Two years after making a splash as one of the biggest Netflix hits of all time, regency romance “Bridgerton” is back. Much like in the novels by Julia Quinn, from which the series is adapted, the sophomore installment focuses on Anthony (Jonathan Bailey), the eldest Bridgerton son, in his quest for a bride. With his hopeless affair with the opera singer Siena Rosso (Sabrina Bartlett) finally laid to rest, Anthony enters the season determined to do his duty to his family and find the perfect future Viscountess Bridgerton. Love is not part of the equation—in fact, for reasons this season goes on to explore at length, Anthony is particularly set on not finding anyone with whom he shares any particularly deep connection. He approaches the situation the way one might finding a new employee, through a rigorous interview process.
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Unfortunately, none of the available candidates are meeting his sky-high standards. That is, until the Sharmas—lady Mary (Shelley Conn) and her daughters Kate (Simone Ashley) and Edwina (Charithra Chandran)—show up on the scene, newly arrived from India and being hosted by Lady Danbury (Adjoa Andoh) for the season. The whip-smart, sharp-tongued Kate, deeming herself too old for the marriage market at 26, has put her all into training Edwina to be the picture of genteel perfection, with stellar results. Edwina is sharp-witted yet demure, impeccably educated, perfectly graceful, endlessly sweet. She passes Anthony’s rigorous vetting process with flying colors. The only issue is that Kate, who is decidedly unimpressed by Anthony, having heard of his rakish past and been left by a rather unfavorable first impression, actively pushes against the match—which, of course, only further piques Anthony’s interest. However, the more time he spends with the Sharma sisters, the more he realizes that it is Kate’s razor-edged banter and stubborn spirit that keeps him wanting more.
Season one of “Bridgerton” felt like a period piece specially designed for those who do not traditionally like period pieces and think them stuffy. Season two, for better or for worse, depending on your particular affinities, takes a rather large step towards tradition in comparison. Those who primarily enjoyed the tale of Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dynevor) and Simon Basset (Regé-Jean Page) for its fast burn and impressive array of raunchy, increasingly creative sex scenes will likely find themselves disappointed. However, for those willing to take a chance on a change of pace, the shift also brings with it a bevy of advantages.
While the raunchiness that was the buzziest component of season one may be significantly dialed back, the heart of the series remains intact under the leadership of showrunner and creator Chris Van Dusen. The same addictive air of melodramatic indulgence and soapy fun reigns supreme; the same playful love of anachronisms interspersed throughout, with the most pivotal ballroom scenes marked with string quartet covers of pop songs (this time around “Material Girl” and “Wrecking Ball,” amongst others). Although there are far fewer sex scenes, it is, importantly, beneath it all still as horny a show as it ever was—arguably more so because the sexual tension is left to build for so long, with all the teasing and tantalizing “almosts” that make for an effective slow burn.
The plotting of season two also feels significantly more even. While first season echoed the experience of reading a bodice-ripper to an arguable fault—namely, the shift that tends to happen around the midpoint where the plot gets watered down into a thin glue that holds an impressive array of sex scenes together, only to briefly return at the very end for a tacked-on dramatic resolution—the second season uses its slower burn to keep the tension building throughout. The central pairing of Anthony and Kate feels far more evenly matched in many regards, and the show overall takes on a more compelling ensemble feel. The extent to which Regé-Jean Page’s smoldering Duke Simon dominated the first season ultimately left the show in a smidge of a bind as his largely unacknowledged absence from the second season feels a bit like the elephant in the room at times; a growing pain “Bridgerton” seems clearly determined not to repeat in the decidedly more even distribution of its attentions this time around.
That is not to say that there are not still sticking points. The show’s attempts to feature some sprinkles of commentary regarding the subject of race in its diversely revisionist history still feel awkward and lacking in any real depth. The intentions are good, but every instance leaves the impression that “Bridgerton” would be much better served by just going the standard colorblind casting route, considering the show feels so uninterested in making much commentary on the matter anyway.
While various the various subplots feel far more effectively balanced on the whole, there are still a few that fail to fully land. Eloise Bridgerton’s (Claudia Jessie) continued quest to identify the gossip monger known as Lady Whistledown—none other than Eloise’s closest friend, Penelope Featherington (Nicola Coughlan)—has her cross paths with a printer’s assistant named Theo Sharpe (Calam Lynch), who introduces her to radical politics and makes her character feel more like an under-developed version of Sybil Crawley from “Downton Abbey” than ever. The extent to which the other Bridgertons are fully tolerant and accepting of her disregard for propriety, even when it comes at significant personal cost to them and their reputation, makes Eloise come across as far more annoying and selfish than fully seems the show’s intent. A subplot involving middle Bridgerton son Benedict (Luke Thompson) deciding to pursue art school is so peripheral I regularly forgot about its existence entirely while watching, and ultimately feels like a flimsy excuse to add a little more nudity to the more buttoned-up sophomore entry.
Although the battle of wits that is Anthony and Kate is plucked from Quinn’s novels, the significant changes made from the source material consistently push the central romance closer and closer to sharing more than a few resemblances to “Pride and Prejudice.” (For those of you who might be wondering, yes, this does mean there are wet shirt scenes that do the legacy of the 1995 miniseries proud and a hand flex moment that feels decidedly like a callback to the 2005 film version).
While Simon and Daphne were a study in instant chemistry and carnal lust, Anthony and Kate traverse a very different road. Their initial surface differences spark a hostility that slowly transforms into something else entirely as they begin to realize their initial conflict was actually the result of being incredibly similar.
“Bridgerton” does a truly impressive job here of overhauling Anthony. Hardly the most likeable character of the first season, overly cool and downright sexist in his consistent dismissal of Daphne’s wishes, the new installment effectively reframes many of his past decisions in a far more endearing light; well-intentioned if flawed efforts borne from a crushing sense of duty and desire to do right by his family. He feels unforgivably inferior to his adored father Edmund (Rupert Evans), whose sudden death thrust the unprepared Anthony into the role of Viscount, and terrified of following in the footsteps of his father’s early demise and leaving comparable devastation in his wake. (The glow-up courtesy of shaving off the aggressive sideburns he sported in season one does not hurt, either.) The quick-witted Kate, meanwhile, makes for a compelling match, an amalgamation of Austen protagonists who feels comfortably familiar but not overly so, and such a significant change from Daphne that she feels downright refreshing in context. While the series somewhat frustratingly shortchanges the exploration of her internal conflicts in comparison to Anthony, Simone Ashley’s compelling performance manages to do a lot with relatively little.
The second season of “Bridgerton” features obvious surface differences from the first installment, but the core of what makes the show so fun and addictive to watch remains delightfully intact while also showing promising signs of growth. Kate and Anthony banter like Elizabeth Bennett and Fitzwilliam Darcy and bond over parallel traumas like contestants on “The Bachelor”; the eventual grand declarations of love are ultimately all the more swoon-worthy for the long wait. It’s still as escapist as escapism gets, just with an added degree of emotional resonance in the connection between the central pair that strikes a more compellingly sweet cord. [B+]
Season two of “Bridgerton” premieres Friday, March 25 on Netflix.