Been There, Done That: Why Bridgerton Wasn’t It For Me.
The problem with insincere representation and colorist politics.
TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of Rape, White Supremacy, and Fetishization.
Throughout the history of cinema, the white woman-centered historical drama trope has always relied on these four factors: nepotist power, hierarchical prestige, white privilege, and the main white woman character dealing with an “agonizing” dilemma. Upon those principles, it comes as no surprise that there is still an appetite for these narratives when looking at the worldwide explosion of Bridgerton. While many have ranted and raved about the show’s intimate scenes and its seemingly groundbreaking representation, I will be discussing a different approach. The series takes place in the Regency era of England and profiles a white upper-class family, known as the Bridgertons; specifically Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dyevor), who has reached the age for marriage. Produced by Netflix along with showrunners Shonda Rhimes (How To Get Away With Murder, Scandal, Grey’s Anatomy) and Chris Van Dusen, this show intends to present a progressive and inclusive society centered on love and drama, yet there are deeply problematic tropes within this series, which erode what it is attempting to communicate.
One of the problematic tropes present is the use of Black characters to create a post-racial society, while also exploiting those characters for fetishization. The Black Duke Simon Basset (Rege-Jean Page) is well-respected among his peers and colleagues in an established English society, despite the women who blush in his presence. The series sets up his character to be “respectable,” but when he and Daphne form a slow, unlikely allyship and fall in love, the bombardment of intimate scenes are reminiscent of the fetishization of Black men by white women; a historical trope rooted in white supremacy, tokenism, and the hypersexualization of Black folks. Bridgerton is known for its steamy takes, but one alarming scene in Episode 6 (Swish) was not handled correctly, whatsoever. Towards the end of the series, after Daphne discovers that Simon was not honest with her about his approach towards intimacy and marriage, Daphne positions herself on top of him and engages in sexual activity without his consent.
Through the uncomfortable and traumatic scene, the audience can tell that Simon figures out what she’s doing and wants her to stop, yet she continues. Following this, she ironically talks about the difference between “won’t” and “can’t,” amidst being upset with him about lying. This entire scene not only disrespects sexual assault victims and survivors, as no trigger warning is included, but there is also the misrepresentation of Daphne as the victim despite her perpetuating harm. Let it be known that the relationship between Daphne and Simon, from my perspective, is transactional. What she wants is a family and while there are imperfections on both parts in regard to their relationship, this scene demonstrated how Daphne weaponized her white privilege in order to get what she wanted. Netflix has yet to issue a trigger warning for Episode Six.
Furthermore, when examining Bridgerton as a whole, Black characters are treated like background subjects to fill a shot; especially Dark-Skinned Black characters, who mostly remain silent and if they do have a speaking role it is inconceivably short. What Bridgerton communicates about desirability is based on colorism. Colorism is a facet of white supremacy and discrimination based off of skin color and complexion, which is tailored to racism and as well as other oppressive facets. Simon and Marina (Ruby Baker) are grotesquely lusted after and built up through a sexual lens rather than through their character or humanity. Hollywood has a history of portraying Blackness through a singular lens, shutting out Dark-Skinned Black folks as they are believed to be “less-than,” not “marketable,” or not “desirable.”
The harm within Bridgerton is the lack of acknowledgement about the ways race and racism have impacted the characters’ journeys. The problem with this series positioning itself as post-racial is centered on the practices of colorblidness (not seeing race), a willful ignorance towards class consciousness, and a fake-woke storytelling aspect built on complacency and the neoliberal utopia of everyone being “equal.” While the Black experience is not monolithic, it is important to note that having under-developed representation in conjunction with fetishization and weaponization only seeks to erase and dismiss the real narratives of being Black during those times, as well as society’s attitudes towards Black people across the diaspora. No matter how many Black characters are draped in historical attire or wearing white wigs, the erasure of their identity and treating those situations under the guise of normality has an overtly false-optimistic feel. From my perspective, acknowledging the truth of the past and the present while demonstrating that Black people are more than just our trauma would allow such aspects to co-exist. Bridgerton accomplished none of this.
Therefore, what is the need for yet another white-woman centered historical drama? We have seen this trope played over and over again through films such as Little Women, The Beguiled, Marie Antoinette, and Pride and Prejudice. While those perspectives are a part of history in some fashion, these films center their white-female characters as if during those respective time periods they were facing the most-pressing situations; meanwhile, during their middle and upper class privileged lives, catastrophic events including the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade, the Civil War, and various imperalist and colonizing ventures took place and were devastating with immeasurable impacts on Black and marginalized communities, worldwide. As Hollywood, the media, and privileged sectors of the public still yearn for these stories, which have been told unbearably, there should be a conversation about how they solely represent and promote the narrative of white women as the most oppressed, while injustice and dehumanization occur in the backdrop (or not at all) of the general storytelling canvas.
Here’s the thing. We need to invest in Black stories. We need to center, uplift, pay, and amplify Black directors and creatives who are going about this work in their own unapologetic way. Personally, I feel that no one can tell our stories better than us. While some may be under the impression that Hollywood has improved, let us not forget that the Hollywood Foreign Press Association (HFPA) had no Black members (as of late) out of their 87-member roster, as relayed by the LA Times. However, we must also stop believing that these issues start in the awarding sector. Bridgerton is a prime example of how development, pre-production, and principal photography are crucial to storytelling. Yet, in their case, it was used in a tone-deaf manner.
According to an interview with Radio Times, creator Chris Van Dusen declared, “We were not interested in providing a history lesson – these people didn’t exist.” He went on to state, “I was interested in exploring the intersection between history and fantasy. We wanted to turn up the volume on the costumes and the lack of bonnets speaks to the modernity of the world we have created.” Based on this interview, it is clear the direction taken with this show. To simply view the inclusion of diverse and Black characters as “history lessons” his commentaries not only dismiss those experiences but also exposes the privilege of Dusen and his creative power. Simply hiding behind the fabric of your fictional characters not existing does not remove you from the responsibility as a storyteller to be mindful, to research, and to be intersectional when writing a show about interracial love amidst the Regency era in England. I have one even better, should you even be telling this story?
When combining cinematic platforms with the ever-complicated factors of neoliberal politics, it must be clear that a show can have Black people in various sectors, but if the basis of those platforms, as well as the script and the direction, are centered on historically oppressive and violent tropes, this representation is harmful and lacks substance. If you enjoyed Bridgerton, more power to you. From my perspective, folks need to stop awarding Hollywood for doing less than the bare minimum, while still building “progressive” projects out of colorism, fetishization, and other forms of Black erasure. We all need a form of escapism, especially during this time, but there should be a consideration about how those shows are built and what they enforce. Such shows should be rooted in uplifting the humanity of their characters, placing these stories in the appropriate hands of marginalized storytellers, and recognizing that simply slapping “diversity” on a creative endeavor is not a solution.