Remember how I said my kids spend entire movies pointing out errors and inconsistencies? Well, it turns out that I’m no better.
I binge-watched Bridgerton this week and spent almost as much time yelling at the screen as I did enjoying the sumptuous costumes and sets.
The reason for the binge-watching, by the way, is that I seem to be fibro-flaring again. My arms are particularly bothering me right now, which means that pastimes such as quilting and fixing drawers need to wait. There’s nothing to do but watch. And criticize, of course.
“That’s not a Regency-era dance,” I rant to Mr. December, who was on his way to the fridge to get some water, “there’s far too much touching! And they’re too close together!”
“Write an angry letter,” he said, heading back to his basement office.
The crimes against music were perhaps the worst in my eyes. I’ve heard others call it “clever,” but I just can’t agree when, in a dance scene at a ball, the music is not only an adaptation of a pop song from 2020, but it doesn’t work with the dances at all.
One character declared that she and her husband were about to dance a waltz. Wonderful. Just one problem, though: Vivaldi’s Spring is not a waltz. Neither were the steps they were dancing: from where I sat, it definitely looked like a polka. I can’t figure out whether the producers are that clueless, or they just think their audience is.
And yet despite all its flaws and errors, I thoroughly enjoyed Bridgerton. But now it’s over and I need a new binge-worthy show. I’ll gladly take recommendations. Anybody?