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TV TATTLE

Bridgerton's less-horny Season 2 doesn't deliver the goods: It doesn't have Season 1's delicious, simmering tension

  • The Netflix period drama's transition from Regé-Jean Page to Jonathan Baily as the lead doesn't work, says Laura Bradley. "Swapping romantic leads each season means that Bridgerton must woo its audiences over and over again, and this season’s script does its leads no favors," says Bradley. "Romance lovers know better than anyone that a good enemies-to-lovers arc can redeem any character, and Jonathan Bailey’s controversial Viscount is no exception. But the delicious froth of last season has curdled into something a little murkier here. Sex scenes are few and far between, and even the hot-and-heavy interludes feel somehow… chaste. At the risk of sounding crass, I must ask: Where did all the butt shots go?" Bradley adds: "In the end, however, Bridgerton Season 2 still feels like a tease. Once a euphoric romp, the series now has the energy of someone who couldn’t bring themselves to say 'cocksure' aloud in a writing circle. You hate to see it."

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    • Season 2 isn't the steamy lust fest Bridgerton fans fell in love with in Season 1: "It was an excruciating wait to get to the obvious outcome! I kept wondering: When will we get to the steaminess?!" says Marina Fang of Season 2. "When will we get a messy and imperfect — but swoony — declaration of love, and all the classic Shondaland tropes we love?! We do eventually get to all of those. But it took FOREVER! I kept wanting to pull my hair out every time we’d get close, but not quite there. Despite all of that, and the fact it took me a good two or three episodes to get invested, once I did, I still found myself happy to be plunged back into this world and the goings-on of the ton. Loved the gowns, the parties, the gossip, the intrigue. I gasped at several of the music cues and the scenes they were used in (the string quartet covers are back!). And yes, by far the best part of this new season is Simone Ashley, who is absolutely sensational, and I hope she becomes a huge star. Definitely have some mixed thoughts about some of the specific parts of this season, which we’ll get into. But did I enjoy this. And keep hitting play? Absolutely."
    • Season 1 looked like a Netflix series, Season 2 feels like it's more suited for PBS: "That isn’t a bad thing necessarily, but it does reflect a more demure, traditionally romantic sensibility for this new stretch of the series," says Jen Chaney, adding: "The new set of eight episodes is more of the same, theoretically, but with less explicit material and a much slower burn. While the first season of Bridgerton could have existed only on a streaming service or premium cable, the second, with a few minor edits, could easily air on PBS. That makes this iteration less of a spicy twist on a familiar genre and more just familiar, period ...Plenty of romantic fiction has purposely set an attraction on simmer and waited a while before revealing whether the relationship goes anywhere. That approach proves more frustrating here than it might in other contexts because Bridgerton did not take its time to the same extent in season one. Its central love affair and other plot developments contained so much forward momentum that sometimes things moved almost too quickly. Season two steers in the opposite direction, and most of its ancillary story lines — a foray into art school for middle Bridgerton brother Benedict (Luke Thompson), financial concerns for the Featherington family — are not compelling or urgent enough to compensate for the deliberately slow evolution of the Anthony-and-Kate business."
    • Bridgerton fans were right -- the show doesn't work without Regé-Jean Page: "His absence is sorely felt. Page had the kind of movie star charisma necessary to keep the show’s often ridiculous plot afloat," Eliana Dockterman says of Season 2, adding that Jonathan Bailey "does not have Page’s charm. He never quite pulls off the self-loathing leading man as skillfully as Page. It’s not entirely Bailey’s fault. As a character, Anthony is rather irksome. He worked well in the first season in a secondary role as the rakish, sexist, and overly protective older brother of Daphne. But he carries all that baggage into his new role as romantic lead—and sexism isn’t exactly seductive. The writers give Anthony a traumatic backstory to explain why he is a repressed robot who always yells at his siblings. But understanding why Anthony is so mean doesn’t make him any more pleasant to be around. Where Page smoldered in his misery, Bailey simply snaps."
