The trials and tribulations of a pleasant, silly “every-woman” (Renée Zellweger) as she attempts to lose weight, smoke less, and find a man who isn’t her boss (Hugh Grant). It couldn’t possibly be that rude Darcy (Colin Firth), could it?
Quick Review: Not a romantic comedy, but a comedy about romance, Bridget Jones’s Diary is an enchanting, family-type film, as long as your family says “fuck” every few minutes and makes thinly-veiled anal sex jokes. Renée Zellweger is at her best as Bridget Jones, replacing all sounds of Texas with a believable London accent. The word “adorable” was invented for Bridget and for the film, as it really is Bridget’s story.
Other characters come and go and are generally funny, but only Hugh Grant’s slimy-but-loveable Daniel Cleaver distracted me from the title character. Bridget does one embarrassingly stupid thing after another, but charm and enthusiasm dissipate the potentially maudlin atmosphere and leave humor. This is not how Frank Capra would have made a film, but how he should have.
My examination of Bridget Jones’s Diary as a version of Jane Austin’s Pride and Prejudice is here.