I have A LOT of problems with Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story – here’s everything wrong with the Netflix spin-off

DEAREST gentle reader, I was initially struck with immense excitement when I learned that my favourite franchise had bagged a spin-off series.

Indeed, I am utterly unapologetic about the fact that I am a fully-fledged superfan of the fictional Ton society.

I have read all nine stories of the Bridgerton family, am two books into the Bevelstoke series, the family prequels are already on the bookcase and I have Julia Quinn and Shonda Rhimes’ new Queen Charlotte book on the way.

It is safe to say that as a Bridgerton obsessive, I desperately wanted the new limited series to succeed, but I fear it has fallen flat. The question is, why?

Firstly, the ‘social experiment’ aspect of the series has brought some problems with it. 

I think we can all agree that Bridgerton was pioneering with its colourblind casting, presenting a fictional society where ethnicity was all but irrelevant. 

While the Ton depicted in the series is of course inspired by real life Regency-era society, it is ultimately fictional.

After all, the original books and subsequent series are not meant to be consumed like documentaries – they’re glossy, sexual, tantalising romance fiction, and all the more fun for it.

What’s more, we got the sense that actors were cast irrespective of their skin colour, with show bosses simply choosing the best actors for the roles.

I think we can all agree after seeing his performance that Rege-Jean Page was the perfect actor to play The Duke of Hastings. 

But what we saw in Queen Charlotte was a laser focus on a segregated society that felt, at moments, inflammatory. 

The disclaimer at the beginning of the series stresses that the show is completely fictional and not meant to be a retelling of history. 

This makes total sense considering that the show feels, if anything, incredibly contemporary.

Much of the storyline seems concocted to mirror modern day attitudes in the wake of the Black Lives Matter protests, but I think the show was already pioneering, without such an explicit approach.

Studios need more diversity in front of and behind the camera and while myself, coming from a minority background will welcome any advancements, the emphasis on identity politics throughout the show minimises the impact that a project like Bridgerton had in the first place.

It’s not all bad though – the LGBTQ+ story was very well done. One major criticism that fans of the main series had was of alleged “queer baiting”, especially when it came to the character of Benedict Bridgerton (played by Luke Thompson) exploring his artistic side.

In the books Benedict is completely straight – his story is fantastic by the way – and it felt like show bosses were toying with shoehorning representation into the original series, before realising it could take away from the integrity of the books and cause plot holes later on. 

Meanwhile Queen Charlotte featured LGBTQ+ characters that truly felt authentic to the story.

Unfortunately their purpose and storyline seemed constrained by the fact they served as footmen to the monarchs of the time, so I’m not surprised fans were underwhelmed compared to the grandeur of the royals’ goings on.

I love Lady Danbury. She is one of my favourite characters in the original novels. The point of her though, is to serve as a Dowager who provides commentary of the affairs of the Ton. 

She’s a busy body, acid-tongued and 99% of her conversations end in some kind of sly quip.

However, the scenes that showed her behaving in such a submissive way to an older man that she doesn’t even have feelings for made her look weak. 

Yes, one could argue that the character became cynical over time as the years went on and her age and perspective progressed. However, the depiction undoubtedly took away the essence of who she is and what she stood for. 

In the books she is THE matriarch of the Ton. But what we see here, is Lady D on shaky social ground, not pulling the strings at the very heart of society, as portrayed in the original books.

Let’s also talk about the cameo of nineties superstar Lemar. Fans went absolutely wild when he briefly appeared as Lord Symthe-Smith. 

I think back to his tracks and I think we can all agree he is an incredibly talented musician.

Unfortunately the same cannot be said for the Symthe-Smith family – indeed, in the book it is a running joke that their annual musicale is an event at which members of the Ton would try to plug their ears.

In a quote from the second book of the Bevelstoke series, What Happens In London, Julia Quinn wrote: “No one in their right mind would attend the Smythe-Smith musicale uninvited. It was, in the most delicate of descriptions, an assault on the senses. One of the senses, anyway. It was probably a good night to be deaf.” 

As such, casting a popular musician as Lord Smythe-Smith seems a wasted opportunity and one that would probably go over casual viewers’ heads.

Finally, at its core Bridgerton is about a family – one that may appear slightly dysfunctional with all the different and conflicting personalities, but at its heart is full of privilege, charm and levity.

They have endured loss but they also find strength in each other. We love to see the siblings squabble, like when Benedict teases Eloise for smoking, Hayacinth’s swipes or even Colin’s innuendos about fencing. The books depict a similarly amusing and light-hearted family dynamic. 

The tone is also not limited to the Bridgerton family – the Featheringtons never fail to make us laugh with all of their misguided pomp. 

Unfortunately in Queen Charlotte we lose this charm given the heavy subject matter – including severe mental illness and physical abuse at the hands of a cruel doctor. 

We see Queen Charlotte arguing against her family and turning her back on their emotional needs to meet the requirements of royal life and this story felt so much darker in tone, at times almost too dark, and with no levity on humour to break it up. 

Bridgerton is known for its steamy sex scenes, extravagant scenery and costumes, and classical covers of contemporary music tracks. But it’s also known for its likable characters, sense of fun, and razor-sharp wit, which were missing from Queen Charlotte.

I understand the desire for a Bridgerton spin-off – after all, it was the most watched series of all time when it dropped on Netflix and of course bosses would want to capitalise on this. But instead of choosing one of Julia Quinn’s already beautifully crafted stories, Shonda Rhimes made a show that was, frankly, hard to watch. 

Just like how the Ton keeps reading Lady Whilstedown, I shall continue to watch Bridgerton – but I’m hoping for a decidedly more upbeat season three.