Is Jonathan Bailey leaving 'Bridgerton? Star hints at future on Netflix show
Jonathan Bailey has confirmed he will continue his role in Bridgerton, even as his career expands with high-profile film roles. The actor, who stars as Anthony Bridgerton, recently wrapped production on the Netflix drama's fourth season, expected to release in 2026.
Speaking to The Hollywood Reporter, Bailey assured that despite the show's rotating focus on different characters each season, he remains proud to be part of the ensemble. 'I've never been someone who's like, 'Thanks, bye.' It's not in my nature,' he said, emphasising the sense of continuity and collaboration the series offers.
Bailey's return comes as he takes on leading roles in global projects, including Wicked and Jurassic World Rebirth, set to premiere this summer.
Filming on Bridgerton remains demanding, but Bailey credits the production's structure and loyal audience as reasons to stay involved. 'I know how important familiarity of character and storyand consistency is in long-running series,' he added.
Since debuting in 2020, Bridgerton has become one of Netflix's most successful original series, and Bailey's portrayal of Viscount Bridgerton helped lead season 2 to record viewership. His continued involvement reassures fans of the show's core cast stability amid broader changes.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Express Tribune
16 hours ago
- Express Tribune
David Beckham's garden carrot leaves Victoria ‘embarrassed' in funny home video
Sir David Beckham left his wife Victoria in fits of laughter after sharing a light-hearted video from their Cotswolds garden. The 50-year-old former England captain filmed himself harvesting a carrot from his home vegetable patch while being filmed by Victoria. 'I really hope it's good,' David said as he crouched beside the garden bed, clearing away soil with anticipation. But the excitement quickly turned to humour as he pulled up a small carrot with twisted roots. Victoria, filming the moment, burst into laughter, exclaiming, 'That's so disappointing,' and added, 'Omg that's embarrassing.' Posting the moment on Instagram, David captioned the video: 'Exciting day today in my veggie garden, CARROTS, but not exactly what I expected.' Fans reacted warmly in the comments. The Beckhams have gradually transformed their £12 million Cotswolds estate into a rural retreat, featuring a lake, bee hives, a greenhouse, an outdoor sauna, and multiple garden patches. David's passion for outdoor living was also noted in his Netflix documentary, where he shared his love for his 'country get-up.'
Express Tribune
19 hours ago
- Express Tribune
The Titan, the Max, and the cult of the visionary
In June 2023, the world momentarily paused to follow the fate of five men trapped inside a small carbon fibre tube descending into the depths of the Atlantic. Aboard the OceanGate submersible named Titan, their mission was to witness the graveyard of another failed engineering marvel — the Titanic. However, it was barely 90 minutes into their descent that the Titan lost contact with the surface ship. A multinational search effort was launched and for days, headlines speculated the possibility of survival and the fate that met the adventurers on board the submersible. TV new channels ran live updates on the oxygen levels inside the sub. On the surface, this was a story of risk, exploration, and tragedy. But as the dust settled — or rather, as the implosion was confirmed — what emerged was not a simple tale of unfortunate loss but a parable of 21st-century hubris. Just like another disaster that came before it — the crashes of two Boeing 737 Max aircrafts in 2018 and 2019, which claimed 346 lives — the Titan sub tragedy was not an accident. It was the vision of a billionaire who placed profit, reputation, and ego above human life. Netflix's twin documentaries, The Titan: The OceanGate Disaster and Downfall: The Case Against Boeing, are in many ways cinematic mirror images of one another. One probes an elite venture's audacious flirtation with death, and the other, a once-revered aerospace titan's calculated betrayal of its founding values. Together, they offer a chilling study of how capitalist incentives and delusional self-belief have hollowed out the core of safety, accountability, and engineering integrity. What the documentary reveals is that The Titan sub was no sleek marvel of deep-sea engineering. It was a patchwork of consumer-grade parts, including a video game controller used to steer it and experimental carbon fibre technology deemed unsuitable by deep-sea experts. Stockton Rush, OceanGate's founder, persisted in cutting corners and dismissing warnings. He had fired employees who raised safety concerns and sidestepped regulatory classification by labeling his vessel as an "experimental" craft. The Titan: The OceanGate Disaster doesn't just document a submersible's final voyage. It examines the psychology of its maker. Rush was a man who saw regulation as an 'obstacle to innovation' and believed himself uniquely capable of rewriting the rules. His hubris wasn't just personal; it was ideological. He believed in the mythology of the visionary entrepreneur, the kind Silicon Valley hails as disruptive geniuses, too bold for bureaucracies and too fast for rules. This myth, dangerously incubated in the echo chambers of modern capitalism, is what ultimately doomed the Titan. What makes Titan particularly unsettling is its cultural context. As the documentary smartly illustrates, the media spectacle that followed the incident became its own capitalist sideshow — clickbait headlines, Twitter jokes, and livestreamed oxygen countdowns. The actual engineering failure became less important than the cultural symbolism: rich men paying $250,000 to tour the ruins of a sunken ship, only to die en route in an imploding capsule. It was sadder than Daedalus' own son flying too close to the sun on the wings he created. The film subtly points out that the real problem is not that the story distracted us from "more important" news. The tragedy is that our social media-fueled discourse couldn't rise above simplistic binaries: Either mourn the deaths or mock them; there was no nuance to the discussion on wealth inequality and scientific exploration. A corporation falls If Titan is a story of libertarian arrogance run amok, Downfall: The Case Against Boeing is the quiet, damning chronicle of institutional rot. Directed by Rory Kennedy, Downfall traces the corporate unravelling of Boeing from a beacon of engineering excellence to a cautionary tale of financialised capitalism. When Lion Air Flight 610 crashed into the Java Sea in October 2018, and Ethiopian Airlines Flight 302 fell out of the sky five months later, the world wanted to blame pilot error or poor training. After all, it was unthinkable that Boeing — with its sterling legacy and global dominance — had built a flawed aircraft. 