    • Season 2 proves that Bridgerton didn't need Regé-Jean Page -- in fact, it’s better without him: "Without the Duke and Daphne’s relationship as a focus, Bridgerton is not the same. In fact, it’s better," says Nicole Vassell. "Even before Page’s departure was confirmed, the plan was always for the story to shift focus to the relationship between the Viscount Anthony Bridgerton (Jonathan Bailey) and haughty heiress Kate Sharma (Simone Ashley), in line with the Julia Quinn novels the series is based on. Instantly, season two’s central couple has more going for them: for one, there are higher stakes involved."
    • Season 2 may not be steamy, but it's more relatable: "Despite a slow start, there’s a great deal more narrative polish and visual splendor to this season," says Inkoo Kang. "Most of the ancillary characters have been culled to the most essential 30 or so, and the scheming Mrs. Featherington (an excellent Polly Walker), Penelope’s abruptly impoverished mother, continues to sniff out weakness and opportunity with a lupine relish, this time with the aid of an unexpected ally. And yet all the crowded balls, deer hunts and horse races in the world can’t distract from the second iteration’s greatest disappointment: its utter expectedness."
    • Bridgerton is back with less fun and far less sex: Season 2 is "left short of equivalents to the celebrated season-one sex scenes, which, apart from being unusually explicit for the genre and notably focused on the female experience, felt like an integral part of the plot, not merely glacé figs atop a grand confection," says Jack Seale. "They were a product of the original romance, between Phoebe Dynevor as Daphne and sadly departed breakout star Regé-Jean Page as the intense Duke of Hastings, being a heady, horny, impetuous thing – young love, in other words. But now we’re dealing with a tale of emotions clashing with responsibilities that’s more grown up and simply not as fun. That is not to say that the pleasures of Bridgerton have dissipated. It’s still amusing to notice that the string section in the background is playing cover versions of 'You Oughta Know,' 'Material Girl' or, when the queen is awarding the most covetable debutante the title of 'diamond,' 'Diamonds' by Rihanna. The gardens are lush, the houses are colossal and there’s some terrific horsing through parkland."
    • Bridgerton writers deserve defending, but their approach to Season 2 is undeniably strange: "In fairness, the second season was always going to have a steep hill to climb," says Caroline Framke. "For one, Quinn’s corresponding novel (The Viscount Who Loved Me) is one of her most beloved — and fans of it should be advised that this TV adaptation takes a sharp turn after the notorious bee sting scene (if you know, you know) to become something else entirely. For another, the first season became a Netflix phenomenon thanks to the perfect storm of a perfectly timed premiere (Christmas Day of 2020), providing silly and sexy entertainment after the first terrible year of COVID, and Page’s breakout turn as a duke smoldering with self-loathing and excessive hotness....Following that singular sensation up would be difficult no matter what. That said: It’s undeniably strange to watch this second season and feel like the Bridgerton team might’ve forgotten what made the show such a delightful distraction in the first place."
    • Perhaps the biggest weakness is that, as the central character, Anthony is a bore: "As he steps from supporting to leading man, there are some growing pains for actor and character," says Kelly Lawler of Jonathan Bailey. "By the end of the new season, Anthony is, at last, a romantic hero with some heat behind him and a love worth rooting for, but it takes too long to get there, and Bailey lacks the inherent magnetism of a swoon-worthy hero; he's no Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy."
    • As it turns out, Bridgerton doesn't need the Duke: "With a second season that's more clever, moving, and emotionally complex than the first, this period drama — based on Julia Quinn's novels and created by Shondaland's Chris Van Dusen — proves that it's not just a titillating trifle," says Kristen Baldwin, adding: "What season two lacks in sex montages it makes up for in emotional resonance. Anthony is forced to face how his father's death — and the immediate, crushing responsibility it placed on him as the eldest son — drove him to develop a tyrannical focus on duty, leaving him all but estranged from his own siblings. Bailey easily captures his character's personal growth, as Anthony's deep love for his family begins to break down his icily stern demeanor."
