Bridgerton (S1-S2)
Mar. 4th, 2024 09:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blimixOkay, I finished Bridgerton, at least until season 3 drops next month. I have thoughts. This is going to be majorly spoilery. Proceed at your own risk.
The season 2 couple is Anthony Bridgerton and Kate Sharma. Of course, from the beginning of season 1, I have rather despised Anthony, as the writers intended. He is easily pressured by others regarding his duty, and then takes hasty, ill considered, and drastic actions to fulfill that perceived duty. This sounds like anyone with anxiety and childhood trauma, but unlike most such people of my acquaintance, he has no care for the harm he is likely to cause, until it is already in effect. His utter disregard for his sister Daphne's wishes (particularly her abhorrence for Lord Berbrooke) and his later duel with Simon establish him as a sort of villain: Not by malice, but by jackassery. He is a victim of his epic screw-ups as much as anyone else is: He damages his relationships and drives away his lover. He occasionally admits his errors, which is not redemption, but it at least shows that he is not blinded by the narcissism that afflicts so many people who behave similarly.
Late season 2 draws parallels to Kate, whose sense of familial duty also leads her astray. But they arrive at that destination from opposite directions. Kate is utterly self assured, and her sense of duty is self assigned. Her care for her sister Edwina's happiness is doting. She takes on a lifelong commitment to her duties, whereas Anthony tries to discharge his as quickly as possible in order to escape their weight.
In my predictions for their plot arc, I got one thing very wrong, and one thing very right. The strife arose from their respective duties toward Edwina. It was clearly up to Edwina to release them from those duties, which she did.
However, partway through the season, I opined that Anthony and Kate did not belong together. Yes, they had incredible chemistry. But Anthony did not know how to treat women with respect, even when impressed. It would have been a continual effort for Kate to try to "fix" him. This is the grudging fantasy of most hetero women, I suppose, but most het men do not want to be fixed. They want to be comfortable and complacent.
I had inferred too much from the careful work the series had done in portraying gender struggles. Exceptions make compelling fiction. More importantly, I had momentarily overlooked that the series is Jane Austen fanfiction. If Mr. Darcy can learn to show respect when called out by Elizabeth Bennet, perhaps Anthony can do so when confronted by Kate, who will always rise to the challenge. It is a challenge that will often exhaust her. But she had been exhausting herself anyway, and at least this way, she has some happiness to show for it. My feeling that Kate oughtn't settle for Anthony is perhaps too privileged: People make trade-offs all the time, and "settling" for a love both passionate and dutiful isn't that bad a deal.
Perhaps I am too influenced by Anthony's earlier characterization. (Or perhaps I got attached to yelling at his colossal screw-ups.) I do enjoy modern characters whose leanings toward good and bad are driven by understandable motives, and whose leanings could change if their incentives do. (I even enjoyed catching the occasional episode of "Mad Men" over Karen's shoulder: I appreciated the writers giving us a vile, antagonistic character one day, and having them be the sympathetic POV character the next.) People are rarely one thing... Aside from Cressida Cowper, who seems to only exist as a foil for every other young woman: I would be glad of the writers giving her some depth.
Lady Featherington serves the "magnificent bastard" purpose admirably!* Her Machiavellian schemes confounded and then aided both Marina Thompson (season 1) and Lord Jack Featherington (season 2). Even as the schemes went awry, she justified them as being for the good of her family. Her triumph at the end of season 2 was somehow satisfying: Perhaps for its benefit to her daughters, or perhaps for the defeat of a similarly manipulative opponent, as she claimed Jack's unearned power and wealth for herself. His flattery of her as competent, brilliant, and underestimated was spot on, to his detriment.
* I spent way too long down the TVTropes rabbit hole trying to decide between anti-villain, chessmaster, alpha bitch, cry for the devil, or whatever else. Lady Featherington is hard to pin down!
That said, there is something dirty about celebrating the "win" of filthy rich people successfully remaining filthy rich, rather than having to live in the same poverty as everybody else. Though social class is occasionally an obstacle to trust, friendship, and romance, only once is it explored as inherently negative from the lower class' perspective: When Eloise confronts her servant on suspicion of being Lady Whistledown, and the servant contemptuously dresses her down over the notion that anybody with Whistledown's money would submit themselves to serving such a family.
