Adaptation of popular novel
keeps spirit of book intact

By Dan Lybarger - April 12, 2001 

British author Helen Fielding's novel "Bridget Jones's Diary" has become such a part of popular culture that even those who have not read the book are likely to be familiar with the central character and her futile but amusingly optimistic quest for self-improvement. Anyone undertaking a film adaptation of such a book has to meet an unusually large burden of anticipation. With "Bridget Jones's Diary," the challenge is much more pronounced because the loose narrative (lots of lists, frequently funny asides and hilariously lame justifications) is not the sort of thing that comes across on camera.

For the most part, novice feature director Sharon Maguire, working from a script by Fielding, Andrew Davies (the television adaptation of "Pride and Prejudice") and Richard Curtis ("Notting Hill"), manages to recapture the outrageous situations and the attitudes in the book. In the film, Bridget (played by Texan Renée Zellweger, "Nurse Betty") isn't sure what is worse, struggling to deal with the men and embarrassing events that come her way, or dodging the potential suitors her mother thrusts upon her. The latest is a well-heeled, idealistic barrister named Mark Darcy (Colin Firth). Mark can argue judges into submission, but his out-of-court social skills are wanting (his taste in clothes is laughably horrid). Bridget understandably avoids him and instead takes up with her publisher boss Daniel Cleaver (Hugh Grant). Bridget uses the word "perfect" to describe him, but one wonders if the adjective is appropriate. His first real exchange with her is a series of saucy e-mails, and his reluctance to spend an entire weekend with her indicates he may not be on the level.

If her romantic life appears doomed as usual, there are other developments that seem equally odious. Her mother (Gemma Jones) dumps her father (Jim Broadbent) for an oafish home shopping network host, and many of Bridget's attempts to reach a slimmer figure (like mounting an ominous exercise bike) prove horribly counter-productive.

Because of the thoroughly British nature of the material (the characters drink voraciously, making one wonder if folks across the pond have heard of alcoholism) and the mostly English cast and crew, Zellweger, seems a strange choice for the world's most famous struggling "singleton." Carrying some extra weight and sporting a convincing British accent, Zellweger proves oddly appropriate. She delivers Bridget's witty barbs nicely and projects an intelligence and warmth that are crucial to keeping the film afloat.

Had Bridget's indignities happened to someone who came across as dim or mean-spirited, the gags would merely leave a viewer with a "serves you right" mentality. But because Zellweger comes across as likable, there is a weird comic poignancy to Bridget's predicaments. She knows better, but somehow fate and her own optimism conspire against her.

The rest of the cast is fine, and it is fun to see Grant play such a cad and Firth (the scoundrel in "Shakespeare in Love") portray a likable klutz for a change. Maguire, whose previous efforts have been mostly documentaries on literary figures like H.G. Wells and Rumer Godden, imbues the film with an appropriate sense of anarchy by employing title cards and other devices to keep things slightly offbeat.

There are plenty of delightfully off-handed sequences (like the ones where Bridget's public speaking proves to be as inept as her writing is sharp), but the film version suffers a bit because it has a lifeless and routine storyline. There is a big secret that lurks through most of the movie that's painfully easy to figure out. Furthermore, Daniel and Mark are so obvious that there really isn't much tension in their romantic rivalry. This makes the pace seem a tad slower than it really is.

Still, it's hard not to like a movie that features a funny cameo by persecuted "Satanic Verses" author Salman Rushdie. Bridget Jones's musings may have been funnier in print, but they don't lose their impact on screen.