‘Bridgerton’ amps up ‘Downton’ model
New Netflix series should please fans of PBS favorite
Waifish and wide-eyed debutante Daphne Bridgerton has a devastating right hook. On the marriage market in Regency-era London and unhappy about her prospects, Daphne finds herself alone with the sleazy Lord Berbrooke. As the loathsome Lord tries to shake his will into young Daphne, she socks the cad. Knocks him cold. Lays him out as easily as a good butler lays out tea and crumpets.
By the time the scene transpires in the first episode of Netflix “Bridgerton,” it is clear that, while the series might fill the “Downton Abbey” shaped hole in many people’s hearts, it is a far cry from “Downton.” This is both sad and wonderful.
PBS- by- way- of- BritishTV series “Downton Abbey” arrived in 2010. Just a decade in the past, 2010 feels like another era entirely. For so many the series became an escape, what many would call a guilty pleasure where viewers could lust after post-Edwardian clothes, cars and values. It was a deeply conservative and fantastically addictive love letter to the twilight of the British aristocracy.
Riding out the tail-end of a pandemic and the beginning of a massive financial recovery (hopefully), “Downton” fans want another escape.
“Bridgerton” can provide that — it is after all based on Julia Quinn’s best-selling bodice rippers. But, despite sharing so many details and plot points (epic fashion, soapy intrigue, an obsession with duty, privilege and tidy and proper matchmaking), the new Netflix show has today’s fingerprints all over it.
The differences between the two can be traced to their masterminds: “Downton” creator Julian Fellowes and “Bridgerton” producer Shonda Rhimes (the series is Rhimes’ first through her exclusive multiyear development deal with the streaming giant). Fellowes writes with real wit and occasional wisdom, but everything comes with a dash of stuffy, dusty politics — occasional bits of social progress come in the series, but much of it is a celebration of entitled elites and servants who know their place. The sets and costumes put “Bridgerton” in the early 1800s, but Rhimes and showrunner/creator Chris Van Dusen embed the modern world into the show between balls and corset cinching.
Dame Julie Andrews’ noble narration plays against a string quartet who cover Ariana Grande’s “Thank U, Next” at a ball. A bright carnal charge pulses through the first episode in defiance of the staid Grantham household of “Downton.” Some might refer to the casting as colorblind, meaning actors of color play characters who would almost certainly be white in 2021, but showrunner Chris Van Dusen pointed out in the New York Times “that would imply that color and race were never considered … when color and race are part of the show.” (It should be noted, the vast majority of characters are white.)
To borrow and maybe bastardize English writer Graham Greene’s classification system, “Downton Abbey” feels like entertainment and “Bridgerton” feels like art. But take note, that doesn’t mean one is better than the other. Despite “Downton” giving its characters regressive beliefs and absurd plotlines, the show made us care so deeply for their well being. Simply, it was an absolute joy to watch.
Early on, “Bridgerton” has a dazzle and newness that’s welcome (and enough to pull you through to further episodes). But it has no Lady Granthum, played by Dame Maggie Smith, reminding the world, “Vulgarity is no substitute for wit.”