I love that POC are presented as desirable and elegant, without any lampshading. Mentioning race in this context would have cheapened it, as if to say either, "Look at how handsome the Duke is even though he's not white" (undermining the message), or "Marina's dark skin and curly hair are so appealing!" (fetishizing).
I appreciate that the women are largely competent and intelligent, and are rightly shown as having to work hard to claw back agency over their own lives, that is largely denied them. Does this feel real because it matches what I imagine of Regency England, or because it matches what I know of modern America? As a balance to this, Lady Danbury and Queen Charlotte represent women with power in different ways. Lady Danbury in particular is an exquisite role model of respect (given, taken, and earned) and persuasive command, without ever becoming the "dragon" stereotype of abusive power (a stereotype that is itself sexist; deference to authoritative men is portrayed as natural and dutiful, not begrudged or grating).
But then, this is the 2020s. Are one axis each of race and gender the best that they can do? There is one throwaway gay character, served to the viewer and then forgotten. This is set before the Nazis made being genderqueer unfashionable; was it truly unheard of in Regency England? Or are we suffering some equivalent of the Tiffany Problem, in which something that was around at the time (such as the ancient name Tiffany) feels too modern, straining the audience's suspension of disbelief, so writers just leave it out?
There I go: "They did two things right; why couldn't they do more?" I could go watch the gay pirate show if I want. There are other options for varied representation.
I enjoyed some specific bits of writing. Daphne knocks out Berbrooke before Simon arrives to rescue her, subverting the Damsel In Distress trope. Simon turns out to most likely be a literal bastard. The writers never give him this easy out from his vow: He ultimately chooses his love over his trauma, never knowing that his father's line was already ended and that his vow was fulfilled before it was made. Queen Charlotte is deeply antagonized by Lady Whistledown (initially by the accident of excluding her family from a luncheon which then receives no mention), but misses her when the pamphlets stop arriving.
On the subject of Simon's vow, I would have liked to see more childfree representation, anywhere. The show takes for granted that happiness equals children. This idea is a demonstrable, gross, and harmful lie, and yet there is a societal taboo against calling it out. Even those who have suffered the most from child rearing feel pressured to pretend otherwise, until they are at their most open or most drunk. As a consequence, everyone who suffers from having children suffers alone, thinking that there is something wrong with them: Something that everyone else has somehow gotten right. (If that's you, read this.) Given all the duties that can be offloaded to servants, perhaps a show about rich people is not where I should expect this particular revolution to start. (Eloise does not want a family, but that is part of her portrayal as an iconoclast. Using it to highlight how she's different doesn't help normalize it. Additionally, "It's just a phase" is a common, dismissive tactic against any independent expression. Eloise is already having second thoughts about romance, inviting the viewer to expect a change of heart about family that will only uphold societal norms after all.)
I could let the sexual content pass unremarked, out of a misguided acquiescence to Puritanical, Christofascist values that say we should enjoy sex but always pretend that it is the farthest thing from our minds. While I still feel an unnecessary but habitual shyness regarding sexual expression, I sympathize with a sentiment expressed by a friend: At our age, everyone under 30 looks 16. So while I acknowledge Daphne and Simon's eventual escapades as a narratively satisfying reward for their struggles, I am not their target audience for fan service. However, my lack of fixation on prurient details allowed me leisure to appreciate how their actions and expressions during the act continued to advance their narrative. That this is unique in my experience may speak more of my experience than of the storytelling.
In contrast, Kate's eyeliner is exquisite, and makes me want to see every expression she can make.
Let's leave aside the details. The show's direction and acting are superb. I may be poor at "reading the room" in real life, but a character's gaze, or a shift in camera focus, tells me exactly what someone is thinking, and makes me feel clever for noticing it.
The themes in season 2 spoke to me: People acting from love, and having their intentions disbelieved when someone gets hurt. People who expect disappointment, and who thus reject people and situations that they actually want. People living to fulfill others' needs at the cost of being true to themselves.
As I watched people who love each other getting hurt, I was reminded of people from my life. And as I watched some of the situations resolve, I felt inspired to do things I'd been missing, that make me "me". One must note that being true to one's self isn't about "being". It's about doing. Penelope touched on this at the end. So I dusted off an instrument, and got the ball rolling on another musical endeavor. It felt good.
...
