The long-awaited Bridgerton season three released its second part on June 13, sparking fan discussion and discourse.
The Netflix adaptation of Julia Quinn’s bodice-ripping romance novels has found huge success since its debut in 2020. Those looking for a Regency-era period piece romance with plenty of whimsy and diversity have flocked to the Bridgerton series. Produced by Shondaland, the same company behind Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal, and How to Get Away with Murder, the intrigue of this series not only captures the thrill of the books but expands them into a romance for many more to enjoy.
With Daphne and the Duke matching up in season one and fan favorites Anthony and Kate overcoming obstacles in season two, fans were looking forward to Penelope Featherington’s shot at romance.
Played by Irish actress Nicola Coughlan, also known for her role in Netflix’s Derry Girls, Penelope finally got her time to shine with a wardrobe upgrade to match. She finds love with the third of the titular family’s sons, Colin, portrayed by English actor Luke Newton. Both performers had such an exciting chemistry during interviews that many were excited to see what this season had in store for them.
Unfortunately, Coughlan and Newton’s chemistry only went as far as their interviews. On-screen, Penelope and Colin had something missing.
Penelope had a lot going on as a character: an underappreciating mother, family finance issues, a double life as Mayfair’s secret gossip, and her fallout with her best friend, Eloise. Like a coming-of-age arc, Penelope is fed up with spending so much wasted energy pining over Colin and is determined to marry with or without him. This new light to Penelope’s character was incredibly welcome, adding depth and intrigue to her story.
Colin Bridgerton, on the other hand, wasn’t as interesting. He has a newfound haughtiness about him starting the season, returning from his travels (that I’m sure he can’t wait to bore everyone about). He brags about women he sleeps with while away and bemoans to Penelope about how he missed her previously constant letters. Though it’s revealed later that Colin has insecurities that he overcompensates for, it’s difficult to feel bad for him.
The beginning of the season tries to go for an “experienced man teaching an insecure woman about romance and sex” trope, through which Colin teaches Penelope how to flirt. In season one, the same trope—though it still could have been done without it—worked since there was a theme of criticizing society’s withholding of sex education from women.
This season, however, the trope came off as condescending and largely unnecessary. Frankly, it made Colin even less likable. Unclear to the audience whether Colin is cruel or stupid, he encourages Penelope to act out courting procedures with him. Roleplaying these scenarios eventually overwhelms Penelope since it’s been made more than obvious that this is what she really wants to do with him.
How is it that, when Penelope asks Colin to kiss her, something she’s at her wit’s end desiring, only then does Colin realize her feelings and his own? This magical kiss isn’t very romantic—though there are certainly some bonus points for the beautifully lit outdoor scenery. Penelope asking Colin to reciprocate her feelings is tedious and a massive eye roll.
Before the main couple— well, coupled up, Penelope begins shooting her shot with a fellow wallflower, Lord Debling. They hit it off immediately, bonding over books and being disinterested in the hustle and bustle of the marriage market. They’re both witty, smart, thoughtful, and very kind. She’s outgoing when given the chance to speak, and he’s a wonderfully contented and supportive listener—a match made in heaven.
The only issue was that Debling would take a lot of time away from home and wouldn’t exactly be able to provide the close and loving relationship that Penelope seemed to want. Either way, at the moment, I at least was rooting for them—finally, a man who understood Penelope’s value immediately!
Of course, Colin would switch up his act shortly after Penelope’s involvement with Lord Debling. Kind of, at least—they get married right after an unchaperoned spicy moment in the back of a carriage, all Colin’s hasty idea. Poor Penelope looked like she would pass out from losing her virginity one moment to being announced as Colin’s betrothed the next. The pacing of Penelope and Colin’s romance was disorientingly rapid at the beginning, creating an odd mood for the rest of the season.
From actions like these, it’s clear that Colin shouldn’t be in charge of anything. Every decision he makes is hasty and self-righteous, especially later in the story. Without giving too much away, someone threatens to reveal Penelope’s secret identity as Lady Whistledown. Penelope insists on paying them off as requested since she’s made her own money.
Colin, however, simply can’t let the easiest solution happen. Believing he must protect his wife—for surely she cannot protect herself—he insists on telling the blackmailer to back down. This backfires, obviously, and they raise the price of their silence.
What was at first a confounding mystery as to why Colin and Penelope didn’t feel good together finally clicked into place? Penelope, the self-made businesswoman and talented writer, finally powerfully took charge of her life. She started to call the shots—growing from a timid girl to an incredibly capable woman, Penelope was everything.
