Bridget Jones’s Baby HeyUGuys
Review Emily Breen | HeyUGuys – September 12, 2016
Bridget
Jones is a changed woman. Independent and informed. A career minded
40-something who could hold her own about Chechnya AND make Smurf
free soup. Her reunion with Bridget
Jones’s Diary director Sharon Maguire has put roses in her cheeks,
quick wit in her words and The Edge
of Reason (almost) entirely out of our minds. Bridget
(Renée Zellweger) returns to us on her birthday, pyjama-clad, crowned by
that instantly recognisable diary scrawl and crooning to a familiar tune.
But she and this delightful movie refuse to conform to any of the old
norms. She cuts short her own pity party with a burst of lip synching
perfection and leaves us in little doubt that the new Bridget Jones’s
glass is always half
full. Which
comes in handy when life gets complex. Bridget wouldn’t be Bridget
without a love life conundrum and her latest is a doozy. A genuine case of
head vs. heart, when an old flame resurfaces days after the spark of
potential has been ignited with someone new. Daniel Cleaver’s cad
by numbers is mercifully absent, cut down in his modelizing prime by a
combination of Hugh Grant’s reticence and good common sense. Squeezing
a third Darcy/Cleaver dust up into the series would undoubtedly have
required equivalent contortions to Bridget body popping her baby bump into
skinny jeans. A passive aggressive war of manners seems a more dignified
way forward for combative men of a certain age. Thus, instead of innuendo,
GCSE English Lit poetry, and granny pant gags, we are gifted with…
McDreamy! Patrick
Dempsey is in full charm offensive as sexy statistician/thinking woman’s
love guru Jack. Tickled by a muddy meet cute with our Bridge (granting her
a Cinderella moment and us the guilty pleasure of an Enchanted
flashback), Jack is swiftly snagged in the joyous chaos of her life by a
dolphin friendly prophylactic. He is everything Darcy is not. And a
billionaire to boot. Yet, endearingly, Bridget’s feelings for either man
are entirely eclipsed by her love for her child. By
basing the film on Helen Fielding’s columns rather than Mad About the Boy (the latest Bridget novel) audiences are allowed
to enjoy a third helping of Mark Darcy and spared a stale school gate
saga. Writers Emma Thompson, Dan Mazur, and Fielding herself, have an
absolute ball showcasing a more thoughtful, successful Bridget – while
festooning the film with a confetti of nostalgia. Evading melodrama,
Maguire and her writers opt instead for a heartwarming walk beside Bridget
on her maternity journey. New
priorities have seen Shazzer, Jude and Tom recede from her life but
Bridget’s colleague, news anchor Miranda (Sarah Solemani, Him and Her),
stands in as a terrific friend surrogate in the absence of Bridget’s
trusty chums. Emma Thompson also offers hilarious straight talking support
as pragmatic obstetrician Dr. Rawlings. Mum (Gemma Jones), Dad (Jim
Broadbent), and boss Richard (Neil Pearson), bob up as îles flottantes in
the narrative – deliciously indulgent and insubstantial – but
newcomers Miranda and Dr. Rawlings are true assets to the movie. There
are reservations amidst our effusive praise. Bridget occupies a bafflingly
white world – inexcusable in 2016 – neatly reminding us that being
retro isn’t always fabulous, darling. A hipster takeover at the TV
station is under explored. And an ageing Mr Darcy, carrying the
disappointments of two failed marriages, his infamous pride, and
infuriating intractability, doesn’t seem quite such a prize anymore. Though
Jane Austen’s Persuasion was a
template for The Edge of Reason
there are undeniable echoes of Anne Elliot’s tale in Bridget
Jones’s Baby too. Not least in the sneaking suspicion that, after so
many years of hurt and confusion, Bridget’s happily ever after has come
at too great a cost. Even as their chemistry sputters back to life a
cynical voice disloyally wonders whether Miss Jones doesn’t deserve
better… One
thing Bridget Jones doesn’t lack is personality. Zellweger returns to Nurse
Betty form with a winning performance. She has an infectious affection
for and affinity with the character and her gift for physical comedy
(showcased in a mad hospital dash) is undeniable. Her story may not be
ground breaking, aspirational or even plausible but with Jilly Cooper
japes, lashings of emotional fuckwittery, and a good old love triangle, we
are not ashamed to say that we love Bridget just the way she is. |