The world of Bridgerton is expanding, resulting in its best season yet.
Bridgerton’s fourth season is a Cinderella story. Quite literally, for the most part. Taking many of its narrative cues from the famous fairytale, it frames the central romance as a case of mistaken identity and cross-class longing. There’s a masquerade ball, a forgotten accessory, an evil stepmother, and a quick escape as midnight strikes. But despite its occasionally magical feel, its story is one based in the larger concerns of the everyday, and the very real restrictions that govern life in the ‘ton. Because, while Benedict Bridgerton (Luke Thompson) may finally understand what it is to be in love for real, even he cannot rewrite society’s rules. (Until he can. Sort of. It’s a fairytale, after all.)
It’s ironic, perhaps, that Bridgerton’s most fantastical romance yet—a nobleman in love with a maid!—should turn out to be its most grounded and realistic love story. Part of the reason for that is that season four purposefully leans into the class-based elements of the tale it’s telling, taking tentative but still valuable steps toward confronting some of the most uncomfortable elements of its own premise. But it also feels as though the show itself is finally growing up. In many ways, such a shift has always been inevitable, as an increasing number of its main characters trade the intrigues and scandals of the marriage mart for spouses, children, and other adult obligations.
Bridgerton may have initially burst onto our screens in a flurry of steamy sex, but its increasingly ensemble-based focus has helped it evolve into something altogether different. And nowhere is that more apparent than in season four, which certainly features its fair share of sex, but is also much more grounded and emotionally complex than what has come before. These episodes force almost everyone to confront new and occasionally uncomfortable pieces of themselves. Characters experience real loss, make difficult choices, learn from previous mistakes, and adapt their behavior accordingly. It’s a shift that is deeply satisfying to watch in a way the show has never really been before.
The season’s second volume picks up where the first left off, exploring new ideas of love and commitment, new relationships, and the limits of social boundaries. Following a stairwell-based fit of passion, Benedict has asked maid Sophie Baek (Yerin Ha) to be his mistress. She refuses, but as the two continually find themselves in one another’s orbit afterward, they must navigate both their obvious feelings for one another and the barriers that prevent them from being together more legitimately. To its credit, season four handles this frequently uncomfortable and difficult subplot with surprising grace—and much more ably than the book upon which it is based, if we’re being honest.
Yes, Benedict still asks Sophie to be his mistress, but the event is reframed as a desperate gambit for happiness rather than an act of sexual coercion. Benedict is perfectly aware of how much what he’s asking her to do sucks, but he simply can’t conceive of another option that allows the two of them to be together. He is, after all, a Bridgerton with an overbearing mother who’s been raised on society’s expectations like everyone else. The television adaptation deftly smooths over many of the most uncomfortable elements in their book relationship by making Benedict so openly and determinedly smitten. The show takes his desire to be with Sophie seriously, ultimately framing his behavior as a desperate search for a solution they can both live with, rather than a power play. But more importantly, he acknowledges his problematic behavior! He tries to see things from her perspective! He genuinely considers the imbalance in what he is asking her to do and promises to meet her in the middle. It’s so satisfying to witness, particularly when compared to so many of their interactions in the novel. This truly feels like the version of Benedict that Sophie has always deserved.
A big reason for that is Thompson’s performance. If the first half of season four belonged to Yerin Ha, its final four episodes are his. Benedict displays real growth throughout these installments. He’s more vulnerable than we’ve ever seen him, less self-centered, and willing to challenge his own preconceived notions about who he is and the kind of life he wants to lead. He’s more openly considerate of the needs of others, from Sophie to his sisters to his mother, and he consistently shows up for all of them, in a way we’ve never really gotten the chance to see before. It’s lovely and layered, and Thompson makes it all look positively effortless. He’s really taken his leading man era and run with it, and it’s delightful.
Ha remains incredibly charming, and Sophie’s role in Bridgerton House allows her to display some excellent chemistry with the rest of the series’ leads, who will soon be her in-laws, particularly Ruth Gemmell, who plays Violet. But the season is at its strongest when it’s stressing the interconnectedness of all the stories and relationships at its center. The endless affection between the sprawling Bridgerton clan, particularly the ways both the married and unmarried siblings’ lives still weave around and through one another’s, is delightful and provides some of this batch of episodes’ strongest emotional moments. The long-awaited return of Anthony (Jonathan Bailey) and Kate (Simone Ashley) not only gives us some adorable moments with their infant son but also provides Benedict with a much-needed sounding board in his elder brother. Eloise (Claudia Jessie) getting stuck overseeing her younger sister Hyacinth’s (Florence Hunt) recital may be annoying for her, but it also recontextualizes some of her own feelings about the marriage mart (and features an unexpected run-in with an old friend). Even Penelope (Nicola Coughlan), whose arc still revolves primarily around her role as Lady Whistledown, gets to establish herself within the larger world of the family.
It’s obvious throughout how much effort the show is putting into laying groundwork for future seasons, adding in the sort of emotional moments and character beats that likely won’t truly pay off for another season or two. But it’s a big reason that season four feels so rich and lived-in; it recognizes that everyone’s love story is important, but that they also exist as part of a larger canvas, a stitch in a tapestry of the lives of those they care about. It’s what gives so many small moments throughout these episodes such power, whether they’re grounded in grief, laughter or simple joy. It’s also why the very obvious absence of the OG Bridgerton couple, Simon and Daphne, feels so particularly glaring this time around. Outside the show, we all know why neither Phoebe Dynevor nor Rege-Jean Page is around. (Though the Duke of Hastings does get a surprisingly awesome shoutout towards the end of the season.) But in the world of the ‘ton, and in this particular presentation of the Bridgerton family, the hole they’ve left behind certainly isn’t getting any smaller.
If there’s a real complaint to be had, it’s that the back half of season four drops some of the most interesting class-conscious elements the first four episodes embraced. Sure, plenty of servants are still around and involved in the larger plot, but for the most part, they’re there as emotional support for Sophie or straight-up plot devices. The Maid Wars are over, and, for all intents and purposes, we’re back to a status quo that feels even more depressing now that we’ve had a glimpse at the perspectives outside of it. It also doesn’t help that the season’s ending requires the sort of collective suspension of disbelief—both from those watching at home and those within the world of the show—that could only happen in the sort of fairytale that this story takes its initial inspiration from.
It’s not a spoiler to say that it all turns out all right in the end. (Bridgerton is a romance, and a happy ever after is a requirement.) But the convoluted schemes that must be deployed in service of that goal are a bit jarring after a run of episodes that’s felt so much more grounded than the series has ever been. It turns out there are still lines the show won’t cross, no matter how much it seems as if it would like to. Still, Bridgerton season four may well be the series’s strongest yet. It’s certainly the most balanced, both in terms of its central romance and its supporting plots, and that promises great things ahead for the rest of the family as the show continues.