Bridgerton - Season 1
“Adding a gay character to Bridgerton is better than no representation at all, but the queerbaiting that comes with him is less welcome.”
Title: Bridgerton
Episodes Reviewed: Season 1
Creators: Chris Van Dusen 👨🏼🇺🇸 based on the books by Julia Quinn 👩🏼🇺🇸
Writers: Chris Van Dusen (12 episodes) 👨🏼🇺🇸, Julia Quinn (11 episodes) 👩🏼🇺🇸, Jess Brownell (8 episodes) 👩🏼🇺🇸, Abby Mcdonald (8 episodes) 👩🏼🇺🇸, Joy C. Mitchell (8 episodes) 👩🏾🇺🇸🇩🇪, and various (4 ♀)
Reviewed by Madelyn 👩🏾🇺🇸
Technical: 5/5
Set in 1813 during London’s busy courting season, Bridgerton is chock-full of beautiful scenery and characters to love. Based on The Bridgerton Series by Julia Quinn from 2000, the books were picked up by Netflix under executive producer Shonda Rhimes. Since its release, the teen drama—reminiscent of standard-bearers like Gossip Girl but with a more mature edge—has become one of the biggest shows ever on the streaming platform, second only to Korean phenomenon Squid Game.
More than just a soap dressed up in pretty costumes and set design, there’s a lot to love in Chris Van Dusen’s adaptation of Bridgerton. The sharp voice of Julie Andrews as Lady Whistledown serves as the perfect narrator, taking viewers on a journey to get to know and care for characters like the leading couple, the Duke of Hastings (Regé-Jean Page) and Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dynevor).
This isn’t to say pretty visuals aren’t important. Heavenly slow-motion shots and scenic wide angles, interspersed with intimate character close-ups, provide a gorgeous world that makes for perfect escapism. Not to mention the intense sex scenes, where beautiful cinematography—with warm lighting and frisky editing—makes one feel as if they’re in the room. Once again, as with past Shondaland works like Scandal or Still Star-Crossed, Bridgerton delivers passionate love stories in an engaging way.
Gender: 3/5
Does it pass the Bechdel Test? YES
With the original novels penned by a woman, Rhimes as executive producer, and a majority-female writers room working on Bridgerton, it’s wonderful to know the show has a female perspective behind the scenes. On screen, however, this empowerment feels spottier.
While the season doesn’t shy away from displaying the misogyny and sexism that ran rampant during this time, and women are given the opportunity to state why such acts are wrong and show their disapproval, writers struggle with consistent messaging.
On the plus side, characters like Daphne’s younger sister Eloise (Claudia Jessie) break from traditional gender norms by balking at society’s need for her to marry and chasing after an education. Over the course of the season, audiences get to watch Eloise build self-confidence and grow. But then there are the low points that go unchallenged, such as when Daphne says to her older brother Anthony (Jonathan Bailey), “This is what I have been raised for … If I am unable to find a husband then I will be worthless.” While this line is clearly meant to portray an outdated perspective, the story never really shows Daphne’s value as otherwise, which muddles the takeaway.
Above all, showrunner Van Dusen fails to critique one of the novel’s most glaring plot points: when Daphne rapes the Duke of Hastings. This brief yet troubling scene passes by sans any type of critique, choosing instead to glibly continue on to the next issue of the town. In a show that so heavily emphasizes a woman’s purity and the process of consent, it’s disappointing that the same care is not extended to the Duke.
Race: 4/5
Rhimes has been leading the charge for Black representation for years now. Her pop culture hits such as Grey’s Anatomy to How to Get Away with Murder blend drama and spectacle with diverse casting, and in many ways, she delivers the same for Bridgerton.
With the Regency series taking place years before slavery would be abolished throughout the British Empire in 1833, real-world England saw Black people mostly working and living in dehumanizing conditions. Rhimes and Van Dusen had the opportunity to interpret this dismal reality a number of ways—and ultimately decided to serve Netflix’s diverse viewership through positive and inclusive casting. African-British actors like Page, Adjoa Andoh (who plays his adoptive mother Lady Danbury), or Ruby Barker as society newcomer Marina Thompson arrive as nobles of equal, if not superior, standing to the show’s white characters.
At the same time, the universe makes stray references to racism and slavery, which breaks the spell and introduces an elephant to the room: If slavery exists in this universe, how do Black and white nobles coexist so peacefully? How did the show’s Black characters come to achieve such high social status? And if Bridgerton has already decided to cast inclusively, why leave out other communities of color?
At most we see glimpses of East Asian women who appear in crowd scenes, and only in the season’s final two episodes. Other Asian, Latinx, or Middle Eastern characters seem entirely absent. Writers never bother to explain these incongruities, with the resulting approach to race feeling well-intentioned but ultimately shallow and confused.
LGBTQ: 3/5
We meet Sir Henry Granville (Julian Ovenden) as he bonds with one of the more liberal Bridgerton siblings, Benedict (Luke Thompson), over their mutual love of art. In some ways, Henry’s character is positive: He presents as someone who knows who he is and what he wants. He does not apologize for being gay and loving Lord Wetherby (Ned Porteous), even if he must hide it for the sake of safety and survival.
But no growth takes place in his character arc. He exists solely to help Benedict realize his own emotional journey, through stereotypical plot points such as a rote speech about having to live outside societal expectations and risking it all for love. Having a minor character like Henry on the show is better than no representation at all, but the queerbaiting that comes with him is less welcome.
Mediaversity Grade: B- 3.75/5
Bridgerton has a healthy mix of positives and negatives. When it comes to its technical approach, escapist scenery and high emotions make it a blatant hit. Better yet, Bridgerton includes the Black community in its bright interpretation of the 1800s. Yet the show excludes other communities of color from its casting while gay tropes make its way to the screen.
More work is needed for true inclusivity—work that I hope will happen in the show’s upcoming second season. In the meantime, the love story between Daphne and the Duke in picturesque England still provides a pleasant trip from reality.
Like Bridgerton? Try these other period dramas with inclusive casting.
Still Star-Crossed
The Great - Season 1
Harlots - Season 2