Shonda Rhimes’s adaptation of Julia Quinn’s Bridgerton books is a masterclass in adaptations that push the envelope of the original work. With each new season or spin-off of her massively popular Netflix series, Rhimes has expanded the scope of representation. From childhood trauma, racism, mental health, female friendships, and body diversity, each season has been one step ahead of the previous ones.
The culmination of the romance between Colin Bridgerton (Luke Newton) and Penelope Featherington (Nicola Coughlan) had been long awaited, but its execution in the latest season was sheer perfection. Steamy, romantic, political—Bridgerton season 3 is a delicious binge-watch.
This season allows viewers to swoon over a heroine who does not fit into the quintessential idea of a ‘desirable’ woman. She is not slim and tall. But she also never stops asking for what she deserves. For once, body diversity is not just a political statement, but part of a tender, passionate story that doesn’t feel the need to overcompensate.
Romantic love is central to Rhimes’s world and is served with a healthy dose of toe-curling moments. But it is always accompanied by the women characters standing up for themselves. From last season’s fan favourite Kate Sharma (Simone Ashley) asserting her independence to Penelope’s mighty, sassy pen, it is wonderful to have a romance that’s not all about ‘this is what men like in women’.
The Bridgerton ladies really couldn’t care less. They might have their doubts, but their marriages and liaisons always happen on their own terms, centred around their idea of love.
Worshipping curves unabashedly
Traditionally an upholder of conventional body and beauty standards, Hollywood has never been kind to ‘big women’. If you are a couple of kgs heavier, you’re most likely to get comic roles. Even if you play the lead, you have to compensate with humour or some form of apology. After all, how can women of a certain shape and size experience love and lust, right?
Bridgerton’s Penelope, played to perfection by Coughlan, is refreshingly flawed and endearing; it’s impossible to imagine the show without her. After all, would life even be interesting without Mrs Whistledown? Would any episode be as thrilling if there was no voice-over starting with ‘Dearest Gentle Reader’?
In the world of ‘revenge bodies’ and ‘weight loss journeys’, it is wonderfully refreshing to be unabashedly worshipped for one’s curves, as Colin does for Penelope in the now-famous ‘mirror scene’.
The delicious charm of watching the two fall for each other is not marred by sex scenes that hesitate to show their bodies. The camera pans over the pair and focuses on Penelope, showing her to be every bit as desirable as the heroines of the previous seasons.
People have noticed, and have applauded the show for it.
Also read: ‘Bridgerton’s Nicola Coughlan praises “evil butterfly” Cressida’s ‘Whistledown’ portrayal
Penelope’s growth
The latest season also gives Penelope more independence—the kind that comes with having one’s own money—and growth. She no longer dresses in citrus colours chosen by her mother. Hesitantly but surely, she asserts her identity and her changing wardrobe reflects this.
She solves her own problems, smoothes over familial conflict, and doesn’t allow herself to be pitied. Penelope sheds other people’s expectations of her and learns to stand up for herself. She grows into a woman and matures as an author.
Whether it’s friendship, romance, or her career, she gets everything, and that is a big win for on-screen representation of a wider variety of women’s bodies.
Through the show’s inclusivity and politics, Rhimes seeks to remind her gentle audience that love is beyond the boxes ticked in a marriage mart. So be it Queen Charlotte and King George III, Kate and Anthony, or even Lady Danbury and Lord Ledger, romance in Bridgerton comes in all shapes and sizes. And Shondaland celebrates every kind.
Of course, the show will not just stop at acing this season. We already have an idea of what will come next, with the stories of two other Bridgertons, Benedict (Luke Thompson) and Francesca (Hannah Dodd), waiting to be told. It is Rhimes’s regency world, and it is inclusive to boot.
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(Edited by Prasanna Bachchhav)