Angela Mollard: Sexy Bridgerton exactly the bonkbuster we need

Not since Colin Firth removed his shirt in Pride And Prejudice has a period drama, Bridgerton, got us so hot under the collar, Angela Mollard writes.

Hands down (and “down” is where they’re likely to end up), the best thing about Bridgerton is the sex.

Not since Colin Firth removed his shirt in Pride And Prejudice has a period drama got us so hot under the collar or, indeed, under our shorts.

Detractors may be tutting that the mix of bottoms and bonnets in the glorious hyper-hued Netflix series is not in keeping with the genre but it’s the gift that keeps on giving to those forced into a summer of self-isolation.

From the first few minutes when we’re treated to a tryst up against a tree to a three-minute montage which includes sex in a library, in a folly, in the rain, on a stone patio and against a statue — all set to an orchestral version of Taylor Swift’s Wildest Dreams — Bridgerton brings “phwoar” to the repressed Regency-era drama.

And, my goodness, it is sexy.

Unlike my colleague, period drama purist Kerry Parnell, who revealed in The Saturday Telegraph that she has shunned the series because she doesn’t like bonking interfering with all those empire-line bodices, I can’t get enough of the delicious Austen-powered soft porn. And, mostly, because the women are actually enjoying it.

A raunchy scene from Netflix series Bridgerton. Picture: Netflix

Bridgerton isn’t simply titillation. Rather, in the same way it plays with the conventions of race, status and class, female pleasure is the driving force, not an afterthought.

After the usual “true-love-never-did-run-smooth” shenanigans between the two central characters, Daphne Bridgerton and the Duke of Hastings, the consummation of their marriage is less a deflowering and more a breathy, bosom-heaving blossoming.

Of course, there are the obligatory “hot bloke” shots showing the Duke’s not unpleasant rig and prompting millions of Google searches for “who plays Simon in Bridgerton?”. But it is Daphne’s delight not just in the conjugal act but the pleasure and power it gives which makes Bridgerton perfect viewing for a Gossip Girl generation.

Teens may cringe if they watch it with their parents — mine do — but if you’re going to press period drama on the classics-deprived demographic then you need to offer more than corsets and stolen glances.

In ripping off the breeches and the bodices, Shonda Rimes’s (Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal) macaron-toned Bridgerton doesn’t simply inject some mutuality into the 18th century, she writes an instruction manual for 21st century girls.

From the Duke’s suggestion to his fiancee that she tries masturbating to her receiving oral sex on the stairs, sex is positioned as something joyous, liberating and empowering. Indeed, one scene where a suitor whispers to his lover, “Do you like this? Tell me what you want”, would be a welcome addition to sex education classes in schools.

Some will sneer that, in the hands of the Americans, period drama has been ruined; that it is not the real deal if Emma Thompson is not spouting Thackeray or Austen in her dulcet tones and the English countryside and its historical houses are not the real drawcard.

Bollocks. It’s about time the classics were injected with a bit of the Lady Chatterley’s Lover-vibe. If Shakespeare messed around with gender by casting men in the roles of women, then surely we can suspend disbelief to allow an 18th-century bride to have an orgasm.

Austen tragics need to get over themselves; Bridgerton is exactly the bonkbuster we need.