20 pounds, 1,100 cigarettes later, Zellweger triumphs in hilarious 'Bridget Jones'

Dear 'Diary'
20 pounds, 1,100 cigarettes later,
Zellweger triumphs in hilarious 'Bridget Jones'

Carla Meyer, Chronicle Movie Critic

"Bridget Jones's Diary" contains a sight so shocking it might upset sensitive viewers.

It's cellulite! Up there on the big screen, in all its dimpled glory. On a leading lady, no less.

It's but one of the let-it-all-hang-out joys of "Bridget Jones," the hilarious and sexy adaptation of Helen Fielding's best-seller.

Renée Zellweger gives a full-bodied, full-throttle performance as the weight-obsessed, chain-smoking and irrepressible single woman in her 30s. Matching her comic panache are Hugh Grant as her charming but romantically toxic boss and Colin Firth as his stiff but sincere romantic rival.

Any trepidation about an American actress assuming the role of the very British Ms. Jones vanishes in the opening minutes. Zellweger's crack comic timing and enormously expressive face pre-empt the idea of any other Bridget. She embodies the daffy determination, self-skewering wit and vulnerability of her character. The 20 pounds she gained for the role fill out her face and enhance her girlish appeal, rendering her instantly and infinitely sympathetic.

But Zellweger's Bridget is no chump. Self-destructive, sure. Goofy, yes. Occasionally arch, of course -- she's British. But Zellweger shows that the silly and sometimes slovenly character also has a spine. She demonstrates it through Bridget's tortured but determined attempts at public speaking or her surprising resolve in matters of the heart.

"Bridget Jones" is a triumph for all involved. Screenwriters Fielding, Andrew Davies and Richard Curtis have wisely pared down or excised subplots to focus on Bridget's romantic travails and career missteps. Director Sharon Maguire, Fielding's pal and the inspiration for Bridget's cynical chum Shazzer in the book and movie, has crafted a production that zips along at a laugh-a-minute pace and fully involves the viewer in Bridget's little slice of life.

Bridget works at a London publishing house and pines for her handsome cad of a boss, Daniel (Grant). She passes time by documenting her sad-sack life in her diary (Sample entry: "Weight: 140 (but post-Christmas); cigarettes: 40!; alcohol units: 15!") while slagging off the Smug Marrieds whose glowing self- satisfaction is an assault on her single status.

Real life interferes when the boss shows interest and she succumbs to his roguish charms. Zellweger's chemistry with Grant is electric, and their scenes crackle with sexuality and quick-witted humor. Their sex talk is refreshingly frank and natural.

Grant sheds his trademark stammering and fluttering in favor of an aging lothario's lived-in sexiness. He allows himself to look older onscreen, and it works wonderfully for the role. Grant's Daniel is witty, undeniably hot and maddeningly sheepish about commitment.

Bridget's parents want to match her with the more solid Mark Darcy, a barrister who was her childhood playmate. In an inspired casting move, Darcy is played by Colin Firth, the actor who was Mr. Darcy in the BBC's "Pride and Prejudice" and also the object of Bridget's obsessive lust in the book. (The character's name is one of "Bridget's" nods to the Jane Austen story).

At first, Firth seems to be channeling Mr. Darcy's diffidence and off- putting, cheerless manner. Ultimately, though, he proves a nice contrast to Zellweger as their characters' relationship starts to thaw. Zellweger's chemistry with Firth is just as palpable as it is with Grant but not as sexually charged. It's more a meeting of comic minds, with his straight-man countenance drawing out her wackiest work, like Burns and Allen.

In one scene, Bridget struggles mightily to maintain a cool facade in front of Darcy, all while sporting a ridiculously windblown hairdo. Zellweger is playing so many emotions in this scene it's hard to keep track. There's pride, embarrassment and the conflict of realizing that she cares enough to put on a show for this guy. It's the kind of layered acting that makes a great performance -- and sublime comedy.