This review covers Bridgerton Season 3, Episodes 1-4.
The romances on the Netflix regency drama Bridgerton usually play out like the burning of a candlewick: a steady progression of heat. But Season 3 – the first four episodes of which are now streaming – is shaping its love story up to be more like dynamite with a long fuse that winds and winds until it finally explodes. These episodes are a sumptuous reintroduction to the ton and its unspoken tensions, often at the expense of Season 3’s core couple: wallflower-moonlighting-as-gossip-columnist Penelope Featherington (Nicola Coughlan) and her puppy-dog childhood friend Colin Bridgerton (Luke Newton). All that wandering focus and delayed gratification is meant to set up anticipation for the next four episodes arriving in mid-June, but the question is: Can this season hold our attention until then?
Season 3 departs from the running order of the show’s source material. Rather than focusing on Benedict, as Julia Quinn did in her third novel about the Bridgerton family, An Offer from a Gentlemen, showrunner Jess Brownell (inheriting the role from creator Chris Van Dusen) turns her eye to Colin and Penelope. The season premiere leaves no doubt as to why. In some ways, this is the romance the entire series has been leading to. Daphne’s got her duke and Antony secured his own passionate marriage, but Penelope herself has become the lifeblood of the series. Lady Whistledown is the driving force of the drama within the chattering ton, meaning that Penelope’s own ostracization has been inexplicably linked to the events of each season from the start. And after putting her through all that pining in the first place? Colin Bridgerton, you have a lot to answer for.
But you’re not here for backstory! You’re here to get answers to the important questions: Can Colin Bridgerton really make me swoon? Yes! Will Penelope finally find happiness? I think so! How awkward will it be if I watch this with my mom? We’ll see! There really isn’t much action between Colin and Penelope in part one.
Instead, these first few episodes teem with B and C plots – character threads that vary in importance and, ultimately, crowd the season. Francesca Bridgerton (played this season by Hannah Dodd) enters the marriage mart; Eloise (Claudia James) navigates a shocking new friendship; Penelope’s sisters are racing to produce the first Featherington heir. There’s a lot going on, and this doesn’t even take into consideration the Pygmalion/My Fair Lady/She’s All That-esque plot device that sees Colin agree to teach Penelope how to secure a husband.
In fact, a glaring weakness of Season 3, Part 1 is that it feels as though the romance is purposefully restrained in anticipation of a cliffhanger. Rather than arriving to a dramatic end via natural progression, I could feel the arc artificially trying to keep me subscribed to Netflix for one more month. The result is four episodes that feel at once overstuffed and simultaneously inconsequential.
When Coughlan and Newton do share scenes alone, their chemistry is giddy and surprisingly playful. These episodes remind us that Penelope and Colin are lifelong friends, something that’s gotten lost after two seasons of unrequited pining. Coughlan channels her comedic chops (with which fans of Derry Girls are well acquainted) and Newton brings more internal life to Colin than we’ve seen in seasons previous. Much needed, considering we’ve always been told of Colin’s sensitivity but don’t always get to see it.
Truly, these episodes are an ode to the powerful effect of styling. Costume designer John Glaser and make up and hair designer Erika Ökvist have brilliantly altered Penelope’s look with soft, cascading waves and a dreamy new wardrobe. In an instant she transforms into a vision right out of a regency painting. What ties it all together is Coughlan’s steadfast commitment to the character. This isn’t a revenge dress that solves all of Penelope’s insecurities. She remains awkward and, at times, melancholic, harboring that desperation for acceptance that led to the creation of her searing alter ego in the first place.
Though the season takes time to slip on its dancing shoes, Episode 4 ends with the sort of ferocious passion you want from a Bridgerton romance. Without giving too much away, the show nails the one thing I most anticipated: portraying Penelope’s desire. Her body is filmed sensually, and her pleasure has its own breathtaking crescendo. For a character who has been told for two whole seasons that she’s unwantable, the end of Episode 4 is a stirring emotional precursor to Part 2 of Season 3. And it’s deeply frustrating that Bridgerton meanders in getting there.
These four episodes aren’t bad by any means, but the fleeting moments in which I was glued to my seat reminded me that there was so much more being held back. Themes of masculinity, parental estrangement, ambition, and more are set up for something massive in the second half – if only the show’s structure didn’t get in its own way. Time will tell how the entire season plays out. One can only hope the end of the race is worth its running.
