Bridgerton has never met a romance trope it didn’t love.
Season 1 introduced us to the fake relationship-turned-true love of Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dynevor) and Simon Hastings (Regé-Jean Page). Season 2‘s Anthony Bridgerton (Jonathan Bailey) and Kate Sharma (Simone Ashley) ushered in Bridgerton‘s swoon-worthy take on enemies-to-lovers, and Season 3 paid off Penelope Featherington (Nicola Coughlan) and Colin Bridgerton’s (Luke Newton) slow burn friends-to-lovers arc.
Now in Season 4, Bridgerton turns to another timeless romance trope: that of the Cinderella story. And the results, like any good fairy tale love story, will sweep you off your feet.
What’s Bridgerton Season 4 about?
Yerin Ha and Luke Thompson in “Bridgerton.”
Credit: Liam Daniel / Netflix
Playing the role of Bridgerton Season 4’s Prince Charming is none other than Benedict Bridgerton (Luke Thompson). The family’s second son and eternal rake spent the first three seasons pursuing an art career, exploring his queerness, and just mostly having a fun, if irresponsible, time about town. In Season 4, he steps into the spotlight, albeit through no desire of his own. Bridgerton matriarch Lady Violet (Ruth Gemmell) is tired of her son’s carousing and demands that he set his sights on marriage. Just like that, Benedict is on the market — and he’s Queen Charlotte’s (Golda Rosheuvel) favorite prospect.
So who is our Cinderella to Benedict’s Prince Charming? Newcomer Sophie Baek (Yerin Ha), the servant to widow Lady Araminta Penwood (Katie Leung) and her two daughters.
Having one half of a Bridgerton couple be a servant immediately injects the show with new energy. Throughout the series, we’ve primarily seen the “upstairs” of the Bridgerton household. That all changes in Season 4’s first moments, which bring us “downstairs,” where all manner of servants toil away to make sure the Bridgertons’ teas and balls go off without a hitch. We see them fashioning showstopping desserts, debating dance card logistics, and even gossiping about the Bridgerton family while waiting on them. The Downton Abbey-esque move offers up a much-needed new perspective on the ton, one where we see the work that goes into maintaining its lush fantasy. It also prepares the audience to see the world through Sophie’s eyes.
Sophie Baek and Benedict Bridgerton have impeccable chemistry.
Yerin Ha and Luke Thompson in “Bridgerton.”
Credit: Liam Daniel / Netflix
When you first meet Sophie, you won’t know right away that she’s a servant. That’s because she’s at the Bridgertons’ lavish masquerade ball to open the season. Hidden behind a silver mask and matching gown, she could be anyone. Yet even a disguise can’t hide Sophie’s wonder at the spectacle of the ball, an appreciation that endears her immediately to Benedict, who’s already tired of the advances of young women clamoring for marriage. It’s not long before sparks fly between the two as they share a private dance lesson full of witty repartee, longing glances, and sensuous glove touches. Gentle reader, I was kicking my feet so much during this scene, you might be fooled into thinking I was a soccer player.
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Of course, like all good Cinderella stories go, the clock must strike midnight, and the mysterious princess must run back to her humble beginnings, but not before leaving behind a token of sorts. Don’t fret: Benedict and Sophie will cross paths again. This time there are no masks between them, yet this makes their blooming romance all the more difficult. Benedict cannot marry a woman below his social class, nor can he fully forget the Lady in Silver he fell for at the ball. So begins what feels like a love triangle between two people: Benedict, Sophie, and Sophie’s alter ego.
The hidden identities of it all risks becoming infuriating. (How many times did I yell, “Just tell him!” at Sophie? Too many to count!) Yet Ha and Thompson’s performances manage to sell even the most ridiculous plot contrivances.
Let’s start with Benedict’s seeming inability to recognize a woman’s voice or face. What could be sheer stupidity transforms into daffy unawareness thanks to Thompson’s affable turn as a (mostly) oblivious noble man. Sorry to the Benedict haters, but for all his faults, the man is impossibly charming, and a damn delightful romantic lead.
Where Benedict is charming and free-spirited, treating the world as an adventure, Sophie is cautious. As a servant to a cruel family, she can’t afford to take anything for granted, and Ha carries the weight of that harsh reality in every scene. Yet when she and Benedict cross paths, she lights up, and he learns to listen better — even empathizing with the young débutantes he used to scorn. People use the phrase “they complete each other” often in romances, and here, it’s triply true. Sophie brings Benedict some much-needed seriousness, while he brings her some much-needed joy, and what follows is a potent cocktail of sweet banter and quiet yearning.
Bridgerton still suffers from too many side plots.
Golda Rosheuvel and Hugh Sachs in “Bridgerton.”
Credit: Liam Daniel / Netflix
Bridgerton Season 4 is blessed with an enchanting central couple and two luminous lead performances. So why does it keep cutting away from them?
Bridgerton‘s glut of subplots isn’t a new problem, although it became exceptionally glaring in Season 3, when it robbed us of further development of Penelope and Colin’s relationship. That issue persists in Season 4, with Bridgerton overstuffing its episodes fit to bursting.
Some of these subplots work well. Everything Leung does as Lady Araminta is delightfully sinister, and Violet’s tentative courtship with Marcus Anderson (Daniel Francis) is a moving examination of finding love long after the loss of a partner. Others, on the other hand, are less successful. A growing rift between Queen Charlotte and Lady Danbury (Adjoa Andoh) nicely complicates one of the show’s longest standing relationships, but it’s not long before it feels like Bridgerton is spinning its wheels with these two. The same goes for Francesca’s (Hannah Dodd) sexual dissatisfaction with her husband, Lord John Stirling (Victor Alli). While the story leads to some funny, then downright sweet moments, it also suffers from being a relationship caught in the shadow of Sophie and Benedict’s. To paraphrase The Simpsons, whenever Sophie and Benedict aren’t on screen, everyone should be asking, where are Sophie and Benedict?
Contrast Bridgerton‘s desire to heavily populate its world beyond its lead romance with the hottest show right now, Heated Rivalry. (Spoiler alert: Both shows involve key trips to a “cottage” that is actually a big-ass house.) That series succeeds thanks to its tight focus on its central couple, to the point that the rest of the world fades away to give them more space. In Bridgerton, the rest of the world is often overbearing. Not in a “These societal expectations are crushing us!” kind of way, but more in a “Wait, we’re leaving Benedict and Sophie behind again?” kind of way.
Thankfully, the power of Sophie and Benedict remains strong enough to fuel the first half of Bridgerton‘s otherwise captivating Season 4. As Cinderella stories go, it’s downright enchanting.
Bridgerton Season 4, Part 1 is now streaming on Netflix. Part 2 premieres Feb. 26.
