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Hello Everyone!

Over the course of this semester, my approach to media criticism shifted from something that felt neutral and opinion-based into a much more structured, reflective, and intentional practice. At the beginning, I tended to react to media based on whether I liked it or found it effective. Now, I find myself asking deeper questions about how meaning is constructed, whose perspectives are prioritized, and what ideologies are being reinforced or challenged.

One of the biggest changes in my critical development has been learning how to slow down and really analyze media rather than just utilize it. In my earlier blog posts, I focused more on surface-level interpretation what was happening and how it made me feel. As I began applying different critical frameworksmsuch as , (Queer Analysis and Cultural Analysis). I started to notice patterns I would have otherwise missed. Media texts became more complex, layered, and sometimes even conflicting. This shift made media criticism feel less like giving an opinion and more like uncovering something.

The different frameworks pushed me in different ways. Some approaches felt more natural, while others were more challenging but ultimately more satisfying. For example, frameworks that focused on representation and identity made me more aware of how media shapes perceptions of race, gender, and social roles. These approaches changed what I paid attention to. Since being in COMM 433-001 , I began noticing who was centered in a narrative and who was absent or oppressed. On the other hand, frameworks that dealt with ideology and power required me to think more generally. At first, it was difficult to identify underlying assumptions or dominant values, but over time, I became more comfortable questioning what a piece of media presents as “normal.”

What surprised me most was how each framework didn’t just add something new , it reshaped how I interpreted everything else. The same media text could look completely different depending on the lens I applied. This made me realize that media criticism is not about finding a single “correct” interpretation, but about exploring multiple possibilities and understanding how meaning is influenced by perspective.

Refinement also played a major role in my development. Looking back at my drafts, I can see how my ideas became more focused and intentional over time. Early on, my writing sometimes lacked clarity because I was still figuring out what I wanted to say. Through feedback and revision, I learned how to better organize my thoughts and support my analysis with clearer reasoning. Revision wasn’t just about fixing mistakes , it was about deepening my thinking. In some cases, feedback pushed me to reconsider my assumptions or expand on ideas that I hadn’t fully developed.

Another important takeaway from this course is how closely media is tied to power and culture. Before, I understood that media could influence people, but I didn’t fully grasp how deeply it is connected to broader systems of ideology and identity. Now, I see media as something that both reflects and shapes cultural values. It can reinforce dominant perspectives, but it can also challenge them. This awareness has changed how I consume media in my everyday life. I am more critical of what I watch, read, and engage without being in a negative way, but in a more thoughtful and questioning way.

I also became more aware of my own role as a viewer and critic. My interpretations are shaped by my own experiences, assumptions, and perspectives. Recognizing this has made me more open to other viewpoints and more careful about making generalizations. Media criticism, I’ve learned, is not just about analyzing texts it’s also about reflecting on how we interpret them and why.

Overall, this portfolio represents a progression from basic analysis to more subtle and reflective criticism. I’ve become more comfortable working with theoretical frameworks, more confident in my insightful voice, and more aware of the broader cultural implications of media. While I still have a lot to learn, I now approach media with a stronger sense of curiosity and a more critical mindset.

At the beginning of this semester, I watched Bridgerton the way I think most people do , for entertainment. It was visually stunning, emotionally engaging, and easy to get swept up in. I didn’t think much about ( Why) it worked so well or what it might be saying beneath the surface. Romance felt natural, even inevitable. But over the course of building this media criticism portfolio, that perspective changed. What once felt like simple escapism became something much more layered something constructed, ideological, and worth questioning.

Each of my blog posts pushed me to look at Bridgerton through a different critical lens, and with each one, I began to notice things I hadn’t before. More importantly, I started to understand how media doesn’t just reflect reality it shapes how we think about identity, relationships, and power.

Seeing Beyond the Surface: Queer Analysis and Hidden Possibilities

My first post used queer analysis to rank the Bridgerton siblings based on how they express and experience love. At first, this seemed like a creative or even playful approach, but it quickly became more critical than I expected. Queer analysis encouraged me to question the assumptions built into the show especially the idea that heterosexual romance is the default or “correct” form of love.

