Bridget Jones’s Diary

Nimble and light on its feet, “Bridget Jones’s Diary” breezed into town last week, buoyed by a smart script and Reneé Zellweger’s endearing portrayal of the long-suffering Bridget. Based upon the newspaper column and books by Helen Fielding (who co-wrote the script), the movie isn’t exactly a post-feminist manifesto, but it does offer a refreshingly honest perspective on the tribulations that single women face in their day to day lives. (Women I have spoken to about the film vouch for its authenticity.) The movie is irresistible from the start, with Bridget lip-synching along to sad romantic songs in her apartment. Zellweger (along with the much reported upon 20 pounds that she gained for the role) attacks the role with gusto. She flings herself into it with such abandon that you can believe she really empathizes with the character. There may be some disagreement about how well a rich and famous American movie star can truly understand the experience of an obscure British working-class girl. I will say, though, that despite the protests of Anglo-puritans everywhere, Zellweger (to my untrained ear at least) nails the accent and the Britishisms. She is completely convincing. A single woman disappointed in love, Bridget frets about her weight, her smoking, her drinking, and, of course, her love life.

She decides one day to change everything and find the right man. The diaries are her account of that search. The first man she pursues, of course, is the wrong man. That would be her boss, Daniel Cleaver, an unrepentant womanizer, who, for a while, convinces Bridget (and maybe himself as well) that they can have a relationship. Daniel is played by Hugh Grant, who steps away from his usual nice guy image to play a cad; he is terrific in the role, all darting glances and unctuous seduction. Meanwhile, Bridget’s actual Mr. Right is Mark Darcy (Colin Firth), a somewhat self-important lawyer. He and Bridget were childhood friends, but now can’t seem to connect in any way, until they, well, fall in love. In the end, Bridget must stand up for her self esteem and choose the man who loves her just the way she is. This all may seem rather formulaic on the surface, but then, aren’t all romantic comedies? The challenge is to take the stock elements and breathe new life into them. It is interesting to compare “Bridget Jones’s Diary” to the recent “Someone Like You,” which is as tedious as the new movie is a joy.

Despite the obvious parallels of plot and theme, there is a world of difference in how these elements are handled, and how well the characters are realized. “Bridget Jones’s Diary” is the movie that “Someone Like You” should have been, and probably wanted to be, but was not. Both make use of the Van Morrison classic “Someone Like You,” incidentally, only in the case of Bridget, the movie deserves it. “Bridget Jones’s Diary” employs a few gimmicks that I could do without, though I admit that it might be hard to avoid some voiceover narration in a movie based upon a diary. Indeed, I was left wishing that director Sharon Maguire had been even more daring in her choice of narrative technique. She does a few clever things, but in an almost tentative fashion, as if she were hesitant to step too far off the beaten path. Too bad, because otherwise she keeps the tone of the picture and the characters pitch perfect. Had she allowed herself that liberty, she might have come away with a picture that redefined its genre. I can hardly complain however, since what we do have is a hugely entertaining comedy. The script is sharp, funny, and British (without being so British that it would alienate Americans, which is quite a feat).

One of the writers is Richard Curtis, who also wrote “Four Weddings and a Funeral,” and the pictures share the same funny, rueful, yet hopeful tone. In the end, it doesn’t matter whether “Bridget Jones’s Diary” will be remembered as a landmark portrayal of the life of a single woman. It is enough that it makes us feel that we know Bridget, and that we like her, just as she is. (4/21/2000)