#82 Kiss Me, Kate
03/04/22 12:26
It is no exaggeration to say that Bridgerton S1 got me through the Bad Lockdown. Bridgerton, and booze. January 2021 was a shocker, but the symptoms of home schooling in a harsh winter were alleviated by watching the Duke of Hastings get it on (and on and on) with the fragrant Daphne while I knocked back too much pinot grigio and tried to banish thoughts of Google Classroom. I enjoyed the first season so much I wrote not one but two blogs about it. So my fan was aflutter at the thought of a second run.
I'm consuming it in much the same way I put away garlic bread – promising myself one piece and no more, then polishing off the whole baguette in one. It’s so moreish and tasty. But, since we’re on the subject of getting one’s mouth round phallic-shaped objects, can I begin my critique by declaring that this series is not as…. rumpy-pumpy as the last? I’d go so far as to say it’s quite refined – I kept hoping Anthony and Kate would succumb to their obvious rampant lust and go hard at it in Aubrey Hall’s library, but instead it’s all heaving bosoms and holding back. Not so much as a delicate fingering in the orangery.
However, just because the first few eps are a bit consummatum isn't doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying it. Oh yes, it’s a fine filly of a show still – everyone’s hot AF, the dresses are ridic, the music banging. I must confess to not being au fait with the original text, which is naughty of an author, but I suspect Shonda and her crew have not remained entirely faithful to the books, deviating where they see fit. Given that Bridgerton throws authenticity to the wind, I don’t think we need worry whether the scriptwriters adhere to Julia Quinn’s narrative or indeed aim for any kind of historical accuracy – there seems to be a collective ‘fuck it’ going on, which I heartily applaud. There are those pedants who watch Downton going ‘I don’t think the dog would be on a lead on an estate, do you…?’ Whereas Bridgerton just offers us the entirely anachronistic corgi Newton, the equivalent of a canine finger (or claw) to the pseuds. Brava!
Talking of bras, let us consider the magnificent bee scene. I don’t mean the one where Anthony’s dad cops it, though that was tremendous, but the bit where Kate gets stung, grabs the Viscount’s hand and presses it to her tit to reassure him she’s OK. My own décolletage was burning up, I can tell you. It’s too darn hot… Because Simon the Duke was so smoking in the first series, Anthony went under the radar somewhat – it took me a couple of episodes to pick him out of the line-up with his identikit brothers, Gap Yah Colin and arty-fartist Benedict, but I must admit I now find him rather dashing. He truly needs a diamond of the first water to be his worthy Viscountess. Sadly, I am unavailable, being previously espoused, but I gather he’s going to have one of the Sharma sisters when he makes up his mind which. Edwina is Eliza, and Kate is Angelica - can Anthony be their Hamilton?
All the Bridgertons prefer the fiery Kate to her more demure younger sister - Edwina’s supposed to be a milk-and-water miss, but I rather like her. There’s a great scene where Anthony warns her that as a married man, he’ll be gadding off shooting things or whatever Gentlemen do, leaving her on her own, and she says she doesn’t give a shit because she prefers books anyway. That indicates a decent degree of inner feist, and she’s certainly more agreeable than her sister, who’s always showing off and being rude to hide her horn. Playing the shrew, Kate’s ardour couldn’t be more obvious if she wore a fetching sash exquisitely embroidered with the words ‘I fancy you rotten’ – which is, to be fair, a sartorial choice that the costume department might well go for. They could give the Bridgerton bros nameplates while they’re at it, so we can tell them apart.
Let’s talk about Lady Whistledown, revealed in the last season to be Penelope Featherington, who now has a logistical nightmare producing her scandalous pamphlets. The titbits you hear in V/O, nicely drawled by the legendary Julie Andrews, seem very much at odds with what we know of their scribe, who is soppy about Colin ‘I went to Paxos’ Bridgerton but reveals little else of her character. I’m impressed by 35-year-old Nicola Coughlan’s ability to play a teenager, enjoy her natural Irish accent when she’s haggling with market traders, but I want something more from Pen. PEN!!! That was the clue all along. I wonder if Eloise will work it out, or if she’s too busy becoming an early incarnation of Winifred Banks? There’s something faintly cartoonish about Miss Bridgerton in this series, and I wish she’d dial it down a little, keep it real. Oh, I know the whole thing is a big silly pantomime and that’s what we love about it, but this show’s great strength is it makes you buy in to the tosh and somehow actually care about the characters, even when they’re in absurd towering wigs, nodding to each other on horseback. When the world’s going to hell in a handcart, I just want five minutes’ respite, to wonder if the wedding of the season will go off with a bang.