    • Season 2 is a satisfying, smoldering slow burn: "Since you are clearly dying to know, dear reader, here’s the answer: Bridgerton Season 2 has barely any sex, but do not make the mistake of dismissing the joys of this season," says Proma Khosla. "What it has instead is heaping, smoldering helpings of sexual tension, with Ashley and Bailey setting rooms on fire with just a look. Their chemistry is nothing short of explosive, communicated through intense stares, brushing hands, and distressed, heavy breathing. Worry not: It is horny as hell. The only way for these two to not ruin their entire lives is by staying away from each other, which they are completely incapable of doing. They frequently end up alone outside, secluded in rooms, or in one case horizontal in the mud — left at the mercy of their maddening desire and breathing helplessly into each other's mouths. It's their favorite thing to do!"
    • Season 2 is so different, they should have renamed the entire show: "The reset of this new series of Bridgerton is, it must be said, a touch harsh," says Nick Hilton. "The entire central dilemma (and the very attractive couple seeking to resolve it) of the first season has been excised, giving this opening episode – 'Capital-R-Rake' – the feeling of a spin-off. They might as well have renamed the entire show The Other Bridgertons. And on a spectrum running from Frasier to JoeyThe Other Bridgertons would be somewhere in the middle: a more trivial work than its parent, but not without its charms. The reality is that Daphne, for all her doe-eyes and baby hairs, was a less charismatic Bridgerton than either Anthony or Eloise. Indeed, in her proto-feminist, anti-establishment leanings, Eloise always had a stronger sense of Main Character Energy than her elder sister (she has begun reading Mary Wollstonecraft, labelled “rather haughty” by Penelope, in the off-season absence of Lady Whistledown’s gossip rag). All the same, the new season lacks the romantic vigour of Simon’s tortured pursuit of Daphne – the dynamic between Kate and Anthony (all rather transparently Lizzie Bennett and Mr Darcy) feels much more forced. And Jonathan Bailey, even with a razor applied to his period facial hair, felt more convincing and comfortable as the wayward son than the romantic lead."
    • Season 2 has an unsatisfying approach to inclusivity: "Though Season 1 bucked its ultimate responsibility as a period piece by failing to dive deep into the real interworking of all its characters of color, it was more successful when it gave us glimpses of its single female characters’ ability to triumph without male counterparts to lean on," says Khalisa Rae Thompson. "But just glimpses they were. Season 2 of Bridgerton, which lands on Netflix this Friday, could have enticed our palates with more than mere glimpses. And because many of its leading women are characters of color, it could have showered us with flashbacks, memories, and insight into what it feels for them to navigate this kind of society. According to showrunner Chris Van Dusen, casting three South Asian women as lead characters was a way to expand culture within the Bridgerton landscape (perhaps to move past criticisms of tokenism), but Season 2 timidly skimmed the surface of such representation when I needed it to leap into sumptuous storytelling. I couldn’t escape into it while I was also trying to navigate its unsatisfying approach to inclusivity."
    • Season 2 is really enjoyable, yet disappointing: "The first season of the Regency romance was one of the streamer’s biggest hits, exploding into the pop culture zeitgeist like a sexy, candy-colored bomb. Suddenly, period dramas were cool again," says Lacy Baugher Milas. "The series’ success was so great that it helped push the entire genre in a more modern direction in terms of diversity and representation, all while embracing more open attitudes towards sex and female pleasure. So maybe there was never going to be a way that Bridgerton Season 2 could recapture the lightning in a bottle that was the series’ initial outing. But it’s still so darn disappointing that it doesn’t. The thing is: Bridgerton Season 2 is still really enjoyable television and there’s a lot to like here. There are colorful costumes, charming characters, plentiful scandals, and even a super cute corgi named Newton. But book fans likely will resent many of the changes from Julia Quinn’s novel The Viscount Who Loved Me and non-book readers may struggle to believe in the depth of the story’s central relationship. The end result is something that is, on all accounts, honestly mostly fine, but that is ultimately tarnished by the memory of how good what came before it was."