Colin never noticed her everything, but when he did, he felt that somehow he needed to build himself up to match her. He felt that something was lacking in him to be “worthy” of her. But when he realized that he didn’t need to protect her—he didn’t need to be more than himself—and instead let her run the show, that’s when both characters were at their best. It was okay that he was just Colin.
Though the main couple was hard to cheer for, the theme of overcoming one’s insecurities added an interesting internal conflict for many characters. Taking charge of one’s life is the solution, Bridgerton seems to say, for these insecurities are born out of society’s expectations. Breaking free from those expectations and putting your foot down—stepping into the spotlight, like Penelope in one of her most powerful scenes—is hard but worth it.
Penelope and Colin learn they don’t need to be more than themselves to know love. Penelope puts herself down and believes herself to be less than the other young women of London, but when she learns that she is capable as is, she finds her confidence. Colin, too, cannot realize he feels inferior to the young men around him until they slap him in the face later in the story.
Neither lovebird is lacking anything but a contentment of oneself—they are as worthy of love as anyone else just as they are. Their relationship only works when they play to their strengths and don’t extend themselves to people they aren’t.
Alongside Penelope and Colin, several subplots were going on this season. Perhaps too many subplots, as critics have pointed out.
Some were interesting and engaging; others could have been kept for another season. Because other characters took up so much screen time, Penelope and Colin’s romance suffered despite the satisfying ending.
To keep it brief, the subplots of the season were as follows: Anthony and Kate return from their honeymoon and are the Viscount and Viscountess until they go away again; Benedict learns the allure of bisexuality, free love, and threesomes; friends of the Bridgertons, the Mondrichs, are elevated to Duke and Duchess status and learn about high society; Lady Danbury’s brother returns to London and forges a flirtatious relationship with widowed Violet Bridgerton; Francesca has her debut into the marriage market and seeks out a quiet marriage partner; and Eloise and Cressida Cowper are friends in hard times.
Debatably, only the latter two subplots seemed remotely related to this season’s ongoing themes, even as much as I loved Violet’s well-deserved retry at romance and Benedict’s exploration of queer love on screen. Overall, this season felt crowded and hard to focus on.
My dad, an inconspicuous show fan, asked, “Who are the main couple again?” Multiple times. If that doesn’t demonstrate how much time was spent on characters other than Penelope and Colin, I’m not sure what does.
However, the most heated debate that cropped up online regarded one of these subplots. During the season, Francesca Bridgerton searches for marriage but not love. Francesca insists that the love her mother wishes for the Bridgerton children—a fiery, passionate, all-encompassing love match—isn’t what she wants.
She’s smitten with a quiet man, as quiet as herself, who loves music as much as she does. John Kilmartin is thoughtful, kind, and very well-off. They marry, and all is well and peaceful, as Francesca was looking for.
In the books, after some complications in Francesca’s first marriage, she forges a romance with Michael Stirling, John’s cousin. At the end of season three of the show, though, a bomb was dropped.
John’s cousin, Michaela Stirling, is introduced. Francesa’s mind goes blank, and she forgets her own name, which was absolutely taken by her, just as Violet said it happened to her when she first met her husband.
All this foretells that Francesca’s season will focus on a queer romance. No longer will queer love in Bridgerton be kept to a subplot—it will be the main attraction.
Some fans of the books celebrated the change, glad the show’s diversity extends to a sapphic romance that will be just as interesting as the book. Other fans denounced it, disappointed that the series’ most beloved book and romance would be altered.
Showrunner Jess Brownell claimed that Julia Quinn, the author of the books, gave her blessing for altering Francesca’s story.
Brownell explained to Teen Vogue, “I want to tell a story that accurately reflects a queer experience, and the first time I read Francesca’s book, I really identified with it as a queer woman.”
Quinn would also chime in, writing on social media, “Anyone who has seen an interview with me from the past four years knows that I am deeply committed to the Bridgerton world becoming more diverse and inclusive as the stories move from book to screen.”
Nonetheless, queer love becoming the focal point of the juggernaut that Bridgerton has become is likely to be just as entertaining as the straight romances we’ve seen. Bridgerton is known for showing and honoring all love stories regardless of race, nationality, or class. Is it that surprising that gender and sexuality would come into the mix at some point?
Though the season was weak compared to the other two seasons, it wasn’t all bad. Despite Colin’s dislikeable attitude and personality and the story’s oddly paced and too-complex subplots, Bridgerton season three was entertaining.
Above all, if you’re looking for a cheesy romance show with steaminess, diversity in people and stories, and brilliant English accents, this show is for you. I’m looking forward to the following seasons, especially if Colin gets the same treatment as the married-off Bridgerton siblings of seasons past.
Victoria Kingsmore can be reached at [email protected]