BRIDGET JONES’S BABY
DIRECTOR: Sharon Maguire
CAST: Renée Zellweger, Colin Firth, Patrick Dempsey, Emma Thompson
CLASSIFICATION: 13 L
RUNNING TIME: 120 minutes
RATING: 3 stars (out of 5)
Hers was the face that became the poster pin-up for luckless-in-love 30-somethings the world over, with flabby body, unfortunate fashion choices and general neurosis to match.
Unlike the always perfectly-put-together, designer-New York-lofts lifestyle of The Sex and the City crew who permeated our pop culture over the same period, Bridget Jones gave us hope that you need not look like you’ve just stepped off the cover of a glossy magazine to merit a man’s attention. Two men, to be precise. Both successful and considered a catch in their own right. Whether you would be able to maintain their attention… well, that my dear, was indeed the question.
But, as is the nature of these feel-good rom-coms, Bridget had her version of the quintessential knight-in-shining-armour ending. Flash-forward a decade-plus, however, and Miss Jones’s personal life is yet again in crisis, thanks to that nasty element that’s bound to put a spanner in any “happily ever after”, namely, reality. No more Mark Darcy, bye-bye Daniel Cleaver... Leaving poor Bebe singing along to Celine Dion in her all by myself glory, once more.
This being Bridget though, it’s not long before she entangles herself in yet another amorous web with (yup) none other than Mr Darcy (Firth) and Jack. Wait, who? Yes… dear Danny boy’s nefarious ways have finally caught up with him and for his sins, he has been booted off to the underworld. And before the “spoiler alert” brigade raise the red flag, it has been common knowledge since the third film was first proposed that Hugh Grant would not be reprising his role.
Equally obvious as evidenced by the title, is the fact Lady B finds herself in a pickle of the pregnant kind, while facing an age-old (but nevertheless awkward) conundrum of who be the baby daddy? As if poor Bridge doesn’t have enough on her plate, her now flourishing career as a respectable TV producer (no more parachuting into vats of animal excrement or sliding down fire men’s poles in micro mini-skirts for this lass) is also under threat. This, thanks to the TV channel’s new movers and shakers, comprising a posse of ironic hipsters with their overgrown beards and topknots, as well as a fierce, red-lipped dominatrix-like 20-something boss lady, who’s more concerned with sensationalism than anything remotely resembling actual news.
The burning question, however, is does Baby deliver (if you’ll pardon the pun) in the same way its predecessors did?
It’s clear the writers (Thompson among them, who also makes a turn as the sardonic obstetrician) were careful about the character’s development, not least because Bridget is now in her 40?s and far more composed than her calorie-counting, chain-smoking, binge-drinking, somewhat ridiculous 30-something self.
While the sincerity of their effort cannot be faulted, though, this final film lacks the same sharp-witted observation of the first two or, for that matter, the same string of laugh-out-loud moments. Particularly where Bridget’s madcap friends are concerned, all of whom are now smugly married/involved and sprouting offspring by the minute, and whose woefully short-lived appearance in Baby serves as little more than window dressing.
Likewise, Dempsey’s Jack fails to fill the gap left by Daniel’s legacy as the insufferable, but equally oh-so-charming cad. Be that as it may, although Bridget Jones’s Baby would be better described as a sweet dramedy than a rom-com, it still offers feel-good (if only sporadically humorous) viewing that will leave all the ladies in the house eliciting sighs of “awww...”.
If you liked Bridget Jones’ Diary or Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, you won’t want to miss the final instalment.