    • Jonathan Bailey makes Season 2 worth watching: "Thanks to Jonathan Bailey’s exquisite lead performance and expert ability to be almost unbearably hot even while clothed—not to mention, you know, things like the show’s writing being as sharp as ever and the grandness of its aesthetic even more wondrous—I quite enjoyed the new season anyway," says Kevin Fallon, adding: "Yes, I, as did the world, loved Page’s breakout performance. But, like the books it is based on, this series couldn’t be better suited to a rotational structure, in which each season centers on a different character, thus minimizing—or, in his case, excising—other ones. Bailey’s Anthony Bridgerton is both a familiar type—the brooding gentleman torn between duty and desire—and one with more depth than you might expect from a character that could easily be written off as Generic Handsome British Man as Romantic Lead in Period Piece. He has an exceptional ability to carry his angst, pain, and guilt with him without bogging down things into a somber drag. There’s a refreshing levity to him, in spite of the over-the-top seriousness that a soap opera like this requires."
    • In defense of Anthony Bridgerton: "Hey, maybe starting from the bottom was Netflix’s goal all along with Anthony. Because now we’re here: the sideburns have been shaved, the hair has been coiffed, and the only time Anthony isn’t wearing a perfectly tailored waistcoat is when he is wearing nothing at all (while brooding in a bathtub)," says Jodi Walker. "While I resented Anthony having so few redeeming qualities in Season 1, it leaves plenty of runway in Season 2 to explore what’s lurking under that cantankerous disposition. After all, if the Season 2 romance should have anything in common with Daphne and the Duke’s, it may just be this: Reformed rakes make the best leading men."
    • Much of the novelty has worn off in Season 2: The second season "acts as both a celebration of what fans want and a disappointingly rote repetition of what’s come before," says Clint Worthington. "So much of the old show is back, with little variation: The endless rounds of repetitive gossip, melodramatic flashbacks to signpost a character’s secret pain, enough classical covers of modern pop songs to keep Vitamin String Quartet in business for years to come ...It’s all very fussily constructed and pretty to look at, but long stretches just feel like a repeat of season one. Strangely enough, what changes there are seem to make the show feel more prudish. Gone are most of the acrobatic, taboo sex scenes of season one, replaced with a constipated sense of duty and flummoxed denial of feelings. Save for a few glances of booty here or there, it basically takes till near the end of the season to send Anthony and Kate into one of the show’s signature toe-curling rendezvouses, which is sure to frustrate viewers looking for something a little racier."
    • Bridgerton had some pretty big breeches to fill this time, and it mostly does: "Bridgerton season 2, which is largely inspired by The Viscount Who Loved Me but diverts in some major yet intriguing ways, is just as addictive and well worth the amount of ink that Lady Whistledown spills in her columns," says Michelle Jaworski. "Everything you loved about season 1—the lavish costumes and pristine production design, the orchestral pop covers, snarky remarks from Queen Charlotte (Golda Rosheuvel) and Lady Danbury (Adjoa Andoh), Lady Whistledown’s observations voiced once again by Dame Julie Andrews—is still there; the season 2 premiere is especially full of winks and nods that Bridgerton is aware of its reception, albeit to a slightly grating effect. It stumbles a bit in some of its expansion of the world beyond its primary purview, but its central romance, an enemies-to-lovers tale filled with lingering glances, hand grazes, and electrifying and palpable chemistry, is more than enough to smooth over the rough edges."
