‘Bridgerton’: A series review from a series reader

Dear gentle reader, 

After years of waiting, re-reading, speculating and re-speculating, Bridgerton has finally arrived on Netflix. And I, as an avid reader of the Julia Quinn penned series, shall be happy to serve as your guide to tell you why, like the rest of the ton, the spectacle is worth a watch. 

Bridgerton, the new historical romance series to make its way to Netflix, produced by Shondaland (Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal) and Chris Van Dusen, is more directly an adaptation of the first book in the series, Duke and I.

The story primarily follows Daphne Bridgerton (whom Phoebe Dynevor plays perfectly), the fourth of eight Bridgerton siblings on her very first London season. Pressure is high, as she was declared by Queen Charlotte as the season's Incomparable, a diamond of the first water. This is when a gossip writer by the name of Lady Whistledown (voiced by Julie Andrews) begins to release a weekly sheet, sparing no names under initials and leaving the ton of London society quite enthralled.

Simon Basset (our new favorite Duke, Regé Jean-Page), the Duke of Hastings, would like nothing more than to have nothing to do with any of society, but he somehow finds himself being hounded after by the ambitious mamas, who would want nothing more than for their young daughters to marry a duke. Daphne and Simon decide that it would be a smart idea to pretend to form an attachment, and both are sure that nothing could possibly go wrong.

But I'm sure you already know what happens there.

Before we continue with the review, some warnings on the series itself; much like the novels, there is sex on screen (in the most delightful way, most of the time), there is a scene with substance abuse, a woman depicted dying of childbirth onscreen in episode two, and a sexual assault scene in episode six, with very dubious consent.

A regency fantasy

From the first scene, of the Bridgertons getting ready in their lovely white and blue front room, and the debutantes lining up in varying heights of feathers, you know straight away that you are watching a less-than-historically accurate show, but a visual feast regardless. Every design and costume detail seemed to be thought out, from the hyacinths growing in front of Bridgerton house, to the completely different themes per ball or gala event that the characters are made to attend.

You are immediately thrust into a fantasy regency world—where grass is greener, the gowns are in every lovely color imaginable, and that all the faces in society come in varying colors and races.

It was refreshing to see a wide variety of people in a world that would have easily excluded them, and we are constantly reminded that this is part of the fantasy thanks to Vitamin String Quartet covers of songs like Ariana Grande's Thank U Next, or Taylor Swift's Wildest Dreams at the most appropriate moment.

The historical romance genre being what it is, with all its problems and gatekeeping for "historical accuracy," I am happy that the show was bold enough to eschew that and do what they wanted, all to give us these visual delights.

An interesting point raised (and would have totally missed, being unaware of English history), is that, Bridgerton is a historical speculative romance as well. By bringing in the character of Queen Charlotte (Golda Rosheuval makes for a fine rival against Lady Whistledown), Bridgerton imagines an alternate history in which the ton would be more inclusive. While the thought is highly appreciated, the addition is mostly on a surface level basis. In the end, the secondary POC characters still get "punished" for their actions, which makes one wonder if it couldn't have benefited from a Hamilton-esque approach.

The old, the new, the borrowed, the blue

As the series is currently an adaptation of The Duke and I, it is important to keep that in mind as you watch the Bridgerton brothers, Anthony, Benedict, and Colin. These men are supposed to be romance heroes, book heroes. But at the moment, they are still in their own stories' prequels, so they are bit hard to recognize.

Anthony especially, is a lot more resentful, hateful, immature, and basically a huge jerk in the first half of the series. But once you get past that, and reach the end of the first episode, it becomes a lot more entertaining to watch. Benedict gets a big glow up on the show, with tender moments with Eloise while he starts to explore his sexuality outside the watchful eyes of the ton.

When it comes to Daphne and Simon's story, the adaptation is quite faithful, giving us many, many delicious moments between our two main characters on screen. Both Daphne and Simon have very obvious on screen chemistry (please direct your attention to Simon licking a spoon in episode four), and every scene with them together makes ones cheeks hurt from the kilig and the smiling.