'If it ain't Boeing, I ain't going' was the tagline bandied about, such was the faith in this aerospace engineering marvel. However, Downfall strips away that illusion with surgical precision. It reveals how the 737 Max, Boeing's bestselling plane, had been designed with a secret: a deadly anti-stall system (MCAS) that pilots weren't told about, not even in manuals or simulators. The documentary makes it clear that the crashes weren't engineering mistakes — they were business decisions. Boeing had faced stiff competition from Airbus, which launched a more fuel-efficient model. Instead of designing a new aircraft from scratch, Boeing retooled the ageing 737 to save billions and rushed the Max to market. The company lobbied the FAA to forgo extensive pilot retraining, fearing it would cost sales. They won. The regulators rolled over. And 346 people died. The most powerful aspect of Downfall is its use of voices we rarely hear — the families of victims, the disillusioned engineers, the whistleblowers. One bereaved father becomes a searing voice of grief-fueled advocacy, and a former Boeing employee recalls the moment he realised the company had 'lost its soul.' These testimonies, paired with internal Boeing emails mocking regulators and boasting about 'Jedi mind tricks,' expose not just negligence but cruelty. When safety became optional at Boeing, accountability became negotiable. Capitalism with a death wish While the disasters chronicled in Titan and Downfall seem wildly different — one a private undersea expedition, the other a mass-market airliner — they are united by a deeper critique. Both documentaries argue that today's capitalism is no longer about innovation or production. It's about optics, speed, and shareholder value. Rush brashly ignored deep-sea experts because he needed hype. Boeing callously sidelined engineers because Wall Street needed dividends. In both cases, the system rewarded shortcuts and punished caution. Rush was a media darling until his hubris killed him. Boeing's CEO was paid $23 million in 2018, even as the company laid off thousands and falsified safety data. The firm spent $43 billion on stock buybacks while its planes were crashing. And when finally fined, Boeing paid $2.5 billion — less than 4% of its 2021 revenue. The pattern is unmistakable: destruction follows when corporations prioritise speed, cost-cutting, and PR over design, safety, and truth. This is not just unfair. As one analyst in Downfall puts it, 'It's not that capitalism isn't working. It's that it's no longer capable of delivering products that work.' Both films are also meditations on distraction — how capitalism commodifies even its failures. Titan became a Twitter meme faster than it became a tragedy. Downfall shows how Boeing's PR machine spun its way out of accountability, while most media outlets dropped the story once the planes were grounded. The documentaries themselves stand almost as acts of resistance: attempts to force attention back onto the lives lost, the systems failed, and the accountability evaded. The deeper tragedy is not just that people died, but that we may already be forgetting why. In our hyper-speed information In Titan, we witness the literal implosion of a vessel designed with fatal flaws by a man who believed he could bend physics to his will. In Downfall, we watch a metaphorical implosion — a company once synonymous with trust and safety reduced to an emblem of regulatory capture and corporate decay. What kind of society rewards recklessness with wealth? How did we allow institutions meant to protect us to become tools of political influence and market domination? Both are American stories. Both are capitalist stories. And both leave us with the same message: when profit becomes the only metric of success, we all become collateral damage. These documentaries are not just post-mortems; they are warnings. The sea and sky are unforgiving environments. So is reality. No matter how much money you throw at it, how many rules you bypass, or how compelling your origin myth is, eventually, the truth will catch up — with a stall, a crash, or an implosion. And when it does, it won't care how good your stock looked.
Express Tribune
20 hours ago
- Express Tribune
'The Waltons' and 'Sanford & Son' star Lynn Hamilton dies at 95 at her Chicago home
Veteran television actress Lynn Hamilton, known for her memorable roles in The Waltons and Sanford & Son, has died at her Chicago home at the age of 95. She died of natural causes on June 19, her former manager and publicist, Rev. Calvin Carson, told The Hollywood Reporter. Hamilton portrayed Donna Harris, the girlfriend of Redd Foxx's Fred Sanford, in Sanford & Son, a role written specifically for her after an impressive day-player performance. She also played Verdie Grant Foster, the Waltons' neighbour and close friend, in the long-running CBS family drama The Waltons. Born on April 25, 1930, in Yazoo City, Mississippi, Hamilton moved to Chicago with her family as a child. Her stage career began in New York, where she appeared on Broadway in productions including Only in America and Face of a Hero. She later joined the Seattle Repertory Theatre in 1966. Hamilton also starred as Vivian Potter in NBC's soap opera Generations and appeared in Dangerous Women alongside Katherine Justice and Casper Van Dien. Her extensive television career included recurring roles in 227, Sunset Beach, and The Practice, with additional appearances in shows such as Cold Case, NYPD Blue, Curb Your Enthusiasm, and The Golden Girls. In a 2009 interview, she reflected on her casting in Sanford & Son, explaining that the showrunners needed someone 'dignified' to balance Fred Sanford's brash personality. Hamilton is survived by a lasting legacy in American television. She was married to poet and playwright Frank Jenkins from 1964 until his passing in 2014.