Edit, three days later: Phoebe Dynevor (Daphne) and Simone Ashley (Kate) are both 28 years old?!?
The season 2 couple is Anthony Bridgerton and Kate Sharma. Of course, from the beginning of season 1, I have rather despised Anthony, as the writers intended. He is easily pressured by others regarding his duty, and then takes hasty, ill considered, and drastic actions to fulfill that perceived duty. This sounds like anyone with anxiety and childhood trauma, but unlike most such people of my acquaintance, he has no care for the harm he is likely to cause, until it is already in effect. His utter disregard for his sister Daphne's wishes (particularly her abhorrence for Lord Berbrooke) and his later duel with Simon establish him as a sort of villain: Not by malice, but by jackassery. He is a victim of his epic screw-ups as much as anyone else is: He damages his relationships and drives away his lover. He occasionally admits his errors, which is not redemption, but it at least shows that he is not blinded by the narcissism that afflicts so many people who behave similarly.
Late season 2 draws parallels to Kate, whose sense of familial duty also leads her astray. But they arrive at that destination from opposite directions. Kate is utterly self assured, and her sense of duty is self assigned. Her care for her sister Edwina's happiness is doting. She takes on a lifelong commitment to her duties, whereas Anthony tries to discharge his as quickly as possible in order to escape their weight.
In my predictions for their plot arc, I got one thing very wrong, and one thing very right. The strife arose from their respective duties toward Edwina. It was clearly up to Edwina to release them from those duties, which she did.
However, partway through the season, I opined that Anthony and Kate did not belong together. Yes, they had incredible chemistry. But Anthony did not know how to treat women with respect, even when impressed. It would have been a continual effort for Kate to try to "fix" him. This is the grudging fantasy of most hetero women, I suppose, but most het men do not want to be fixed. They want to be comfortable and complacent.
I had inferred too much from the careful work the series had done in portraying gender struggles. Exceptions make compelling fiction. More importantly, I had momentarily overlooked that the series is Jane Austen fanfiction. If Mr. Darcy can learn to show respect when called out by Elizabeth Bennet, perhaps Anthony can do so when confronted by Kate, who will always rise to the challenge. It is a challenge that will often exhaust her. But she had been exhausting herself anyway, and at least this way, she has some happiness to show for it. My feeling that Kate oughtn't settle for Anthony is perhaps too privileged: People make trade-offs all the time, and "settling" for a love both passionate and dutiful isn't that bad a deal.
Perhaps I am too influenced by Anthony's earlier characterization. (Or perhaps I got attached to yelling at his colossal screw-ups.) I do enjoy modern characters whose leanings toward good and bad are driven by understandable motives, and whose leanings could change if their incentives do. (I even enjoyed catching the occasional episode of "Mad Men" over Karen's shoulder: I appreciated the writers giving us a vile, antagonistic character one day, and having them be the sympathetic POV character the next.) People are rarely one thing... Aside from Cressida Cowper, who seems to only exist as a foil for every other young woman: I would be glad of the writers giving her some depth.
Lady Featherington serves the "magnificent bastard" purpose admirably!* Her Machiavellian schemes confounded and then aided both Marina Thompson (season 1) and Lord Jack Featherington (season 2). Even as the schemes went awry, she justified them as being for the good of her family. Her triumph at the end of season 2 was somehow satisfying: Perhaps for its benefit to her daughters, or perhaps for the defeat of a similarly manipulative opponent, as she claimed Jack's unearned power and wealth for herself. His flattery of her as competent, brilliant, and underestimated was spot on, to his detriment.
* I spent way too long down the TVTropes rabbit hole trying to decide between anti-villain, chessmaster, alpha bitch, cry for the devil, or whatever else. Lady Featherington is hard to pin down!
That said, there is something dirty about celebrating the "win" of filthy rich people successfully remaining filthy rich, rather than having to live in the same poverty as everybody else. Though social class is occasionally an obstacle to trust, friendship, and romance, only once is it explored as inherently negative from the lower class' perspective: When Eloise confronts her servant on suspicion of being Lady Whistledown, and the servant contemptuously dresses her down over the notion that anybody with Whistledown's money would submit themselves to serving such a family.
