Bridgerton (Netflix)
Sadly, Jane Austen did not live long enough to complete her planned masterpiece, Debs And Debauchery or Balls And Bonking. But if she had done it, she might have looked like the third season of Bridgerton (Netflix).
The rules of romantic fiction haven’t changed much in 200 years. Young girls long to meet a handsome, rich, well-educated man with an indomitable streak of toughness, and to hear his declaration of helpless devotion.
Girls can never announce their feelings first. That would leave them exposed to ridicule. But it is eccentric to the point of insanity for any of them to think about anything other than courtship and marriage.
And once married, their only interest is to see their sons grow up manly and eligible, and their daughters charming and desirable.
Bold as it is, Bridgerton embraces these archaic restrictions with gusto. There is no irony or subversion in this show, which is what has made it so popular.
Christopher Stevens gives the Bridgerton series three five stars as he writes: ‘This is what Bridgerton does best’
Sadly, Jane Austen did not live long enough to complete her planned masterpiece, Debs And Debauchery or Balls And Bonking. But if she had done it, she might have looked like the third season of Bridgerton.
Forget feminism, gay pride or gender fluidity – this Georgian fantasy may be camp, but it’s also straight as a country house gravel drive.
The various earls and dukes who strut their shapely calves on the ballroom floor are adorned with ruffles and bows. But that doesn’t make them effeminate in any way, and they would be horrified if you said so.
The cruel and arrogant Colin Bridgerton (Luke Newton), youngest son of a titled family and therefore entitled to act as a selfish narcissist, was shocked to his core when he encountered a flash of homosexuality on one of his visits. regulars at a brothel.
Her face, when two of her paid companions offered to give her a lesbian exhibition, was one of prudish disbelief. He looked like a vicar who had discovered someone in the congregation with pornography hidden behind his prayer book.
Colin is a different man since we last saw him. He broke the heart of our heroine, Penelope Featherington (Nicola Coughlan), by boasting loudly to her friends that a guy like him would never like a woman like her.
The implication, although never said out loud, is that she is too chubby. Reader, he embarrassed her.
But Colin has been traveling and has acquired charm, finesse and even a touch of good manners. “Mr Bridgerton,” observes the mysterious gossip columnist Lady Whistledown, “seems to have taken on an entirely new personality.
But one has to wonder: is this new character his true self? And does Mr. Bridgerton himself even know this?
But fans hoping to see more of the bare bottoms and raunchy sex scenes that made the first series a hit will be disappointed, TV critics warned in their reviews.
Bulging bodices, opulent ensembles, and a will-they-won’t-they romance can only mean one thing: Bridgerton is back
The eldest Bridgerton, Viscount Anthony (Jonathan Bailey) and his new wife Kate (Simone Ashley) are busy consummating their marriage after last season’s love-hate romance as she screams, “You know what we’re doing isn’t It’s what you do.” Do you have an heir?
What we know, but Colin doesn’t, is that the anonymous Lady W is actually Penelope. Will he fall in love with her despite himself? And what will happen then if her secret is revealed?
Penelope’s double life has already ruined her closest friendship, with Colin’s sarcastic sister Eloise (Claudia Jessie).
Meanwhile, the eldest Bridgerton, Viscount Anthony (Jonathan Bailey) and his new wife Kate (Simone Ashley) are busy consummating their marriage after last season’s love-hate romance.
She is lying on a four-poster bed. She is upside down under the duvet, a bedding item that seems remarkably modern for the 1820s. “Do you know,” she gasps, “that what we’re doing is not the way to create an heir?”
No wonder Miss Coughlan says she won’t be watching this series with her mother.
However, most of the cast keep their clothes on. And what costumes are they. Adjoa Andoh is especially striking as Lady Danbury in a white top hat and tails, like Marlene Dietrich playing Mr. Darcy.
Golda Rosheuvel as Queen Charlotte sports a series of increasingly spectacular wigs, so voluminous and heavy that she requires a neck brace.
The first, worn while wearily inspecting this year’s crop of debutantes, is like a frozen tidal wave, a rising wall of white ice.
Colin is a different man since we last saw him. He has been traveling and has acquired charm, finesse and even a touch of good manners. “Mr Bridgerton,” observes the mysterious gossip columnist Lady Whistledown, “seems to have taken on an entirely new personality.
The third season ends on a gripping cliffhanger, as after being unable to think of anyone else, Colin finally declares his love to Penelope in a carriage and they both give in to their passions.
The series has a soundtrack of current pop hits performed by a chamber orchestra. When Penelope arrives at a royal ball, dressed to rock in sparkling green satin, the string quartet plays 2022’s ABCDE-FU, by one-hit teen wonder Gayle.
But the largest of them is hollowed out to show two glass swans rotating over a glass lake powered by a clockwork mechanism.
This is what Bridgerton does best. The candelabras, the footmen in their best clothes, the chinless drones in silk waistcoats, the flower arrangements like all those at Kew Gardens piled up in a vase, the feathered horses, the diamond-studded pineapples, the rosy-cheeked urchins and the Wide-eyed maids, evil lawyers, hot air balloon flights, the sheer sparkle of ball gowns, all filled with intrigue, jealousy and lust.
Of course, Georgian London was never like that. But who wants to see smallpox, cholera and gallows in a romantic adventure?
Instead, a joyfully multiracial aristocracy performs gavottes and minuets in an England where titles of nobility and estates are not inherited but given on a whim.
A little boy can become a baron because his great-aunt decides to leave him a title, and a scheming mother can forge a document that evokes a fortune for her family, as long as her first grandchild is a boy.
All of this set to a soundtrack of current pop hits performed by a chamber orchestra. When Penelope arrives at a royal ball, dressed to kill in sparkling green satin, the string quartet plays 2022’s ABCDE-FU, by one-hit teen wonder Gayle.
The chorus echoed in my head: ‘Everyone but your dog, everyone can fuck!’ …What would Miss Austen say?
