Like 63 million other people I have been bewitched by Bridgerton during January. It’s the perfect antidote to the most miserable month of the year, fabulous costumes, diversity of characters, beautiful styling and some of the nicest wallpaper I’ve ever seen in my whole life.
Charming Regency Pastiche or Boring Bonkfest?
This frothy concoction of frivolity and make-believe is perfectly accompanied by a jumbo Toblerone and half price bottle of Baileys (thank you Mr Morrison). Admittedly, some of the acting is rather hammy; Miss Sienna is about as wooden as the stage door of the theatre she performs at and the two older Featherington sisters would be the perfect foil for Cinderella, no doubt they’ll be in panto this Christmas. But it matters not, as this light hearted costume drama has got us talking about something else, apart from that bloody virus.
A friend told me ‘It’s Jane Austen meets Jilly Cooper’ and I reckon she’s spot on. She also told me it would be inadvisable to watch it with husband. I’m not sure if she believed all the bodice ripping action would turn him into a sex fiend or had considered he may take it upon himself to dub the dialogue with extremely rude voice-overs; regrettably, the latter was true.
For the record it’s very hard to concentrate on a programme when the occupant of the seat next to you is shouting ‘give it to me your Grace, I’m allergic to my bodice’ along with some very unsavoury references to boerewors.
Hmmphf! Marriage – expect little, forgive plenty and the Duchess of Hastings would be as well to remember that.
Apparently, it’s had some academics up in arms, with them complaining it’s not a true reflection of Regency England – surely not? Bridgerton is about as likely a representation of real life 1813 as the Trump administration was to democracy and decent values – I digress.
Anyways it’s not the costumes, the jewellery or even the gardens that’s got us ladies hooked, make no mistake it’s all about the Duke of Hastings. I for one, am very glad to see so many gratuitous naked scenes that feature him déshabillé, what a delightful sight it is.
However, you can can have too much of a good thing and it did start to get a bit ‘samey’ with the story line slower than the frantic sex scenes and the plot hanging solely on the Duke’s enormous hard-on who was Lady Whistledown and not much else.
As the Duke reached for his flies in the final episode, I am disappointed to say it had me yawning and not panting for more.
Although I do believe dear reader, more is, in fact, exactly what we’re going to get as Series 2 has already been commissioned – well that’s what Lady Whistledown told me.