Looking at the characters this way made me realize how narrowly desire is defined within the world of Bridgerton. Even though the show presents itself as modern and progressive in some ways, it still largely centers heterosexual relationships as the main narrative focus. This raised important questions for me: Who gets to be visible? Whose love stories are prioritized, and whose are excluded?

Through this framework, I stopped accepting romance at face value. Instead, I began to see it as something structured by social norms and expectations. Queer analysis helped me recognize that what we often think of as “natural” in media is actually carefully constructed.

Why It Works: Romance as a Designed Experience

In my second post, I shifted focus to why Bridgerton works so well as a romantic series. This analysis pushed me to think more rhetorically how the show persuades its audience to feel and believe in its version of love.

I realized that the emotional impact of Bridgerton is not accidental. Every element from the orchestral pop covers to the elaborate costumes and dramatic pacing is designed to pull viewers into a fantasy. The show blends historical aesthetics with modern sensibilities, creating a world that feels both distant and familiar. This balance makes the romance feel timeless, even though it is highly stylized.

This post marked a turning point in how I approach media. Instead of just reacting emotionally, I started asking: How is this effect being created? What I once experienced as effortless storytelling became something I could break down and analyze. I began to understand media as intentional and strategic, rather than purely expressive.

Culture, Race, and Representation: Rethinking the Love Story

My third post, comparing Daphne Bridgerton and Kate Sharma, deepened my analysis even further by focusing on cultural identity and representation. This was where questions of power became the most visible.

Daphne’s storyline fits more closely within traditional romantic narratives: she is positioned as desirable, proper, and central to the social world of the show. In contrast, Kate’s story introduces different cultural expectations and tensions, particularly around family responsibility and identity. While both characters are given romantic arcs, they are not treated equally in how their stories unfold or how they are framed.

This comparison made me more aware of how race and culture shape not only character development but also audience perception. It challenged me to think about representation beyond surface-level diversity. It’s not just about who is included—it’s about how they are portrayed, what struggles they face, and how their stories are valued.

From Viewer to Critic: What Changed

Looking across these posts, the biggest shift in my thinking is how I position myself as an audience member. At the start of the semester, I consumed media passively. Now, I approach it with questions. I pay attention to patterns, assumptions, and underlying messages.

Each framework I used queer analysis, rhetorical analysis, and cultural critique gave me a different set of tools. Some were more challenging than others, especially when it came to clearly explaining theory in accessible language. However, that challenge ultimately made my writing stronger. I learned how to take complex ideas and translate them into something meaningful for a general audience, which is a key part of media criticism.

Revision also played an important role in my development. Feedback from peers helped me see where my arguments were too broad or unclear. Over time, I became more confident in making specific claims and supporting them with concrete examples. My posts evolved from general observations to more focused and intentional critiques.

What Bridgerton Reveals About Media and Culture

By the end of this project, I no longer see Bridgerton as just a romantic drama. It is a cultural text that reflects and shapes ideas about love, identity, and power. The relationships it portrays are not neutral they are influenced by norms around gender, race, and sexuality.

More broadly, this experience has changed how I engage with media in general. I am more aware of how narratives are constructed and how they can reinforce or challenge social expectations. Romance, in particular, is not just about emotion it is deeply tied to cultural values and ideologies.

Final Reflection

This portfolio showed me that media criticism is not about overanalyzing or “ruining” entertainment. Instead, it’s about understanding it more deeply. Shows like Bridgerton can still be enjoyable, but they also offer insight into the world we live in and the assumptions we often take for granted. What began as a simple viewing experience became an opportunity to think critically about representation, identity, and power. And that shift from watching to questioning is what I see as my biggest growth as a media critic.

