Bridgerton without sex; It’s like a tonic without the gin. Not drinking, of course, but really missing the point.
Because let’s be honest ladies, great sex scenes have been the entire backbone of the Bridgerton craze.
Or, to be more precise, the sex scenes between Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dynevor) and her husband Simon, Duke of Hastings (Rare Jean Page).
“Because ladies, let’s be honest, adorable sex scenes have been the backbone of the Bridgerton craze,” writes Maggie Alderson.
Dear I. This man’s eyebrows turn most women into shivering ruins. I still rewatch the moment he licks his teaspoon clean (fans will know what I mean) just to remind myself how amazingly erotic that is.
And when on his wedding night he said to his new bride, “I’m on fire for you”… well, get me and the rest of the women off the floor.
It was already a shock to find out that he wouldn’t be returning for a second season, even though we were hoping new protagonist Anthony Bridgerton, played by Jonathan Bailey, would fill his immaculate shoes.
So when I heard that the long-awaited new series about The Regency, which is on Netflix from Friday, has very little hot stuff – only three minutes for the entire series, and you have to wait for the seventh episode for my God, my beating heart to stop.
And I was not alone. Social media — not to mention every review — was full of frustrated women.
Considering the first season was almost 20 minutes of poignancy and the first romp happened within three minutes of the first episode, is it any wonder we feel left out?
Because in a world where most TV sex is either brutal or harsh, Bridgerton’s joy is that his sensual yet saucy love scenes are something great to celebrate.
While the prevalence of streaming platforms means we’re overwhelmed with choices, I hardly watch TV dramas these days.
I can’t stand any mention of sexual assault in entertainment, and there’s so much of it, even on shows you don’t expect.
Maggie Alderson says that “in a world where much of the sex on TV is either violent or hardcore, Bridgerton’s joy is that his sensual yet daring love scenes are something great to celebrate.”
Then it’s safer not to join.
I missed the whole Game of Thrones phenomenon because I didn’t want to watch the endless horrific rape scenes, the first of which happened in the show’s pilot episode.
And I’m equally put off by the “harsh” consensual sex seen on shows like The Industry, which has an aggressive, pornographic tinge, with thrusts in toilets and on kitchen countertops.
There was absolutely zero tenderness. It was like a male idea of what makes sex sexy.
In contrast, sex in Bridgerton was in many ways what women find sexy, and it didn’t hurt that it took place on a four-poster bed, insanity, and, unforgettably, in a stately home library.
As Julia Quinn, author of the novels on which the show is based, says, “The difference is that you look at it from a feminine perspective, not a masculine one. This feminization of intimacy is revolutionary.”
She is right there. We see it all very much from Daphne’s point of view, and her pleasure is in the spotlight – to the point that even when she and heavenly Simon were still at the stage of just good friends, he teaches her how to achieve pleasure by advising her ” touch yourself” when she’s alone at night.
This time it was a female on-screen climax that women really believed in.
I also felt able to surrender unconditionally to the sex scenes, knowing that they were filmed under the watchful eye of an intimate relationship coach, with the utmost sensitivity to the actors.
Knowing that between these heaving bodies was a half-inflated netball used to enforce proper distance meant that part of my mind didn’t wonder if the actress felt uncomfortable. Instead, I could just enjoy it.
Another key element that makes sex at the Bridgerton so appealing to women is the way the tension between Daphne and Simon has built.
Julia Quinn, author of the novels on which the series is based, says, “The difference is that you see it from a woman’s point of view and not a man’s point of view.” Pictured is Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dynevor) and her husband Simon, Duke of Hastings (Rare Jean Page).
A fleeting touch of hands in the third episode, their first passionate kiss in the fourth episode… by the time they ended their relationship in the fifth episode, I already had heartburn.
Whereas in the dramas of the romantic period of the past (think of Colin Firth in Pride and Prejudice) there was not even a handshake.
The glory of Bridgerton was that we had a brooding, complex hero – and we saw his bottom.
this is where I think Bridgerton made a big mistake with their new, comparatively genderless series.
The film adaptations of Jane Austen are incomparable works of art, created with the utmost care and historical accuracy.
Meanwhile, Bridgerton is based on a series of lightweight 21st-century romance novels filled with hilarious anachronisms.
I’m afraid that its creators, since they solemnly state that “we never did a sex scene for the sake of a sex scene, and I don’t think we ever will,” confused their popular success with artistic merit.
What they need to understand is that this is a good-hearted Regency romp. And you can’t have a romp without some weird fun.