Love triangle fails to sizzle in second season of ‘Bridgerton’
“Three’s Company” lost its zing with the departure of Suzanne Somers. “Charlie’s Angels” was never the same after Farrah Fawcett left. “Bridgerton” may be facing the same dilemma.
The period drama, which debuted on Christmas Day in 2020, became one of the most popular series in Netflix history thanks largely to the presence of Rege-Jean Page. He rocked so hard in the role of the Duke of Hastings that the relatively unknown actor ended up hosting “Saturday Night Live” two months later.
But in season two’s eight new episodes, now streaming, the Duke is nowhere to be found. His love interest, Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dynevor), is so inconsequential that she might as well be hanging around just to serve tea.
The main character this time is Daphne’s oldest brother Anthony (Jonathan Bailey), who approaches searching for a wife like it’s his turn to clean the outhouse. Like many suitors in Regencyera London (1811-1820), he’s more concerned about a potential mate’s child-bearing hips than her brains.
He finally narrows his prospects to Edwina (Charithra Chandran), a character so bubbly she’ll remind you of Cameron Diaz in “My Best Friend’s Wedding.” When Anthony fetches her lemonade and asks her for a second dance at the queen’s version of the Met Gala, it’s practically a proposal.
But Anthony can’t stop obsessing over Edwina’s stubborn sister Kate (Simone Ashley). There’s something about the way she whistles at horse races
and sends his ball flying during a heated round of croquet that makes his heart skip a beat.
Watching their bickering transform into heavy breathing can be a jolly good time, especially in the utopia created by executive producer Shonda Rhimes and her lovesick team, which includes lead writer Chris Van Dusen.
This is escapism TV, a world where racial discrimination doesn’t exist and chamber quartets swap Beethoven out for Madonna. Almost every character has at least a teensy fortune; it’s all upstairs, no downstairs.
What’s missing are the sparks.
It’s not the actors’ fault as the entire cast is dropdead gorgeous.
But you can’t help but keep thinking that the two new leads are understudies trying in vain to repeat last season’s magic. You can practically taste the writers’ desperation in wanting to repackage an old gift. One side plot involving a sibling’s quest to become an erotic painter seems like an excuse to justify a flash of nudity.
Some of the old “Bridgerton” tricks still work. Julie Andrews remains a hoot as the show’s narrator, delivering her saucy lines with the zest of a phone-sex operator working on commission. You’ll continue to root for Penelope (Nicola Coughlan), the underappreciated socialite who is secretly driving the queen up the castle walls with her 19th-century version of TMZ.
But the second season’s greatest draw is fairly new. Eloise Bridgerton (Claudia Jessie) was around last year, but we now get to learn more about her rebellious character, who always looks like she’s dying to get out of her corset and change into jeans and a T-shirt.
In the series most hilarious scene, she stiffens when a potential suitor asks her for a dance.
“May I have the honor?” he asks.
“Of what,” she responds with the perfect blend of bewilderment and bravado.
Now, that’s hot.
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