The Bridgertons, Ranked (With Love and Queer Insight)

1. Anthony Bridgerton The stress king. The eldest sibling burdened with duty, grief, and the deeply internalized belief that love must hurt to be real. Anthony’s appeal lies in his intensity he loves fiercely, protects obsessively, and once he gets out of his own way, commits completely. From a queer lens, his arc reads like unlearning emotional repression: dismantling the idea that suffering equals sincerity. Watching him unravel and rebuild himself? Peak romantic drama. Also: feral longing. Enough said.

2. Daphne Bridgerton Quiet, polished, and consistently underestimated. Daphne is one of the most emotionally competent Bridgertons she knows what she wants, advocates for herself, and adapts quickly when reality challenges her expectations. There’s something almost subversive in her subtlety; she performs the “perfect debutante,” but there’s agency beneath it. She’s the sibling most likely to thrive anywhere. A foundational romance heroine, but not a passive one.

3. Benedict Bridgerton The artist. The one who would disappear for six months and come back with a new philosophy and a scarf. Benedict’s charm is his openness he questions social norms, embraces ambiguity, and exists just slightly outside the rigid structures around him. Queer-coded in the way he resists categorization, he feels like the sibling most willing to imagine love differently. When his season hits, expect emotional devastation.

4. Eloise Bridgerton Brilliant, frustrating, principled, and allergic to nonsense. Eloise is the sibling you argue with at dinner but secretly admire the most. Her resistance to traditional romance creates real tension not because she’s anti-love, but because she refuses to accept it in a form that limits her. Through a queer lens, she embodies the desire to opt out of prescribed narratives entirely. She doesn’t reject connection she demands autonomy within it.

5. Colin Bridgerton Soft boy, with a quiet identity crisis brewing. Colin’s strength is his emotional attentiveness he notices people, listens deeply, and genuinely wants to be good. His struggle to define himself gives him a slow-burn appeal that sneaks up on you. There’s something quietly radical in his softness; it resists the more performative masculinity around him. Once he grows into his confidence, he skyrockets.

6. Francesca Bridgerton Quiet, observant, emotionally precise. Francesca doesn’t demand attention, but when you focus on her, there’s depth and gravity. She feels deeply but privately, which makes her romantic arc especially poignant. Her interiority reads as distinctly non-performative less concerned with external validation, more rooted in personal truth. A sleeper favorite with serious emotional payoff.

7. Hyacinth Bridgerton Tiny chaos. Massive potential. Hyacinth is clever, bold, and already emotionally perceptive beyond her years. She’s the kind of character who will weaponize wit and charm later in life. There’s a future icon brewing here one who will likely disrupt expectations with ease.

8. Gregory Bridgerton Sweet, earnest, and still loading. Gregory is pure-hearted and full of romantic ideals, but he hasn’t had enough narrative chaos yet to compete with his siblings. He’s all potential at this point but give him time. He’ll get there.

Bridgerton hits that rare sweet spot where romance feels both indulgent and modern and that’s very much by design. It’s not just pretty people in pretty costumes (though, yes, that helps). The show understands what romance fans actually want and commits to it unapologetically.

1. It centers desire, not just loveA lot of romance-adjacent shows flirt with attraction but get shy about passion. Bridgerton doesn’t. It treats longing, sexual tension, and physical desire as essential parts of love stories rather than guilty extras. That makes the relationships feel intense, immediate, and emotionally satisfying.

2. Emotional clarity over realismThe characters are rarely subtle about what they feel and that’s a strength. Romance thrives on emotional transparency: yearning looks, dramatic confessions, grand gestures. Bridgerton prioritizes emotional truth over historical realism, which keeps the stakes clear and the feelings big.

3. Each season delivers a complete romantic arcBy focusing on one central couple per season, the show gives viewers what romance readers love most: a beginning (attraction), middle (conflict), and end (commitment). There’s tension, separation, and payoff no endless will-they-won’t-they dragging things out for years.

4. Fantasy that feels inclusive and intentionalThe show’s color-conscious casting and reimagined Regency world create a fantasy space where more people get to see themselves as desirable, powerful, and worthy of love. That inclusivity isn’t treated as a footnote, it's baked into the world, which makes the romance feel expansive rather than exclusive.