Bridgerton and House of the Dragon are not the first times Olivia Cooke and Claudia Jessie have donned exquisite dresses, attended lavish balls and maneuvered within the limits of a wealthy high society. In 2018, they join forces as best friends to lead a classic period drama where everyone is complicit in one of the seven deadly sins: vanity. As Michael Palin declares at the beginning of every episode of this miniseries, “everyone is striving for what is not worth having” in Vanity Fair, especially as our two inseparable leads begin to wander down two very different paths. While Cooke’s Becky Sharpe manipulatively flits around the tangled mess of her own making, Jessie’s naive Amelia Sedley is constantly struck by tragedy yet is rooted into place by fantasies. Though the two could not be more dissimilar, they are both held down by their own vanity and the people around them, who also suffer from the same sin.

‘Vanity Fair’ Tries To Become More Than a Period Drama

Opening up with the lively scene of a carousel draped with beady lights against a night sky, Vanity Fair quickly offers us the promise of something fresh. Combine this with the contemporary pop song that blares out dramatically at the end of each episode, and it almost feels like a modern take on a period piece, something that Bridgerton exceeds at. While these jabs at innovation cause momentary intoxication, the bulk of the episodes return to the familiar rhythm of a period drama. In fact, they only ever go to a fair once, and very briefly, in the whole show, completely undermining the compelling prologues.

The show instead stays loyal to the sophisticated charm sprinkled into the dialogue, the effervescence in the colors that pervade each shot, and the highs and lows of the scandalous drama surrounding each relationship. However, the predictable trappings of broken romances, tried friendships and unwavering pressure that build the foundation of this Regency-era show allow for its break-neck pace that could become difficult to keep up with. When we do, we are swept away into this cold-hearted society and live through these two women who use different tactics to survive it.

It is really in Becky’s storyline that the tumbling pacing of the show is formed. Her whirlwind life as a con artist that physically cannot keep still pushes us to sprint alongside her to keep in line, but, she proves time and time again that she is always one step ahead. On the other hand, Amelia’s story reins us in momentarily, and although her side has very little screen time in comparison, the hard-hitting plot points mean the drama does not let up. Vanity Fair uses these elements as a stage to showcase its captivating characters, particularly Becky and Amelia.

‘House of the Dragon’s Olivia Cooke Steals the Show in ‘Vanity Fair’

Olivia Cooke is absolutely the star of the show, and already being familiar with adding nuance to typically unlikable characters in House of the Dragon, she turns this vain and materialistic con artist into a plucky, magnetic “artful little hussy” that most people see through but can’t resist anyway. As an orphan who is poor and has a distinct lack of social standing, she relies on her wits and cunning to propel her forward in society, just as many women have tried to do in period pieces. Even after her plans of marrying rich are first foiled by the intervention of Amelia’s sweetheart, then again, after she falls in love and prematurely marries him, causing a rift between him and his rich, dying aunt, she keeps hustling for money, always stashing some away for herself. Like many ambitious women in period pieces, she uses her beauty and allure as tools to flirt with rich men who would play poker against her husband and lose, creating a less-than-savory business that she controls.

But Vanity Fair sets her apart through the jolting eye contact she makes with the camera, carelessly breaking the fourth-wall during significant turning points of her story that make us co-conspirators to her devious plans. Yet this offense makes her all the more likable, as her arrogance and vanity exude from her confident strut and melting gaze. In a way, we are essentially in the same position as her husband, Rawdon Crawley (Tom Bateman). We are both enamored by her manipulative side, calling it intelligence and resourcefulness, but our vanity of believing we are immune to it blinds us from the fact that she is always in control, even over us, as she ensures our eyes always remain on her. Cooke’s performance is addicting, gradually unraveling us until we wither away like her husband, making Crawley’s aunt’s prophesized threat come true: “She will be the death of you.”

Claudia Jessie Plays the Opposite Role of Eloise in ‘Vanity Fair’

Meanwhile, Claudia Jessie is a far cry from the independent thinker we know in Bridgerton and embodies all the traditional feminine values of the Regency era. Dropping her outspoken and witty voice and opting for softer tones, Jessie becomes a young girl whose ultimate dream is marrying her one true love and taking care of a family. However, it seems the universe is dead set on interfering with it, as her perfectly acceptable courtship turns into a forbidden romance, then a one-sided one, and then is ripped from her arms during a war where he, George Osborne (Charlie Rowe), is killed. Throughout this period, Amelia is steadfast in her love for him, encapsulating the role of an emotional crutch as she tenderly attends to him as an army wife, all while he betrays her.

Her focus gradually shifts to fulfilling her role as a new mother, during a perfectly idyllic montage of her taking care of her son. However, she essentially treats him as an extension of Osborne, indicating her unwavering hold on her past fantasies. In fact, the show treats him similarly, as he is also ripped from her arms by Osborne’s father, in exchange for relieving her family’s financial difficulties. Struck with trial after trial, Amelia is a tragic character that we sympathize with, but she is also complicit in the sin of vanity as she refuses to see past her fantasies despite everything she knows. As such, her inability to truly see life as it is, roots her in place, especially emphasized by the fact we rarely see her in the middle of the show. Her passivity is frustrating; while everything happens around her, it’s as if she is just sitting there patiently expecting a fairytale to approach her. While also becoming Eloise’s worst nightmare, she is also the opposite of her co-lead, Becky, who is always actively changing the world around her.

‘Vanity Fair’ Plays Into the Flaws and Vanity of Its Characters

While there certainly is no significant or long-running carnival in the show (a slight disappointment), there is definitely a huge display of vanity that comes in different shapes and sizes. We watch how each of the characters’ vanity slowly erodes their lives, from Becky constantly over-complicating every situation, essentially out-smarting herself, to Amelia believing she deserves a perfect life so much that it becomes a standstill instead. Even the most selfless character, William Dobbin (Johnny Flynn), is so unwavering in his own altruism that it harms his own and Amelia’s happiness. He consistently tries to adjust Osborne’s behavior to become a better husband, and then later strives so hard to remain a good friend that his efforts result in even more tragedy for Amelia as she becomes caught up in unhealthy relationships.

Whether it be loud or obscure, vanity dictates the fates of these characters and even the creative choices in the show. Adding flourishes to the familiar period drama framework that doesn’t really work deftly encapsulates the same thematic concerns that permeate throughout the two storylines, whether it is accidental or not. As such, Vanity Fair proudly struts onto the screen with dazzling carnival lights and turns us into morbidly curious attendees who watch the deadly sin come to life on these weathered streets of an aristocratic society.