If there is one thing we know about Her Majesty Queen Charlotte, it’s that she makes any room she’s in vastly more interesting. How fortunate, then, that she is the subject of her very own seriesQueen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story, a spin-off of the wildly popularBridgerton. Not content to simply tell the tale of Young Charlotte (India Amarteifio) marrying a Young King George (Corey Mylchreest) and chronicling the early days of their life together, it also follows Older Charlotte (Golda Rosheuvel) as she schemes to get one of her thirteen children happily married and producing children of their own. But how will she succeed in her endeavor? And is marriage really as simple as she makes it out to be?
Apparently not, as the first episode, “Queen to Be” opens with Charlotte discovering her brother Adolphus (Tunji Kasim) signing her marriage contract with representatives from the British Empire. She might be the one getting married, but that doesn’t mean she has any say in the matter — not that that stops her from smashing a statue on her way out of the hall. Nor does it stop her from threatening to impale herself on the corset of the elaborate gown they put her in for her arrival in England. Overdone as the “corsets are uncomfortable” plot point may be, anyone who has ever had to wear shapewear and heels to an event they didn’t want to go to can empathize with her impulse.
Charlotte is brought before the formidable Princess Augusta (Michelle Fairley) and her councilors, and subjected to a rather dehumanizing inspection before being informed that the Parisian wedding gown she brought will not be needed, as they have a simpler, traditional,Englishgown for her to wear. Her pointed insistence that Charlotte fall in line feels loaded, especially since the exchange immediately follows Augusta’s attempt to see if the color of Charlotte’s skin comes off if she rubs at it. While it’s an effective way to show she is at best ignorant and at worst racist, it’s also an odd choice given that later on we see that she has met other Black people before and presumably knows skin color doesn’t wash off.
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With Charlotte gone for her fitting, Augusta launches into full PR mode, weighing the optics of the King marrying a woman who is “very brown.” When the Lords tell her that it’s too late to undo things and that the agreements are already signed, she changes tactics immediately and declares that any action the king takes is not a problem. Seems like she’s setting herself up for trouble with that statement, but for now she declares the wedding shall go ahead, and the guest list shall be “expanded,” as shall Charlotte’s personal court. It’s obviously implied who this guest list expansion entails, but ifBridgertonhas one true weakness, it is the desire to make a commentary about systemic racism without ever saying the words. It’s far too late for that now, but had this entire world simply been presented as diverse without comment, there are still plenty of ways to incorporate romantic angst. Romance novels do it all the time.
One recipient of the expanded wedding invitation is Agatha Danbury (Arsema Thomas), a young woman forced to endure the attentions of her much older husband (Cyril Nri), particularly when he’s excited about something. Like, say, an invitation to the royal wedding, and an additional invitation for his wife to serve in the court of the new Queen. Her maid Coral (Peyvand Sadeghian) catches Agatha up on the developments, telling her that the two “sides” will be mixing at the upcoming royal wedding, something Agatha has a hard time believing. This constant allusion to “sides,” again, dances around the issue without ever putting a name to it. It also puts all non-white residents of London under the same umbrella, making communities of color out to be a massive monolith.
Charlotte heads up to get her wedding dress fitted, accompanied — at five paces behind — by a young Brimsley (Sam Clemmett), who tells her he will be accompanying her everywhere from now on. Charlotte presses him for more information on the King, but he won’t yield anything of use, nor will any of the ladies fitting Charlotte into her frankly underwhelming wedding dress. Any of her direct questions about George’s looks, temperament, interests, or intelligence are completely ignored or met with platitudes. Finally, Charlotte has enough and dismisses everyone — Brimsley included — ostensibly to use the chamber pot. But as the guests begin to arrive for the main event, Brimsley has a horrifying realization: the bride has gone missing.
Augusta makes a point of greeting the guests from “the other side” first, elevating the Danbury’s to a new social standing as titled members of the ton. In a fun little Easter egg for fans ofJulia Quinn’s non-Bridgertonnovels, she then moves away to greet the Smythe-Smith family, who in the books are notorious for lacking any musical ability, but not letting that stop them from putting on annual musical performances. Brimsley rushes in and hurriedly confesses to his friend Reynolds (Freddie Dennis) that he cannot find the bride. Unfortunately — or fortunately perhaps — their conversation does not go unheard by everyone.
Out in the garden, Charlotte is attempting to scale the wall and make her escape, her voluminous skirts making the task rather difficult. She is found by the young man who overheard Brimsley and Reynolds, who she initially dismisses, but is surprised to learn is actually the man she is currently meant to be marrying. George is utterly charming, winning Charlotte over with his easy-going manner (“to you, I’m just George”), his willingness to tell her anything she wants to know, including his interests and hobbies, and perhaps most importantly his assurance that she doesn’t actually have to marry him if she doesn’t want to. Adolphus finds them in the garden and looks horrified that George gave headstrong Charlotte the option to walk away, but George’s openness is enough to Charlotte to make that trip down the aisle.
Charlotte finally makes her grand entrance, dressed in her Parisian gown rather than the “traditional English” one. After being told explicitly and otherwise that she has no power or right to make her own choices, it’s nice to see her take to these small acts of rebellion so quickly. Doubly so in this case, given how elaborate everyone else’s gowns and jewels are. Full offense to Princess Augusta, that English gown was woefully unsuitable for a royal wedding (though it served perfectly for a meet-cute). Given Augusta’s determination to put everyone in what she perceives as their place, it almost seems as if she wanted Charlotte to shine less brightly than everyone else at her own wedding.
The tentatively happy couple say their vows, are pronounced married, and spend the entire reception dancing together. Amarteifio and Mylchreest’s chemistry is fantastic: Charlotte and George can hardly take their eyes off each other, trading little secret smiles all throughout the evening. A successful marriage looks all but guaranteed. That is, until George conveys Charlotte tohernew home — not theirs,hers— and bids her a good night. Though no one saw fit to instruct Charlotte on what “marital duties” actually entail, she knows enough to know that a couple is meant to spend their wedding night together. George, however, shuts all this down and instead leaves for his own estate. “Just George” is gone, the King of England standing in his place, leaving Charlotte to spend her wedding night alone.
In the “present” day — that is to say, the Regency era whereBridgertontakes place, things are not going much better for Charlotte. Her granddaughter, the only legitimate heir to the throne, has died in childbirth. The news comes to her in the middle of the night, causing her to dryly assume that it is George that has died instead. Assured that her husband is alive and well — and with Lady Whistledown (Julie Andrews) reporting on the Queen’s failure to secure a match for any of her children — she turns her attentions to securing that legitimate royal heir.
It’s such a stark contrast to see newly-arrived Charlotte compared with the Charlotte who has been queen for so long it barely fazes her anymore. It might be tempting to say the two have nothing in common, but that’s simply not true. Underneath Young Charlotte’s optimism and Older Charlotte’s exhaustion is a matter-of-factness that makes her so well-suited to the role she has had to assume. She’s not unfeeling, she’s just had to learn when to feel her feelings. Similar-yet-different they may be, but the episode leaves both of them with quite a personal predicament on their hands.
