By now, it is almost impossible for you not to have at least heard of “Bridgerton” in some capacity. In short, this book series turned Netflix adaptation can be described as a combination of Pride and Prejudice and Gossip Girl. You might be thinking: Do we need another time period series to follow for a few seasons only to end up disappointed when your primary ship fails to end up together due to some unforeseen, but completely foreseen, death? I’ll just be honest with you and say this: absolutely yes. Created by Chris Van Dusen and produced by Shonda Rhimes, the show’s release in December 2020 easily labeled itself as Netflix’s ‘biggest series ever.’ In saying all of these things, though, while I absolutely acknowledge that I am indeed obsessed with the show, I can also acknowledge that the representation of characters of color seems very half-done.
Despite the time period of the show’s setting, the 1800s, the cast represents an attempt at being racially diverse. As many of us know, television shows and movies still have a long way to go in battling the war that is colorism, but if there was ever a show that attempted to get its foot in the door in the most dreamy way, it is this one. Historically, roles involving situations of inequality and struggle seemed to have been set aside specifically for Black people to fulfill. Subsequently, Black people have most often been cast in stereotypical roles such as the most often recurring one as “the sassy sidekick” of the white main character. This is clearly an upgrade from when Black characters were not even played by Black people in the early Hollywood days, but still, there is always room for improvement.
“Bridgerton,” though, at least tries to set itself up for success with characters of various races and skin tones playing main characters and people of royalty. The Duke, played by Regé-Jean Page, a Zimbabwe native, offers an unexpected take on high society. In an interview with The Today Show, Page expressed a sort of relief at portraying a Black character as something and someone other than a slave or a thug of some kind. During the same interview, Golda Rosheuvel, Queen Charlotte in the show, discussed how growing up biracial and watching strictly white-cast period films caused her to never consider that she would one day be portraying a queen in one.
All of these sentiments are great, but the follow through for them does leave one wanting. “Bridgerton” experiments with another timeless, but in actuality, completely ephemeral, trope: that love conquers all. Lady Danbury, played by Adjoa Andoh, has a memorable quote mentioning this very sentiment. “Look at everything it is doing for us, allowing us to become,” she says. “We were two separate societies divided by color until a king fell in love with one of us. Love, Your Grace, conquers all.” Sounds great, except this is not actually given another mention in the rest of season one. It appears that it is only the characters of color who bear this awareness of race’s burden, and even then, like I said, it was only mentioned once.
The real struggle between depicting a fantastical story like this one and claiming to create space for characters of color begs the question: How much discussion on the topic is too much and how little is too slight? While I am sure that its creators were not looking to unintentionally throw Black characters back into the prison of being spokespersons and saviors for every other character of the same race, to only mention the topic and make no one else in the show, seemingly, aware of it, is definitely problematic.
In summary, I am looking forward to the next eight seasons that the show has since been renewed for. If the upcoming episodes continue in the same way that they have so far, then I am hopeful that conversations like the one between Lady Danbury and The Duke will present themselves again, but in more thoughtful and developed ways, as Shonda Rhimes is well known for her ability to combine the worlds of couples precisely like Daphne and the Duke.
