When the trailer for “Bridgerton” season four dropped in December, it was difficult to suppress disappointment in the overused Cinderella storyline: A young woman of low status sneaks into a ball, dances with a prince, leaves before revealing her identity and drops a piece of clothing that he uses to find her. Down to the evil stepmother and stepsisters, the trailer promised an eye-rolling level of predictability — and when the season’s two parts were released in January and February, they delivered just that.
“Bridgerton” is written by a woman and made for women. The Netflix show’s extreme romanticization of England’s regency period features sparkly dresses, yearning men and a racially diverse cast. We follow the Bridgerton family, one of the wealthiest and most respected households in the elite neighborhood of Mayfair, with each season focusing on one or two of the children and their journeys to find love. Season four shifts its attention to Benedict, the family’s last eligible son, who navigates the rigid rules of society and in turn, his socially unacceptable feelings for maid Sophie.
With the spotlight on Benedict, a sexually curious troublemaker in past seasons, the new batch of episodes had the potential to be more chaotic, artsy and, frankly, gayer. Previously, much of Benedict’s story took place in the dimly lit rooms of his art school, where he displayed a refreshing sense of intellect and a passion for the human form. These scenes were respites from the curated image of Mayfair and the relationships within it, which overemphasize the need for eligible men and women to marry. Benedict has already explored himself, including his queerness, pursuing relations with Lady Tilley and her friend Paul. Season four initially gives the audience glimpses of that, such as when Benedict’s mother finds him in bed with two other women and when he kisses a man at a bar.
But the rest of the season turns Benedict into another vanilla, copy-paste Bridgerton brother who falls in love and re-enters society as a polished aristocrat. For most of it, he’s in a dilemma between his love for Sophie and duty to marry someone of his station — that storyline seems wholly uncharacteristic of Benedict, who has never cared to meet social expectations. And of course, a man’s inner turmoil as he falls in love with someone he shouldn’t is central to the storyline of every other “Bridgerton” installment.
The season’s highs, however, are the interactions between recurring characters. Benedict and his mother Violet are refreshingly open in their conversations, which brim with emotional intelligence and vulnerability. Despite society’s judgments, she encourages her son to follow his heart, and Benedict, in turn, encourages Violet to embrace the free-spirited nature she once embodied before becoming engulfed by her responsibilities as a wife and mother. Season four also does well in developing Benedict’s relationship with his sister Eloise, both of whom admit their fears and uncertainty of the future as the two siblings with the least prospects for marriage.
Benedict and Sophie’s relationship is cute, and fun to watch blossom through quick glances across the room and accidental run-ins. But his obsession with her feels like it came at the expense of sexual experimentation and inspirational curiosity. With a queer character comes the opportunity for a more dynamic narrative, one that raises even more alarms within Mayfair’s social scene — rather than a story whose tension is relegated to an internal battle. Benedict slips through the show without a single scandal and promptly ends up with Sophie, whom the show suddenly spins into a perfectly acceptable match.
While season four had moments of suspense and emotionally tumultuous sequences, its predictable storyline makes it difficult to stay invested. The “Bridgerton” books, on which the series is based, assure that season five will feature a prominent queer relationship, but the failure to take Benedict in that direction is nonetheless disappointing. Good love stories don’t have to follow tried-and-true tropes. We want more — more spice, more passion and more chaos.
Contact Serin Lee at [email protected].