I am prepared for what is about to be unleashed among the ardent Kanthony fans, but I seem to be the only one not hot over the romantic leads in season two of Bridgerton, the Regency drama based on Julia Quinn’s romance novels about eight siblings who take turns finding love among heaving bosoms during mating season in London.
Sure, some would say I’m dead inside, but there is zero chemistry between Anthony (Jonathan Bailey) and Kate (Simone Ashley) and all the heavy panting, deep sighing, and close encounter pinky grazes in the world are not going to convince me otherwise.
But my dislike for Kanthony did not stop me from hate-watching the every minute of this season, because like everyone else, I too am under the Shonda Rhimes spell. Every scene is absolutely beautiful, every cast member is unfairly gorgeous, and don’t even get me started on the itty bitty tea time desserts on tiered trays.
I especially loved Lady Featherington this season. No one works harder than she does to secure her children’s future while also hooking up with her husband’s cousin before banishing him back to the Americas for ruining her plans. She got a bad rep last season, but she is absolutely one of my favorites besides Penelope, Queen Charlotte, and Benedict, who is adorable. Please give him a story other than “I hate you but I love you”. I’m just spitballing here, but what if he meets a nice Jewish Persian girl from LA who’s married but it’s not like it’s written in stone or anything?
But despite everything I loved about the show, there’s nothing I enjoy more than being on multiple text chats dragging Edwina for her over-the-top naivete bordering on stupidity, Colin’s unbelievable denseness, and Violet Bridgerton’s unrealistic expectations that all eight of her children will marry for love. (Send in a Persian mom next season and they’ll all be married by the second episode, driving off in black Mercedes horse carriages to their mansions in lower Bel Air. Done and done).
But nothing compares to my love for hating on Anthony and Kate’s ludicrous melodramatic scenes.
I understand that Kate and Anthony are a lot alike. But having first-child martyr complexes and dead daddy issues in common does not a love match make.
Kate repeatedly reminds everyone that her sole purpose in life has been to raise her sister and she herself is happy to die alone as a governess in India. I practically invented this kind of passive aggressiveness and I cannot stand it. Anthony is consumed with all his firstborn son “duties”, “responsibilities,” and familial obligations that keep him busy. But really he’s just banging prostitutes, walking briskly in and out of rooms sighing, and going to a ball every night. In between, he signs some “ledgers”. He’s really not that busy.
My only solace is how perfectly Benedict trolls him every chance he gets. He really gets me.
I’m also really tired of the “I’m not over my dead parent and that’s why I act like this” theme. Boring. My dad died too, but you don’t see me staring longingly at an oil portrait of him wondering if he’d approve of the woman I’ve become. Because honestly he probably wouldn’t and he’s better off not seeing it. Also, maybe don’t bury your dad in the backyard if you don’t want the constant reminder? Did they not have cemeteries in those days? Do you know how many freeways I have to take to get to my dad’s grave 40 minutes away? One too many.
I know I sound very jaded, but I actually love romance.
In fact, I threatened my husband with divorce several times while watching this because not only is he not a viscount, but he doesn’t love or even hate me passionately enough. When was the last time he rode a horse through pouring rain to rescue me? Or panicked when I got stung by a bee? Or made passionate love to me under a gazebo where there happened to be some conveniently placed pillows and blankets? I’m really not asking for much.
To be fair, even though I liked season one much better, there was a lot of hate-watching involved there too. Mainly revolving around Daphne’s atrocious dwarf bangs (which were better in season two, though there’s room for improvement). But I stuck around because I was blinded by Duke Simon Basset’s (Regé-Jean Page) sexy spoon licking and sleeve-rolling-while-staring-past-the-camera-deep-into-our-horny-souls ploy.
I just have high romantic expectations and refuse to have Kanthony’s non existent chemistry shoved down my throat.
The good news is that there are six more Bridgerton kids to marry off, so we have many seasons ahead to make up for Kanthony. And call me a romantic, but maybe they’ll divorce. I’m still rooting for Anthony and Siena the opera singer–Santhony.
