Bridget Jones the character is a heroine for the ages. Featured in a Pride and Prejudice plot that author Helen Fielding admitted she “stole” from Jane Austen, Jones is a career girl, a lovelorn singleton, a hapless striver who is beloved by all. By everyone except me, a person who never could be bothered to read or sit through what I wrote off as romantic claptrap (even though she’s always atop best romantic comedies lists). Through four best-selling novels (starting with Bridget Jones’s Diary) and three hit movies, I stood firm among the thin-lipped critical minority. So when I tuned into Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy, I knew I was in for a boring watch and would probably be on my phone for most of it.
I've Never Seen a Bridget Jones Movie, But I Just Watched ‘Mad About the Boy’…and, Well, I'm Surprised
Perception versus reality, rom-com edition
Well, knock me over with a glass of our girl’s trademark chardonnay, because Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy is a joy, one that makes me eager to see the previous three films. “I like a film that’s a warm hug,” my friend Jen explained to me about the movie. Jen’s a sophisticated woman who owns a global business, so I was surprised at her endorsement of what I thought was a trifle—but then again, a closer look at Mad About the Boy shows that it’s anything but.
The film operates on multiple levels, as a frothy comedy of manners that opens with a long scene of Renee Zellweger as Jones in an expansive, cluttered kitchen attempting to prepare a meal for her two elementary school-aged children. Pasta burns and bedlam ensues, broken only by the arrival of flirty, foppish Hugh Grant, playing Daniel Cleaver. Cleaver babysits while Jones attends an annual dinner remembrance of her late husband Mark Darcy, portrayed by Colin Firth as a ghostly presence in a few scenes. In the first 10 minutes of the film, the movie’s already spinning forward: Will Bridget ever get ahold of her life? It’s been four years since her beloved Darcy died, is she going to date? Work? And I’m personally wondering—what in the world is going on with her hair and all this squinting business?

Most of these questions are answered in the course of the film, which is tonally a sweet ode to human connection. Maybe the world has changed since 2001 when Bridget first hit our screens (I know I have). However, the way that Bridget sallies forth no matter what, from slight rudeness (those cruel moms at her kids’ school) to profound loss (the death of her children’s father), is absolutely transporting. The sizeable charisma of Zellweger and Grant, along with franchise newcomer Chiwetel Edjiofor, pulses at the viewer from under their roles’ English reserve. (Less so for hunky Leo Woodhall, the titular boy who Bridget does indeed go mad for.)
The film is fast-paced, with surprising character arcs and narrative twists. There’s a centerpiece performance by one of the children that you’ll get misty-eyed watching. A recurring owl is a resonant symbol of grief. There is physical comedy, and there are montages and—no spoiler here, it’s in the trailer—a cameo from Bridget’s famous granny panties. Which brings me to my last point…
My most unexpected love from this film is a charm I missed in my previous glimpses into the BridgetJonesiverse—the physicality of the character, and the actress who inhabits the role. Around the time of the first film, I recall lots of online chatter about Zellweger’s weight gain, then in subsequent films, there was jibber-jabbery judgement of Zellweger’s facial changes. I thought the whole hubbub was off-putting.
Now in retrospect I understand I was completely under sway of a biased gaze that wants its heroines size 2, ingenue-faced and perfect. That’s not the point of Bridget—she’s our frowsy, squinty, granny-panty-wearing selves shown back to us, with love. She doesn’t need to be perfect, and neither do I. Bridget is all about the joy. She’s burning the pasta, and not always lucky in love, but she and her big, beating heart, crinkly eyes and actual human-sized bum are delightful, appealing and overall a real upper. I highly recommend you tune into this warm hug of a movie ASAP.