    • Bridgerton keeps perpetuating Hollywood's most stubborn myths about corsets: Simone Ashley recently complained to Glamour how painful and restricting her corsets were. "Media outlets gleefully and naïvely picked up on these quotations without probing further, because they reinforce what those who work with historic dress call the Corset Myth," says Hilary Davidson. "The myth is strong. The myth is pervasive. It’s the idea that all historical corsets were oppressive, painful devices of torture forced upon women for centuries. Like a hydra, for every story or article patiently explaining that just wasn’t the case, hundreds more pop up to say “corsets were BAD!” The myth, perpetuated by Hollywood productions in which corsets are synonymous with female subjugation, forces history into a single, uncomplicated narrative. It overrides the extensive research that proves otherwise. It’s simply not true. Yes, corsets can hurt and damage, when worn incorrectly. But that doesn’t mean that it was the common experience. As a dress historian and curator, I’ve spent decades studying a huge range of sources giving richer, more nuanced pictures of corset-wearing. People often judge corsets by projecting modern standards of embodied comfort onto the past. Today, many of us live almost wholly in stretch clothing, especially since the pandemic began. Tighter, snug, and firm clothing had greater bodily comfort value ages ago, not least for warmth. Just because someone now can’t imagine wearing something stiffened around their torso doesn’t mean it was the same in the past. The myth is often based on unexamined assumptions about bodies."
    • Shonda Rhimes weighs in on who will be the lead of Season 3: "There's eight Bridgerton siblings, so we're planning on following each one of the siblings' romantic stories," says Rhimes, alluding to the possibility that they could be switching up the order. "We're not necessarily going in order but we are going to be seeing each of the siblings and their stories."
    • Chris Van Dusen says Ruby Stokes' exit was "beyond our control" since she was attached to another show
    • Van Dusen's Bridgerton influences include The Age of Innocence, Dangerous Liaisons, The Duchess, Barry Lyndon and Pride & Prejudice
    • Author Julia Quinn on being a "consultant" on Bridgerton: "I joke it's the easiest consulting job ever because they show me the scripts and I look at them," she says. "I'm like, 'These are amazing.' And that's pretty much it. I'm sure if something's going on that I really had an issue with, I'm in a position to raise it, but that just hasn't come up. For the most part, I'm like this fairy godmother off in Seattle while they're all filming in London. To a great deal, I'm watching like a fan who gets to see everything a little early and gets to visit."
    • Simone Ashley and Charithra Chandran on joining Bridgerton for Season 2: “I wasn’t aware of the huge fandom particularly behind Kate and ‘#Kanthony’ in that sense,” says Ashley. “Only until I got the role, and it was kind of announced on the internet, that’s when I understood how many people adore the amazing character that is Kate. I think Julia Quinn created such a fun, powerful, confident female character. I guess only then, the penny dropped and I was like, ‘Wow okay, there’s a lot of people rooting for her.'” Chandran adds that she loves working with Jonathan Bailey. “He’s like the best big brother," she says. "Working with him is always such a pleasure. But what I’d say about Edwina and Anthony is that they see something in each other that only they understand: a title, a duty, an obligation that was imposed by someone else onto them.”
    • Chris Van Dusen is curious how Bridgerton will go following his departure: “I’ve had a really specific creative vision for the series and I don’t think that vision would have been able to be translated if I didn’t put everything I had into this show," says Van Dusen, who will be succeeded by fellow Shondaland vet Jess Brownell for Seasons 3 and 4. "I’m a very involved, in-the-trenches showrunner. I was on set in the U.K. pretty much every day for these first couple seasons, overseeing things down to the smallest details. And there isn’t really a script that hasn’t been rewritten three, four, sometimes five, six times. And I say that because that’s the way it had to be in order to realize that singular, cohesive creative vision.”

    TOPICS: Bridgerton, Netflix, Charithra Chandran, Chris Van Dusen, Julia Quinn, Ruby Stokes, Shonda Rhimes, Simone Ashley