I’ve only watched five episodes so far, and gather all the sex is in Ep7 – I genuinely don’t know how Ant ‘n’ Kate are going to get it on, but look forward immensely to their happy union. Maybe he’ll suck out the sting.
I'm consuming it in much the same way I put away garlic bread – promising myself one piece and no more, then polishing off the whole baguette in one. It’s so moreish and tasty. But, since we’re on the subject of getting one’s mouth round phallic-shaped objects, can I begin my critique by declaring that this series is not as…. rumpy-pumpy as the last? I’d go so far as to say it’s quite refined – I kept hoping Anthony and Kate would succumb to their obvious rampant lust and go hard at it in Aubrey Hall’s library, but instead it’s all heaving bosoms and holding back. Not so much as a delicate fingering in the orangery.
However, just because the first few eps are a bit consummatum isn't doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying it. Oh yes, it’s a fine filly of a show still – everyone’s hot AF, the dresses are ridic, the music banging. I must confess to not being au fait with the original text, which is naughty of an author, but I suspect Shonda and her crew have not remained entirely faithful to the books, deviating where they see fit. Given that Bridgerton throws authenticity to the wind, I don’t think we need worry whether the scriptwriters adhere to Julia Quinn’s narrative or indeed aim for any kind of historical accuracy – there seems to be a collective ‘fuck it’ going on, which I heartily applaud. There are those pedants who watch Downton going ‘I don’t think the dog would be on a lead on an estate, do you…?’ Whereas Bridgerton just offers us the entirely anachronistic corgi Newton, the equivalent of a canine finger (or claw) to the pseuds. Brava!
Talking of bras, let us consider the magnificent bee scene. I don’t mean the one where Anthony’s dad cops it, though that was tremendous, but the bit where Kate gets stung, grabs the Viscount’s hand and presses it to her tit to reassure him she’s OK. My own décolletage was burning up, I can tell you. It’s too darn hot… Because Simon the Duke was so smoking in the first series, Anthony went under the radar somewhat – it took me a couple of episodes to pick him out of the line-up with his identikit brothers, Gap Yah Colin and arty-fartist Benedict, but I must admit I now find him rather dashing. He truly needs a diamond of the first water to be his worthy Viscountess. Sadly, I am unavailable, being previously espoused, but I gather he’s going to have one of the Sharma sisters when he makes up his mind which. Edwina is Eliza, and Kate is Angelica - can Anthony be their Hamilton?
All the Bridgertons prefer the fiery Kate to her more demure younger sister - Edwina’s supposed to be a milk-and-water miss, but I rather like her. There’s a great scene where Anthony warns her that as a married man, he’ll be gadding off shooting things or whatever Gentlemen do, leaving her on her own, and she says she doesn’t give a shit because she prefers books anyway. That indicates a decent degree of inner feist, and she’s certainly more agreeable than her sister, who’s always showing off and being rude to hide her horn. Playing the shrew, Kate’s ardour couldn’t be more obvious if she wore a fetching sash exquisitely embroidered with the words ‘I fancy you rotten’ – which is, to be fair, a sartorial choice that the costume department might well go for. They could give the Bridgerton bros nameplates while they’re at it, so we can tell them apart.
Let’s talk about Lady Whistledown, revealed in the last season to be Penelope Featherington, who now has a logistical nightmare producing her scandalous pamphlets. The titbits you hear in V/O, nicely drawled by the legendary Julie Andrews, seem very much at odds with what we know of their scribe, who is soppy about Colin ‘I went to Paxos’ Bridgerton but reveals little else of her character. I’m impressed by 35-year-old Nicola Coughlan’s ability to play a teenager, enjoy her natural Irish accent when she’s haggling with market traders, but I want something more from Pen. PEN!!! That was the clue all along. I wonder if Eloise will work it out, or if she’s too busy becoming an early incarnation of Winifred Banks? There’s something faintly cartoonish about Miss Bridgerton in this series, and I wish she’d dial it down a little, keep it real. Oh, I know the whole thing is a big silly pantomime and that’s what we love about it, but this show’s great strength is it makes you buy in to the tosh and somehow actually care about the characters, even when they’re in absurd towering wigs, nodding to each other on horseback. When the world’s going to hell in a handcart, I just want five minutes’ respite, to wonder if the wedding of the season will go off with a bang.
I’ve only watched five episodes so far, and gather all the sex is in Ep7 – I genuinely don’t know how Ant ‘n’ Kate are going to get it on, but look forward immensely to their happy union. Maybe he’ll suck out the sting.
- Bridgerton Series 2, 8 episodes, Netflix
