22/02/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Watching a Bridget Jones movie is like catching up with an old schoolmate – not necessarily someone you were especially close to back in the day, but with whom there’s enough shared history to make these meet-ups fun. No doubt this is particularly true for “women of a certain age” – Bridget’s age; my age – who’ve grown older with her as part of our cultural landscape.

Thankfully, Bridget (Renée Zellwegger) has finally grown wiser; I found her ditsy-fuck-up persona a wee bit irritating when I last saw her (in 2016’s Bridget Jones’s Baby). What was endearing in a woman barely into her thirties, contemplating the fact that she’s somehow suddenly supposed to be an adult, was just irksome in a pregnant forty-something with a kick-ass job. Now in her fifties, Bridget has settled into success: she’s proud of the skills that make her such an excellent TV producer, and she’s even prouder of Billy and Mabel (Casper Knopf and Mila Jankovic), her two delightful kids.

But this iteration of Bridget is a lot sadder too: she’s a widow. Her husband, Mark Darcy (Colin Firth), was killed a couple of years ago on a peace-keeping mission in the Sudan. The issue of mourning is nicely handled, staying just the right side of mawkish. We see Bridget and her kids slowly moving forward, acknowledging their grief while also trying to find joy. The new levels of emotional depth work well, but this is still essentially a rom-com, so there’s a raft of unsuitable guys for Bridget to dally with.

First up is her old flame, Daniel Cleaver (Hugh Grant). Bridget has him firmly in the friend-zone nowadays, and I like this development. He’s as much of a player as he ever was – his language inappropriate; his attitude to women still neanderthal – but he’s rendered (more or less) palatable thanks to his kindness to Bridget and his rueful acknowledgement of his own failings. Also, of course, Grant imbues him with a rogue-ish charm, so it’s hard to hate him as much as I might in real life.

So, if Cleaver’s not a contender for a new relationship, who is? Enter Roxster (Leo Woodall) and Mr Wallaker (Chiwetel Ejiofor). The former is a twenty-nine-year-old PhD student, all rippling muscles and boyish smile; the latter is Billy’s uptight primary school teacher, a stickler for rules and punctuality – although he does turn out to have a decent set of abs as well. It’s no surprise that Bridget finds herself drawn to Roxster – nor that Mr W reveals a softer side, which makes her like him too. Which one will Bridget end up with? (Things might have moved on – at least Bridget doesn’t seem to hate her body any more – but the story hasn’t strayed so far from its ‘happy ending’ cliché that she might conceivably choose to be alone.)

Zellwegger is as likeable as ever, and I have tears in my eyes as I see Bridget emerging from her misery to recover some of her ebullience – dancing and laughing and being silly. It’s great to see her old friends and adversaries pop up as well: director Michael Morris and scriptwriters Helen Fielding, Dan Mazer and Abi Morgan successfully present a parade of ‘greatest hits’ shout-outs without ever making them seem shoe-horned into place. Big knickers? Check. Penguin pyjamas? Check. Falling over? Check. Check. Check. Running after a lover in the snow? Big check.

In short, I like this film a whole lot more than I’m expecting to. Bridget will never be my bestie, but I’d love to check in with her when we’re both in our sixties, and see what scrapes she’s getting up to then…

4 stars

Susan Singfield