It is a universally recognized truth that, wherever Shonda Rhimes hangs her screen, television follows it. Even when the process becomes foolish enough to interrupt our suspension of disbelief, the fact is that we are having a lot of fun to care. Bridgerton, the first series launched in the Rhimes blockbuster production deal with Netflix (valued at $ 150 million, but possibly north of $ 300 million in reality), carries that DNA in its heart. A sparkling prank by England’s high society of the Regency era (which is from the early 1800s for those suffering from monarchical challenges), offers sex, intrigue, romance, scandal, sex, gossip, and did we mention sex?
Although Rhimes is just an executive producer here, showrunner Chris Van Dusen, a protégé who worked closely with Rhimes for 15 years on Grey’s Anatomy for Scandal, applies everything he has learned and a little more in adapting a series of popular novels by Julia Quinn. Rhimes may not have abandoned ABC just to show off toned male butt and virgin orgasms from young women, but the creative team is certainly leaning towards the streamer’s more laissez-faire management style. Dear spectator, some corsets may have been torn during this series.
But it is not just for all carnal pursuits that Bridgerton it seems totally devoid of the weight that makes so many period pieces a bore. Its eight episodes – each with an hour that seems less – are mixed with feminist tones and light, but surprisingly high-pitched humor. The soundtrack features orchestral versions of current pop hits by Ariana Grande and Billie Eilish. Not only that, the series is based on a diversified casting that treats the idea of blacks and browns among the gentry of England (and indeed their royalty, since the Queen Charlotte series, played by Golda Rosheuvel, is black) as not only plausible, but also a matter of historical fact. Like your compatriot Apple TV +, Dickinson, this is a show where the historical sense meets modern sensibility.
The main plot follows London’s most coveted bachelor, the raunchy and jovial Simon Basset, also known as the Duke of Hastings (Regé-Jean Page, who can raise an eyebrow like no one), and the most desirable debutante, Miss. Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dyvenor), from the noble family that owns the series. The duke has the appearance and generosity to guarantee any wealthy woman he meets, but he does not want any of them – at least not for the rest of his life. Daphne, for her part, has lost its luster after the arrival of a beautiful new girl on the scene and must do what she can to stop the right kind of suitor, so that the reputation of her entire family does not suffer permanent and devastating damage.
A series of machinations follows, in which the two are used as a means to achieve each of their ends, while placing the wig on the witter. Their fake dating, on display during the “ball season” and chaste walks through the city parks, is closely followed by the gossiping tsk-ing of the time, Lady Whistledown, a mysterious figure whose weekly newsletters are eagerly awaited and studied by the wealthy ensemble. . (With the help of the great Julie Andrews, these missives also provide narrative narration that features each episode.)
Along the way, we encounter a variety of characters fighting within the limits of time for the right to seek their own version of happiness. Daphne’s older brother Anthony (Jonathan Bailey) is hopelessly in love with a disreputable woman – an opera singer (Sabrina Bartlett) whose only way to financial security is to welcome male benefactors to us. backstage and touch your wishes. Her musical talent places her far above any of the girls who play pianoforte, whose zealous zeal is pursued only in the name of getting a husband. But their skills are not financeable, economically or romantically.
Another Bridgerton brother, Benedict (Luke Thompson), has an artistic streak that takes him to underground sex and drawing parties, where lustful nude models and swing couples abound. Her sister Eloise (Claudia Jessie), always doodling in a diary, is also a creative type – she would happily dismiss all romantic perspectives if she could pursue a writing career. Meanwhile, her friend Penelope Featherington (Derry girls‘Nicola Coughlan, taking advantage of her loving nervous energy) wishes you both love and the license to have a brain. And then there’s Penelope’s cousin, Marina (Ruby Barker), who has taken her passion to a logical, but compelling conclusion: a single pregnancy that she must make every effort to hide.
In the last third of the series, a character’s sex education takes control of the story, immersing it in a kind of Jane Austen-meets-Skinemax vibe and leaving it a little out of balance. And the duke’s aversion to commitment is explained by a cliché of pop psychology. But Van Dusen does BridgertonThe many satisfying twists and turns until the end, even when they are predictable, and the young cast of almost all strangers brings energy and depth of feeling to the material that otherwise might seem light. There’s a charming wink for everything – this is a show that knows exactly what it is, and wears (or removes) her corset with pride. In less safe hands, Bridgerton it could be filed as a trifle. Instead, it is a joyful waltz through a world of balls and duels, courtiers and petty people, true love and ladies who may not be so interested in waiting.