Where season one broke boundaries, season two of the Netflix series is more comfortable in its genre, but no less entertaining
Note: Review contains spoilers
Season two of ‘Bridgerton’ premiered on Netflix on March 25. Although the first season was immediately heralded for its color-conscious casting, graphic sex scenes which focus on female pleasure, use of modern pop music in classical form and the undeniable chemistry of its two leads; season two has been greeted with a somewhat less enthusiastic response.
However, the essence of ‘Bridgerton’ is very much present in season two – creator Shonda Rhimes continues to bring drama and art to a somewhat overdone genre: the modern bodice ripper.
As an obsessive consumer of period literature and slightly soapy period dramas, ‘Bridgerton’ is a must watch for me. Season two of ‘Bridgerton’ offers fans of the enemies-to-lovers trope a romance aggravated by the two leads’ somewhat trite, but nevertheless enjoyable, competitive natures.
Anthony Bridgerton, the season’s protagonist, portrayed by Jonathan Bailey, is domineering and haunted by the – somewhat controversial – death of his father. He is immediately infuriated by the defiant nature of Kate Sharma, his love interest played by Simone Ashley.
Anthony’s intention for the season is to marry a woman to best fill his requirements and protect his family’s reputation. Kate is determined to get her sister Edwina paired with a love match and to keep her mother and sister protected. Despite their common interests, Anthony and Kate grate on eachothers nerves as he pursues Edwina against her will.
Enemies-to-lovers, while a popular trope amongst fiction lovers, is often difficult to portray on screen. ‘Bridgerton’ certainly stumbles in this regard at first, with many of Anthony and Kate’s early interactions feeling forced in the characters’ supposed rage toward one another, something intended to read as passionate, that translates as slightly petulant.
However, both Bailey and Ashey act every scene with a compelling sincerity, making their characters’ tendencies towards self sacrifice all the more heartbreaking and infuriating, and ultimately bringing more heat to the later episodes.
One of the most discussed scenes from season two is Anthony’s near-panic attack when Kate is stung by a bee in episode three.
Edmund Bridgerton’s death was a mystery to viewers in season one, but season two reveals that the father of the clan died in Anthony’s arms after being stung by a bee.
Given the ever-present bee motif in season one, this revelation is both amusing and tragic. The bee motif reappears when Kate is stung and Anthony’s concern for her escalates the situation to a moment of supposed passion, which admittedly comes off awkwardly, evoking mixed reviews.
However, this brand of melodramatic device, designed to steer characters toward a moment of vulnerability is common to the period literature ‘Bridgerton’ is both a dramatization of and a satire on.
In a Jane Austen novel, a common cold is cause for a week of distress. A simple misunderstanding can ruin a life. And let us not forget – a man and a woman caught holding hands, alone, is cause for marriage or exile. The dramatics in ‘Bridgerton’ aren’t exactly surprising when one considers these precedenst.
When I watched Anthony and Kate turn the bee sting anxiety into a moment of scandal I laughed as one might what we in the 21st century see as the general absurdity of 19th century sensibilities. Nonetheless, I was also moved by the rare and earnest show of emotion by two standoffish characters.
Anthony and Kate’s self-sacrifice and blunders in the name of protecting their families is both what binds them and keeps them apart. Anthony and Kate’s respective journeys bring them to learn to accept love for themselves. This storyline felt relatable and compelling despite any silliness and drama the show added to it.
In comparison to season one, Anthony and Kate are given far less screen time and far fewer sex scenes than Simon and Daphne were, but this leaves room for development of other characters.
Lady Whistledown, the anonymous gossip columnist – and perhaps the Carrie Bradshaw of the 19th century – becomes more morally dubious and less sympathetic throughout the season. We see Lady Whistledown make her gossip column more personal this season, as she is more easily influenced.
Knowing Whistledown’s identity makes her far less likable and a lot more vengeful as she frequently missteps, hurting the people around her.
Whereas Elouise’s feminism last season felt somewhat lazy, motivated solely by her disdain for her own role she becomes both more adventurous and radical in season two. She even forms a friendship with a young printer’s apprentice.
As Colin continues to find himself after his ill-fated romance with Marina Thompson, and Benedict throws himself into his art and faces imposter syndrome, each of the Bridgertons become more developed, setting the series up for more seasons.
While the series is likely one of the most diverse in its genre, thanks to its color-conscious casting, there remains a notable lack of LGBTQ characters. Perhaps the fault of the Julia Quinn books the series is based on, this nevertheless feels like an oversight in a series heralded for its diversity.
Ashely, born to Indian Tamil parents, said that she had never watched period dramas because she never felt represented in them – ‘Bridgerton’ changed this. Ashley noted that the color-conscious casting module freed her from typecasting.
However, the color-conscious casting model is often criticized, mainly because it does not go far enough to prioritize discussions about race. Instead of consciously including diverse storylines, ‘Bridgerton’ falls just shy of color-blind casting, where race is simply ignored. In the first season, characters mentioned that it was the queen who created a more diverse and loving world, but aside from this there are precious few mentions of race.
Compared to season one, the new season does a better job with color-consciousness. The show addresses the fact that the Sharma family is Indian, Kate and Edwina are seen as desirable and strong neither in spite of, nor because of their ethnicities. The show remains color-blind in the sense that ethnicity has little bearing on any plot point.
Outside of racial and ethnic diversity, season two continues to tell many stories in what would be a forcefully homogenous society: the Featheringtons: still lying about their wealth, the Sharmas: formerly social outcasts, Benedict: the artist, Elouise: the feminst and Lady Whistledown: the wallflower.
In one of the more powerful portrayals to come out of season two is in the stories of its widowed mothers. Lady Bridgerton, Lady Sharma and Lady Featherington all must guide their children and defend them in a misogynistic society. Their respective shows of strength, love and support are well written and executed.
Overall, season two of ‘Bridgerton’ is less groundbreaking, essentially because it is just that – a second season. Regé-Jean Page, who played the Duke in season one was definitely missed, and the more slow-burn style romance contributed to overall disappointment as it departed so significantly from the first season’s whirlwind romance between Daphne and the Duke.
Bridgerton season two is not perfect. Neither was season one. Nevertheless, I firmly believe there is value and fun to be found in its stories for anyone who likes a bit of drama, romance, history and humor.
For me, ‘Bridgerton’ is a dramatization of period literature meant for easy consumption in the 21st century. It goes further in diversity and discourse than most of its contemporaries, and continues to prioritize female power in a time when women were second class citizens. However, it still has a long way to go and I look forward to seeing it progress.