Arriving in the darkest days of the pandemic, season one of Shonda Rhimes’ Bridgerton was comfort viewing handed down by the TV gods themselves. It had everything: progressive casting, saucy love-scenes and more Regency wigs than you could shake a gentleman’s codpiece at.
And for Irish viewers, there was the bonus of Derry Girls’ Nicola Coughlan playing Penelope Featherington, a courtly dame with a secret or three up her ruffled sleeves.
A year and a bit later the world has changed utterly. Covid has been pushed off the front pages by war in Ukraine. And Bridgerton (Netflix, Friday) has lost its breakout star Regé-Jean Page who has left to pursue other projects (he's talked of as the next James Bond).
But then the appeal of Netflix’s biggest blockbuster this side of Squid Game always went beyond any individual character or story. And so, with Page’s Duke of Hastings out of the picture, his wife Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dynevor) has been relegated to the background and the attention instead turns to her love-hungry older brother Anthony (Jonathan Bailey).
Anthony is a bit of a Discount Mr Darcy, in that he’s keen to meet a significant other during debutante “season” but is also a something of a stuffed shirt. That he is to be the focus this year is confirmed when we are treated to several shots of his bum early in episode one – a bonus for devotees of bodice rippers and an unpleasant surprise to whose of us who like to binge watch over supper.
Despite Regé-Jean Page's departure and the downgrading of Lady Daphne, it's essentially business as usual
He has his eyes on Edwina Sharma (Charithra Chandran), a society heiress newly arrived from India. But though the couple are deemed a perfect match, a love triangle soon manifests as Anthony’s attention is further caught by Kate (Simone Ashley), Edwina’s ancient spinster sister (she is 26).
Coughlan is kept busy, too. She was unmasked to the audience in season one as Lady Whistledown, author of a scandalous gossip sheet (played in voiceover by Julie Andrews and essentially 1800s Britain’s version of an Instagram influencer). Her double life is laid bare once again as we see her sneaking around London speaking in a broad Dublin burr. But then she’s back at court and talking in an accent so cut-glass you fear it might take her eye out if she tripped.
A delight in series one, Coughlan brings a crucial sardonic quality once again: Bridgerton is very slightly a joke and she’s entirely in on the gag. The tone is otherwise a sort of Disneyland Downton Abbey, the pantomime accentuated by a contemporarily soundtrack (a string quartet striking Madonna’s Material Girl etc) and a broad performance by Golda Rosheuvel as Queen Charlotte.
And so, despite Page’s departure and the downgrading of Lady Daphne, it’s essentially business as usual, as Rhimes brings us further anachronisms in the UK. Fans will adore it, from the top of its powered wig to the tip of its chenille dress.
