'Bridgerton' review: A bachelor, a 'diamond' and a gem of a season

WHAT IT'S ABOUT Regency-era London's "ton" — short for "le bon ton," or high society — is all astir because Queen Charlotte (Golda Rosheuvel) is about to name a new "diamond." But who?

A "diamond" is a young lady of the court so-named because the queen has determined that she alone is now in a position to marry London's most eligible bachelor. This season, that would be Anthony, Viscount Bridgerton (Jonathan Bailey), the eldest of the Bridgerton children. Something of a rake, Anthony has to grow up fast because he doesn't have much of a choice in the matter either. After some careful and self-interested guidance by Lady Danbury (Adjoa Andoh), doyenne of the court, the queen settles on Edwina Sharma (Charithra Chandran), a fresh arrival from India along with her mother and sister, Kate (Simone Ashley). Anthony quickly agrees to the match with Edwina, but when Kate overhears him in private conversation at the debutante ball — he has no interest in a marriage based on love — she tries to break it off.

Meanwhile, in another court intrigue, the queen redoubles her efforts to locate the identity of Lady Whistledown, anonymous author of a scandal sheet that loves nothing better than ridiculing the queen. Eloise Bridgerton (Claudia Jessie), one of Anthony's younger sisters, also wants to find Whistledown — unaware that she's her best friend Penelope "Pen" Featherington (Nicola Coughlan).

MY SAY "Bridgerton" didn't become one of pop culture's hottest phenoms last year just by appearing in the middle of the pandemic like some oasis in the middle of a desert, or a honey pot amid a swarm of bees (bees, as a matter of fact, will have a starring role this second season). There was so much more to this breakout success than flawless timing.

Foremost this: As a racially integrated period drama in which anyone of any race could join the "ton" — the queen's blessing permitted — "Bridgerton '' became TV's first alt-history untethered to real history. Its love-conquers-all spirit also seemed outwardly directed, to a bitterly divided real world circa December 2020. This was fantasy, but fantasy on a mission and fantasy with a message. If love is blind, then why not race, too?

Next, Regé-Jean Page — Simon Arthur Henry Fitzranulph Basset, 10th Duke of Hastings — who became a TV superstar in what seemed like a matter of minutes and who shortly after the first season launch said he would not be returning for the second. (He's currently in the sweepstakes to become the next 007.)

So, with lockdown over and Page gone, what now for Netflix's most important series and one of the world's most popular shows? Simple: It's back to basics and back to the formula. Back to those beloved characters and back to old rivalries, especially back to those sumptuous sets, and spectacular period costumes.

In fact, without actually going backward, "Bridgerton's" second has still mostly just inverted the first season's narrative hook. Instead of a bachelor who refuses to get married (Simon), the second is all about the bachelor who must. Anthony has lost the sideburns and the chip on his shoulder, or one of them anyway. Older if not quite wiser, he's resigned himself to a loveless match, in deference to honor and family.

Like Anthony, Kathani "Kate" Sharma is bound to duty, honor, family and — once her younger sister is betrothed — to a future back in India as a governess.

It's left to (who else?) Lady Whistledown to articulate the folly of their fixed mutual positions: "What happens when duty is in conflict with the heart's desire?"

What happens is some of the most amped sexual and romantic tension you'll get anywhere on TV this year. As Kate and Anthony warily circle one another, they spar and snipe. They declare their eternal hatred for one another, then reaffirm that a scene or episode later.

But their eyes and (of course) hearts soon tell a different story. Circumstances — invariably awkward ones — occasionally draw each of them into close proximity, where they (and you) can hear the beating of their hearts. Typically someone walks in on them, and the spell is broken.

A tenet of romantic fiction going back to at least "Pride & Prejudice" establishes that such rivals must eventually fall into each other's arms. Just as Darcy and Elizabeth once did in that classic novel, so must Kate and Anthony here. That's not a spoiler: It's pretty much the law.

But it's also the magic of "Bridgerton," and especially the magic of this second season. Unashamedly romantic, the second succeeds just as the first did, and ends just as it did, too — reaffirming that oldest and most powerful of human emotions by reminding its protagonists that the heart knows what the mind cannot. Maybe fans (last count, around 100 million in 190 countries) could use that reaffirmation right now, too.

Sure, we've seen and read this all before. But with some vivid performances — Bailey and Ashley's, to name just two — and some razor-sharp production elements, "Bridgerton'' has a way of making it all feel brand-new.

BOTTOM LINE Still beautiful, still fun and still excellent.