This review contains spoilers for Bridgerton Season 4.
Netflix’s Bridgerton (2020-present) is welcoming its dearest gentle viewers back for a fourth season, and it’s just as flouncy and swoon-worthy as ever.
This time around, the Shonda Rhimes production—based on the book series of the same name—turns its attention to Benedict Bridgerton (Luke Thompson), the second-oldest son in the titular family, in a twist on the classic Cinderella tale. His romance begins at a masquerade ball, where he becomes enchanted by a mysterious “lady in silver.” Determined to find her, he begins searching throughout the ton, or Regency England’s upper-class society, for the masked woman who stole his heart. Meanwhile, he grows close to a maid named Sophie (Yerin Ha), unaware that she is the very woman he has been looking for.
Like each season before it, Bridgerton Season 4 follows a familiar formula. The central romance lies between a reckless bachelor (or, in 19th-century speak, a rake) and a young woman who—for some given reason—cannot or will not marry him. The formula is tried and true, but repetition always carries the risk of settling into an exaggerated version of what the series once was.
That danger was noticeably present in season three, which struggled to balance the show’s ever-expanding ensemble cast, resulting in tiresome subplots that muddled the story. Season 4, fortunately, amends these stumbles with B- and C-plots that feel additive and, in some instances, outshine the central storyline.
One subplot highlight centers Queen Charlotte (Golda Rosheuvel) and Lady Danbury (Adjoa Andoh), who are navigating the potential final moments of their decades-old friendship as Lady Danbury desires to leave England to visit her ancestral home. The conflict and its eventual conclusion offer a sentimental and bittersweet portrayal of female friendship, especially for women later in life.
Some of the season’s best moments surround Francesca Stirling (Hannah Dodd), the fifth Bridgerton sibling. In the later half of the season, Francesca discovers her husband, John (Victor Alli) dead in their bedroom, leaving her widowed at just 19 years old. In Episode 7, “The Beyond”—one of the strongest episodes in the entire series—Dodd delivers a heart-wrenching performance, capturing Francesca’s grief for her husband and for the family they never got to build together. Her emotions come in complex waves of numbing shock and deep anguish, all exacerbated by John’s cousin, Michaela (Masali Baduza), whose headstrong temperament clashes with Francesca’s penchant for rule-following.
Season 4 also reels in much of Season 3’s excess in the costume, hair, and makeup departments, which adorned characters in garish costumes and glammed-up makeup that distracted from the characters themselves. It’s certainly a return to form, recapturing much of what makes the first two seasons so beloved. There is a much calmer balance struck between historical accuracy and the fantasticality of the Bridgerton universe—which, admittedly, never promised to be a faithful replica of early 19th-century London.
Bridgerton famously imagines a culturally diverse Regency society, inspired by the theory that Queen Charlotte may have been biracial. This creative choice, which diverges from Julia Quinn’s original novels, has become one of the show’s defining features, bringing representation of many communities to the screen. In Season 2, for instance, love interests Kate (Simone Ashley) and Edwina Sharma (Charithra Chandran) are from Bombay, India, and aspects of their culture are incorporated into the storyline, from traditional wedding ceremonies to a hatred for English-style tea.
Because of this precedent, many fans were excited to see that Season 4’s love interest would be Korean, changing the book’s Sophie Beckett to Sophie Baek. Fans speculated about how the show might bring elements of Korean culture into the Regency setting, perhaps implementing hanbok-inspired costume design elements or moments where Sophie might speak Korean. In reality, very little of this came true. Aside from a passing mention of her ability to speak Korean and her name change, there was very little acknowledgment of her heritage.
That is not to say that every element of her character should have been visibly referential to her cultural background. In fact, it would be very easy for that direction to evolve into orientalism or separate her from the show’s white cast. But in Bridgerton, a show that prides and markets itself on its diversity, it is disappointing that Sophie’s Korean identity was left unexplored.
Introducing Sophie does bring the issue of class into the picture. In prior seasons, the maids, cooks, and coachmen often faded into the background as the Bridgerton family lived lives of comfort and luxury. The new season gives the audience a rare peek into the servants’ quarters, offering insight into labor behind the ton.
Beyond simply acknowledging the staff, the season delves into the realities of the power structures embedded in high society. As several servants face the threat of unemployment, viewers see how the whims of the show’s main characters can dramatically change the lives of working-class people at the drop of a hat. As the illegitimate child of a nobleman and a maid, Sophie knows all too well how the affections of a wealthy man can be fleeting and dangerous. With Sophie’s livelihood on the line, Benedict must decide whether his love is unwavering before the two can truly be together.
Bridgerton has plans to span seven total seasons, one for each sibling’s love story. Now over halfway through, the show must begin paving the way for a strong finish; and, in many respects, Season 4 does exactly that. After a shaky Season 3, this installment feels like a necessary course correction as the show finally pulls its ensemble cast together. If Bridgerton continues on this path, the show may well be on its way to a satisfying final stretch.
