All franchises should be like this. When Helen Fielding’s novel was first transposed to the screen it was populated by a superlative cast who stuck with their alter-egos as they and their characters first matured and then aged.
Now here they are all again led by Renée Zellweger’s as-likeable-as-ever, hapless and hopeless romantic Bridget. The result is a richly rewarding fourth act that includes even Colin Firth whose Mark Darcy has shockingly died.
No, this isn’t a bad dream scenario. Darcy’s presence is instead an achingly poignant way to convey the grief, loss and, with his every appearance, absence felt by Bridget and her two young children.
Also returning is Hugh Grant’s publisher playboy Daniel Cleaver whose role here is brilliantly set up early on when he seems to have forgotten a date with Bridget while his focus is typically on another woman. But again, no. Director Michael Morris handles the misdirection beautifully, playing on all we know of the backstory to delightfully surprise.
That said, the fact that the new science teacher at the children’s casually privileged private school is played by Chiwetel Ejiofor, means you would have to be a dullard not to realise where the plot is ultimately headed. However, to get there Bridget first has to be swept off her feet, bum first, while stuck up a tree by charming Adonis park ranger Roxter, an excellent Leo Woodall. After all, as Bridget’s dad (Jim Broadbent, of course) says, it is not enough to survive. You have to live.
This is four years on since Firth’s Darcy, the celebrated human rights lawyer, was killed on a dangerous mission in Sudan and Bridget is being buffeted by well-meaning yet conflicting advice from her loyal friends. But what do with Roxter is a no-brainer even for indecisive Bridget.
Zellweger’s default expression is a happy-go-lucky smile that with anybody else would come across as smug
Zellweger’s default expression is a happy-go-lucky smile that with anybody else would come across as smug. Yet with her it is a mask hiding painful undercurrents. Meanwhile, impossibly rude Grant is as impervious to our post-Me Too conventions as his younger self would have been a quarter of a century ago.
There are few better way to spend Valentine’s Day than in the company of this funny and moving comedy, even if you’re on your own. Because with Bridget, hope for the lovelorn springs eternal.
Film: Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy
Classification: 15
★★★★
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