“Bridgerton” is one of the pandemic-induced breakout hits on Netflix this dolorous winter. Set in Regency times, the series has been described by one wag as a miniseries for Jane Austen fans who want more stairway sex.

Despite a handsome cast and gorgeous clothing and sets, I was not immediately enthralled. There was way too much sniping and cattiness in the first two or three episodes. It felt more like the “Real Housewives of Grosvenor Street” than it did Austen with an edge. But, then, I’m usually annoyed when a production takes too much time with the backstory, and “Bridgerton” had a large cast for us to get to know. And too many of the secondary characters are harpies.

Ultimately, the main story line becomes captivating. The handsome Simon Basset, Duke of Hastings (Rege-Jean Page), and the lovely Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dynevor) become unlikely allies in the meat market of high society courtship. She does not want to be forced to marry a loser; he does not want to marry at all. To keep their panting suitors at bay, they make a pact to pretend to be courting.

Naturally, they fall in love. But neither wants to admit it.

Around them swirl other courtships and romances. Several of these are illicit. The series portrays the physical aspects of desire with an occasional R-rated blush, making it clear than human desire and frailty occur in every society, however proper it may appear on the surface. The main characters never apologize for their ardor any more than they would for their love.

“Bridgerton,” produced by Shonda Rhimes, written by Chris Van Dusen, and based on the novels of Julia Quinn, more explicitly develops the economic and social dependency of women than Austen does. With Austen, a woman’s social situation emerges from the story. Here, the social situation of each woman is stamped in boldface type on her gown.

One woman is ordered to marry an oaf, versus choosing an oaf, as Maria does in “Mansfield Park.” Another one feels caged, wanting to explore her own life and thoughts without regard to men or marriage. Another woman’s love is repeatedly thwarted because she is so many social levels below the man. (And nearly every conversation is about their social divide.) Another woman must marry a man she does not love—though he is acting honorably toward her because of the love she had for his late brother.

Only women who are alone for some reason—a widow is the usual case—control their destinies.

We see a number of Austen-ish characters. Daphne has the confidence and privilege of Emma and the unchecked tongue of Elizabeth Bennet. Simon Basset is Darcy without the dour. At least one sister pairing features opposites, as in “Sense and Sensibility.” Another woman shyly pines away for her beloved while he throws himself at someone else, like Fanny Price in “Mansfield Park.”

“Bridgerton” is awash in color—costumes, settings, and ethnicities. It appears to be following the colorblind casting concept: choosing the best actor regardless of whether the person’s ethnicity is historically correct. We learn well into the series that, in fact, there’s a political point. Queen Charlotte, herself played as Black, has opened up society and wealth to people of color. One character notes that the whim of the queen or some other powerful person could slam the door in their face just as fast.

This Queen Charlotte, and the Black political subplot, is based on the far-fetched notion, put forth long ago by a Jamaican-American writer, that she had African ancestry. He based the idea on his interpretation of one portrait, in which (he claims) her thick nose and mouth looked African. Years later, another writer followed by claiming African heritage through an obscure line leading back through Portugal and the Moors.

It seems highly unlikely that a princess from an obscure duchy in northern Germany would have enough non-European DNA to account for the storyline, but as a political point it’s no more in-your-face than the exposition of female social and political quandaries. Every minority can easily believe it can be knocked from its social perch on the whim of an antagonistic political leader or social group.

Ultimately, “Bridgerton” rises or falls upon the human stories and the quality of the cast. After a sluggish start, it rises to the top. Simon and Daphne lead the way, loving and quarreling more like Tracy and Hepburn than Elizabeth and Darcy.

We’ll add only this: that we have heard on good authority, namely a missive from Lady Whistledown, that “Bridgerton” has been renewed for a second season.

“The Marriage of Miss Jane Austen,” a trilogy that traces love from a charming courtship through the richness and complexity of marriage and concludes with a test of the heroine’s courage and moral convictions, is available from Jane Austen Books and Amazon.