The first season of Bridgerton required all of three minutes to depict a couple amid frenzied sex. Bridgerton season 2 takes several episodes to offer us the same lustful civility.
That isn’t necessarily a terrible thing, but it does reflect a more demure, conventionally romantic sensibility for this new stretch of the series, which premieres on Netflix on Friday. The first season of this Shondaland production, based on Julia Quinn’s books and written by Chris Van Dusen, became a sensation for the ways it combined a classic costume drama with contemporary twists and a fair bit of semi-explicit sex. This was Downton Abbey but with bare breasts, or Pride & Prejudice & Horniness but with bare breasts.
The second collection of eight episodes is, ostensibly, more of the same but with less explicit material and a much slower burn. While the first season of Bridgerton could only be found on a streaming service or premium cable, the Bridgerton season 2, with a few small changes, could easily air on PBS. As a result, this rendition is less of a spicy take on a familiar genre and more simply familiar.
After focusing on the steamy courtship between Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dynevor) and Simon Basset (Regé-Jean Page, who chose not to return this season), the focus shifts this season to Anthony Bridgerton, viscount and the eldest son in the Bridgerton family, and Kate Sharma, who has arrives to London to help her sister, Edwina (Charithra Chandran), navigate Kate, like Simon before her, has no desire to get married. She intends to marry Edwina and then return to India to spend the rest of her life alone and happy.
When Kate meets Anthony, though, sparks flare. They argue about everything, from what defines decent behaviour to intense games of pall-mall. They despise each other, which is how you know they’re not-so-secretly in love. In keeping with the genre, they repress those emotions at the countless activities everyone has continuously invited: horse races, weekend getaways in the country, a ball, then another ball, then another ball. Ashley and Bailey are excellent at casting voracious gazes that indicate they would happily devour each other if only spoons were handed to them, but watching Anthony and Kate fight the magnetic pull between them becomes tedious.
Edwina is inexorably drawn into the conflict between her sister and the viscount without ruining the numerous things Netflix has asked critics not to disclose. Her obliviousness to the electricity between them is so severe and hilarious that Bridgerton eventually makes a joke about it. Daphne also periodically pokes her nose to assist her brother on his wooing voyage. Still, every time she returns home, the primary thing that everyone observes is how strange it is that her spouse is never with her and that none of her nosy family ever make a fuss over his absence.
Plenty of romance fiction has purposefully simmered an attraction and waited a while before showing whether or not the relationship progresses. That approach is more aggravating in this context than it could be in others because Bridgerton did not take its time as much in season one. Its principal love affair and other narrative developments had such a forward pace that things often went too swiftly.
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Bridgerton Season 2 goes in the opposite direction, with most ancillary storylines — a foray into art school for middle Bridgerton brother Benedict (Luke Thompson), financial concerns for the Featherington family — not compelling or urgent enough to compensate for the Anthony-and-Kate business’s deliberately slow evolution.
The ongoing mystery surrounding Lady Whistledown’s identity is the exception, which lends some nice regular tension to offset the sexual sort. Whistledown, the anonymous writer of a gossip sheet devoured by everyone in London, was revealed last season to be Penelope Featherington (Nicola Coughlan), Eloise Bridgerton’s (Claudia Jessie) chronically neglected closest friend and carrier of a giant torch for Eloise’s brother Colin (Luke Newton).
But because only the viewer knows her true identity, the characters in Bridgerton season 2 are still curious about who is responsible for Ton’s version of DeuxMoi. Eloise, in particular, is eager to explore, raising the stakes for Penelope, who lives in constant terror of being found out. This is the season’s most well-built segment and an opportunity to spend quality time with two of the show’s most nuanced and empathic characters.
Other components, such as Julie Andrews narrating as Lady Whistledown and making some purple prose sing, continue to make Bridgerton a more than watchable series. (“Country air does certainly clear the mind and energize the body. Could this be the last gust of wind that sends [redacted] over the edge of a proposal?”) The clothes, hair, and makeup are as eye-catching as ever, with Queen Charlotte, played with smiling delight by Golda Rosheuvel once again, donning a couple of wigs this season that could give mobile service if cell phones had existed 200 years ago.
Classical adaptations of modern pop songs continue to make inroads on the soundtrack. A pet corgi makes a few delightfully boopable appearances in what I can only guess is a homage to The Crown.
Despite its advantages, Bridgerton season 2 is not as entirely and successfully transportive this time around. Even though both seasons rely extensively on romantic storytelling cliches, this one makes it easier to recognize those tropes and become distracted by their presence. Yes, there is less sex in Bridgerton season 2, but the main scandal — and Lady Whistledown would probably agree — is that there is less excitement.
