With Bridgerton returning for Part Two on February 26th, I wanted to take a moment to highlight my favorite aspect of the new season: the class consciousness that this season’s Cinderella story brings. The new episodes follow the love story of the second-eldest Bridgerton sibling, Benedict (Luke Thompson) and maid Sophie Baek (Yerin Ha). While Bridgerton has never ignored the issue of class divisions, none of its previous seasons have placed the staff in the spotlight the way this season has. In this author’s opinion, the show is all the better for it.
Before this season, our glimpses into the other side of society were brief. Varley, the Featherington housekeeper, is a standout recurring character, though always secondary. Alice Mondrich and her husband, Will Mondrich, were working class, but even they were quickly elevated to high society due to an unexpected inheritance.
Now? From the start, this season shifts our perspective. Down the stairs of Bridgerton house we go, into the hustle and bustle of the kitchen. Bells ring. Knives press rhythmically against cutting boards. Dough is rolled out and baked. Even the camera is handheld, making it clear that this is where the real work behind the glamour of society life is done.
The staff make side comments throughout scenes and trade meaningful looks. They remind us: Lady Whistledown may distribute the Ton’s secrets, but the household staff are the people who keep them. Putting them into focus, these people so easily ignored by society, perfectly sets the stage for our main heroine and gives depth to the show’s relationships in a fresh way.
Much of the conflict this season also has to do with one particular side plot, “The Maid Wars,” in which Sophie’s stepmother, Lady Penwood, unleashes havoc on the Ton due to her repeated poaching of maids. This shakes up high society, as for the first time, they are forced to consider whether their staff is actually happy. Varley, for instance, is not satisfied, something that will be expanded on in the season’s second half.
The downstairs perspective not only gives us new side plots to enjoy (I myself am partial to the Bridgertons’ footman John and his very obvious crush on the new maid, Hazel) but also sets the stage and the very real stakes for Sophie and Benedict’s romance.
Sophie, though raised alongside noble women, is not one. She is an earl’s illegitimate daughter and has been working as a maid to her stepmother and stepsisters ever since her father’s death. However well-educated she may be – something that repeatedly surprises the Bridgerton family – Eloise and Hyacinth are taken by her knowledge of books, while she and Benedict have a playful exchange about her fluency in several languages – she is not of noble blood and therefore is not a viable match for Benedict.
This drives a wedge in the passionate, fantastical love stories audiences have come to expect from Bridgerton, but also, in many ways, deepens their story.
If Benedict were to marry Sophie, it would be a morganatic marriage. What does this mean? Essentially, Sophie would be the subject of public rancor, and Benedict would lose all his societal privileges; that means no more gentlemen’s clubs, dinner invites and all the things that he comfortably enjoys. For his family, particularly his yet unmarried sisters, it would be similarly ruinous. We saw in Season Two the Ton’s unwillingness to overlook a scandal with the aftermath of Anthony’s failed wedding.
More morbidly, if and when Benedict dies, Sophie and her children would have no legal claim to his title or estate.
Their match, simply put, would be ruinous for not only the two lovers but for everyone they care about.
Unlike previous seasons, whatever decision these two leads make will permanently alter their lives as they know them. In my opinion, this raising of the stakes makes for a far more interesting love story, and a stronger show as a whole.
Sophie and her peers having a voice this season lends itself to making the show feel more rooted in reality. Sweet family moments are underscored by the reminder that someone will have to clean up after them. Sophie gets to call out Benedict’s disdain for the women pursuing him: to them, she reminds him, the marriage mart is survival, and takes a lot of work to maintain.
It’s a refreshing acknowledgement of these women’s struggles, calling out both Benedict and the audience for brushing off or laughing at the Ton’s debutantes. At the same time, it characterizes Sophie as a deeply compassionate person.
This level of realism is exactly what the show has been missing.
Sure, not everything needs to be realistic in a show like Bridgerton—I can certainly appreciate the campiness of bodice-ripping, carriage-rocking scenes set to orchestral renditions of Pitbull (shoutout 305!)—but any good period drama needs to be grounded in some reality for the fantastical, swoonworthy moments to really shine.
It seems, blissfully, that Bridgerton has finally caught on to this fact. For the first time, I am truly on the edge of my seat. No matter what the future holds for Benedict and Sophie, this author is excited to watch it unfold.