Bridgerton — The High Value of ‘Low Drama’
As have been the Christmases of so many this year, mine was a quiet one. Separated from friends and family, I whiled away the festive days with a plentiful supply of mince pies, a trusty tub of Quality Street, and some festive G&Ts — hey, mulled wine isn’t compulsory you know! After the intensity of a video-call-packed Christmas Day, and with my sustenance by my side, I settled in for a leisurely few days of reading and viewing. On the morning of Boxing Day I opened up my laptop and headed on over to Netflix. The site immediately presented me with the new release, Bridgerton, and after watching the trailer, I dove straight in.
They had me at “scandal”, “love and war”, and just for good measure, another mention of “scandal”! I’m not usually one to make such snap decisions on what to watch, but the lure of ‘knowing what I was getting’ was mighty strong.
For better or worse, any notable period drama seems to be subject to a comparison to the notorious Downton Abbey. But pleasingly, I fail to see the comparisons beyond the foundational characteristics of the genre — I enjoyed Downton , but I confess, I have moved on. What Bridgerton uses as both its influences and its USPs are unabashedly displayed for all to see — the shameless Gossip Girl-esque mystery figure of Lady Whistledown, and the flamboyant costume and production design. While I found the former of these to have been used rather half-heartedly — increasingly as a side note to the main plot , swooping back in to solve any problem — it did provide the vehicle to a rather tongue-and-cheek tone. As the narrator of the series, Julie Andrews prompts amusement by imparting such unparalleled wisdom as “It has been said that of all bitches dead or alive a scribbling woman is the most canine!”, the blending of the contemporary in this costume drama making for a more unpredictable show than might be expected. This is where Bridgerton excels.
Bridgerton gives its audience security in the conventions of the period drama that they have come to expect: lavish balls and frocks-a-plenty, matchmaking, match-breaking, airs and graces, and falls from graces. But as much as the show is familiar, it surprises and innovates just as much. At first glance, plotlines such as a pregnancy out of wedlock might seem rather humdrum to a seasoned costume drama viewer, but I would argue that Bridgerton masterfully takes its affairs further than we’ve seen before. When the with-child Marina is encouraged to find a husband sharpish to avoid ruin, the show concerns itself more with the morality of concealing the truth from her potential unsuspecting husbands, such as Colin Bridgerton, than treating it as merely a titillating scandal. Bridgerton gives itself the space to elaborate — it doesn’t mess about. Halfway through the season our love-match couple, Daphne and Simon, are engaged to be married, and in that time have been introduced to each other, loathed each other, fallen in love with each other and fallen out of love with each other — I can recall many a similar show taking multiple seasons to cover the same ground.
Bridgeton’s accomplishments may be concealed in part by the odd clichéd character trope and cringe-worthy dialogue, but don’t let this trick you into thinking it doesn’t have much to say. While the show has made headlines for its racy content, our hero the Duke of Hastings suggesting the delicate Daphne “touch herself”, is it not refreshing to see a woman of this era go on to take control of her own sexual awakening, and be so bold as to confront the norm, and her mother, of sending women off into their marriages “blind”? I was notified of a review of Bridgerton via my phone’s Google Feed that labelled it “vulgar” for this very reason. I question why a show with a female focus on the topic of sex and pleasure is labelled so when the same from a male perspective is commonplace on our screens. Let’s cast our minds and tellys back to The Inbetweeners.
The show was critically and commercially successful, and one could argue, pretty easily I’d say, incredibly vulgar. Maybe it escaped this level of objection by being a comedy. Maybe it is simply a ‘better’ show than Bridgerton. But what can be said with a lot less uncertainty is that Bridgerton’s ‘vulgarity’ of the female gaze is rather scarce on our screens. And why should the costume drama not be an arena for change, progression and experimentation? Whilst our heroine aspires to a traditional life of marriage and children, in stark contrast to her sister Eloise who wants nothing of the sort for herself, Daphne is without a doubt a Feminist of her time. Much in the same way as the Meg of Greta Gerwig’s Little Women expressed “just because my dreams are different than yours, doesn’t mean they are unimportant”, Daphne gives us a Feminist icon who is defined as such because of her character, not because she is breaking certain conventions of society, a healthy presentation for audiences.
Seeing as Bridgerton is already rumoured to be imminently renewed for a second season, I am sure Eloise’s time to carve a path outside the demands of society will come, but for now it is touching that she acknowledges Daphne for “being so perfect, so I do not have to be”.
“Shallow”, “watchable fluff” and “a guilty pleasure” are just a handful of ways that Bridgerton has been described. But so too are “moreish”, “escapism” and “a shiny little stocking filler”. 2020 has been an incredibly tough year, and from National Theatre At Home, to innovative programming like Staged, to countless online gigs, the entertainment industry has done its very best to do just that, entertain us. Other popular offerings seen in a similar light have been Emily In Paris and The Prom, both of which I enjoyed, and frankly, have been a godsend by putting a smile on my face in these difficult times. Why then are we still throwing around phrases such as “guilty pleasure” to describe the hard work and creativity of others that we are clearly so desperately in need of? Seek comfort that your guilty pleasure connects you with the countless others that have helped to get these releases to the top of the trending charts. So as we usher in a new year, and a visit to Instagram sees many a celeb encouraging you not to feel guilty about all that Christmas indulgence with the hashtag #newyearsameyou, I ask you not to feel guilty about watching Bridgerton either, or anything else which you find value in.