I love that POC are presented as desirable and elegant, without any lampshading. Mentioning race in this context would have cheapened it, as if to say either, "Look at how handsome the Duke is even though he's not white" (undermining the message), or "Marina's dark skin and curly hair are so appealing!" (fetishizing).
I appreciate that the women are largely competent and intelligent, and are rightly shown as having to work hard to claw back agency over their own lives, that is largely denied them. Does this feel real because it matches what I imagine of Regency England, or because it matches what I know of modern America? As a balance to this, Lady Danbury and Queen Charlotte represent women with power in different ways. Lady Danbury in particular is an exquisite role model of respect (given, taken, and earned) and persuasive command, without ever becoming the "dragon" stereotype of abusive power (a stereotype that is itself sexist; deference to authoritative men is portrayed as natural and dutiful, not begrudged or grating).
But then, this is the 2020s. Are one axis each of race and gender the best that they can do? There is one throwaway gay character, served to the viewer and then forgotten. This is set before the Nazis made being genderqueer unfashionable; was it truly unheard of in Regency England? Or are we suffering some equivalent of the Tiffany Problem, in which something that was around at the time (such as the ancient name Tiffany) feels too modern, straining the audience's suspension of disbelief, so writers just leave it out?
There I go: "They did two things right; why couldn't they do more?" I could go watch the gay pirate show if I want. There are other options for varied representation.
I enjoyed some specific bits of writing. Daphne knocks out Berbrooke before Simon arrives to rescue her, subverting the Damsel In Distress trope. Simon turns out to most likely be a literal bastard. The writers never give him this easy out from his vow: He ultimately chooses his love over his trauma, never knowing that his father's line was already ended and that his vow was fulfilled before it was made. Queen Charlotte is deeply antagonized by Lady Whistledown (initially by the accident of excluding her family from a luncheon which then receives no mention), but misses her when the pamphlets stop arriving.
On the subject of Simon's vow, I would have liked to see more childfree representation, anywhere. The show takes for granted that happiness equals children. This idea is a demonstrable, gross, and harmful lie, and yet there is a societal taboo against calling it out. Even those who have suffered the most from child rearing feel pressured to pretend otherwise, until they are at their most open or most drunk. As a consequence, everyone who suffers from having children suffers alone, thinking that there is something wrong with them: Something that everyone else has somehow gotten right. (If that's you, read this.) Given all the duties that can be offloaded to servants, perhaps a show about rich people is not where I should expect this particular revolution to start. (Eloise does not want a family, but that is part of her portrayal as an iconoclast. Using it to highlight how she's different doesn't help normalize it. Additionally, "It's just a phase" is a common, dismissive tactic against any independent expression. Eloise is already having second thoughts about romance, inviting the viewer to expect a change of heart about family that will only uphold societal norms after all.)
I could let the sexual content pass unremarked, out of a misguided acquiescence to Puritanical, Christofascist values that say we should enjoy sex but always pretend that it is the farthest thing from our minds. While I still feel an unnecessary but habitual shyness regarding sexual expression, I sympathize with a sentiment expressed by a friend: At our age, everyone under 30 looks 16. So while I acknowledge Daphne and Simon's eventual escapades as a narratively satisfying reward for their struggles, I am not their target audience for fan service. However, my lack of fixation on prurient details allowed me leisure to appreciate how their actions and expressions during the act continued to advance their narrative. That this is unique in my experience may speak more of my experience than of the storytelling.
In contrast, Kate's eyeliner is exquisite, and makes me want to see every expression she can make.
Let's leave aside the details. The show's direction and acting are superb. I may be poor at "reading the room" in real life, but a character's gaze, or a shift in camera focus, tells me exactly what someone is thinking, and makes me feel clever for noticing it.
The themes in season 2 spoke to me: People acting from love, and having their intentions disbelieved when someone gets hurt. People who expect disappointment, and who thus reject people and situations that they actually want. People living to fulfill others' needs at the cost of being true to themselves.
As I watched people who love each other getting hurt, I was reminded of people from my life. And as I watched some of the situations resolve, I felt inspired to do things I'd been missing, that make me "me". One must note that being true to one's self isn't about "being". It's about doing. Penelope touched on this at the end. So I dusted off an instrument, and got the ball rolling on another musical endeavor. It felt good.
...
Edit, three days later: Phoebe Dynevor (Daphne) and Simone Ashley (Kate) are both 28 years old?!?
