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Bridget Jones's Diary
***
Cinema
Releases - April 13, 2001
Certificate 15. 97 minutes. Directed by Sharon
Maguire. Written by Richard Curtis, Andrew Davies, Helen Fielding; from the
novel by Fielding. Starring Renee Zellweger, Colin Firth, Hugh Grant, Jim
Broadbent, Gemma Jones, Sally Phillips.
I never got around to reading the Helen Fielding
bestsellers "Bridget Jones's Diary" or "Edge of Reason", but from extracts
I gathered they were obsessed with the kind of crap that litters women's
magazines -- assessing whether one's bum looks big, counting calories, thinking
in the language of self-help, trying to find the perfect man.
It's something of a relief to find that the movie
version of "Bridget Jones's Diary" is largely absent of such
finicky, neurotic particulars. But here's the thing -- even if it hadn't
been, it would still be one helluva charmer. Renee Zellweger, cuddly, baby-faced
and sweet, makes for an unconditionally loveable heroine, and let no word
be said against her. If her accent seems a tad too haughty, well, it's still
amazing that a Canadian actress can play a London girl as well as Zellweger
does, let alone turn her into one of the most endearing screen characters
in recent memory.
The movie begins with Bridget -- single, early
30s, living in a cosy urban apartment -- determining to take control of her
life, vowing never to spend another New Year's Eve drinking solo and listening
to Celine Dion. Fresh from nightmares about dying fat and alone, she goes
out, gets a diary, and decides that jotting her life down is the best way
to keep it on track.
And so we follow a year in her life. "Must not
shag boss" is one of Bridget's earliest pieces of advice to herself, a note
she ignores when a charming cad played by Hugh Grant comes along. The pair
of them swap dirty e-mails in the office, before he cheats on her with a
supermodel. Bridget also gets into a love-hate relationship with a guy named
D'Arcy -- played, funnily enough, by Colin Firth, who was Mr. D'Arcy in the
BBC production of "Pride and Prejudice".
There are some funny set pieces, like when Bridget
shows up to a Tarts & Vicars party only to find that hardly anyone else
has come in costume, and when she appears at a book launch having to introduce
a novel she hasn't read to a room full of celebrities. Generally, though,
the film plays as efficient romantic comedy -- smarter than most, because
of the absence of dumb sitcom conventions and the colourful character of
Bridget; she's a silly, clumsy, wonderful woman, far from perfect, with real
fears and anxieties, but obviously well-meaning and sweet.
Even Zellweger's appearance is different from
the petite stars who usually get the leads in big movies. She put on almost
twenty pounds for the picture, which doesn't make her look fat, but just
about plump enough to be believable as a woman who worries about her
figure.
Should she worry? Well, no, and neither should
most women who whine about the way they look. Bridget should also be a lot
more relaxed about her clumsiness -- it gives her a certain charm, as does
the embarrassed smile she breaks into after each folly. She should not be
considered a figurehead and "Bridget Jones's Diary" is not the female equivalent
of "High Fidelity" -- but does anything else come close? Thought
not.
COPYRIGHT©
2001 Ian Waldron-Mantgani
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