The last time we caught up with Bridget Jones, eternal spinster, she’d finally found happiness with Mark Darcy at the end of the Edge of Reason. Unbelievably, it’s been 13 years since Bridge graced the big screen, although with what seems like weekly reruns on ITV2, you’d be forgiven for thinking that it was only last year that you laughed out loud at Bridget’s anecdotes and found yourself somewhat turned on by two grown men fighting in a water fountain (just me?). A squeak of excitement was almost audible from the majority of the female population in the U.K when the news of a Bridget Jones 3 broke. Would the years of chance meetings over a turkey curry buffet, a disastrous ski trip and declarations of love have paid off to give Bridge and Mark Darcy a happy ever after (finally!) or are bottles of wine and solo renditions of All By Myself back on the menu?
The latter… kind of.
Bridget has quit smoking, lost weight, is a serious TV producer at Hard News, is on social media and her good old paper diary has been upgraded to an iPad. Things are looking up for Miss Jones. That is until her love life takes yet another disastrous turn for the worse and she finds herself on the spinster heap once again. Poor Bridge.
Her friends are settled and married with children and Bridget feels somewhat isolated and out of the the “family” loop, we’ve all been there. When her big birthday plans with “the gang” fall through (oh hey Jude, Shaz & Tom – missed you) due to vomiting children (gross) she swaps friends with family for her “fuck it” 30 something work colleague and off she trots, high heels and all to the one place that a single 40 something girl should head to when she’s feeling a down in the dumps… The muddy playground that is a music festival.
There’s some Ed Sheeran, some shots and some drunken Yurt sex.
Men are like buses. No, they don’t smell like piss (well some do) nor are they becoming more and more unreliable and expensive: when you’re waiting for one, two come along at once. Cum being the operative word.
Mentioning the baby word isn’t so much of a spoiler right? Especially considering the film is called, Bridget Jones Baby – bit of a giveaway. Yep. Our Bridge surprises just about everyone, including Oona and her lumpy gravy, by announcing that she’s ditching the spinster lifestyle in favour of nappies and leaking nipples due to some out of date organic condoms. But who’s baby is it? That’s the question to which we owe an entire film.
The only thing I did miss was Hugh Grant. Ah, the floppy haired, loveable twat that is Daniel Cleaver. Patrick Dempsey certainly suits the Daniel Cleaver profile: a self assured high flyer with as many notches in his bed post as Bridget has had new pairs of Spanx with somewhat of a loveable rogue character but his rivalry with Mark Darcy does seem a little lack lustre in comparison to a brawl in a water fountain or crashing through a restaurant window.
There’s nods to the previous films such as the difficulties Bridget’s men face in undressing her successfully, be it with ridiculously large pants or fiddly dress buttons. No matter how many years pass, Bridget seems to retain her ability to be completely awkward and loveable at the same time.
As sequels go, I was expecting Bridget Jones Baby to not be as good as the first two films but then I expected the second film not to be as good as the first film and it was as good if not better in my opinion. I stood corrected then and I’ll stand (well I’ll casually lounge, if that’s okay?) corrected because I howled with laughter throughout and was left positively entertained as I slugged a can of G&T and guzzled pick n mix sweets like I was at home in my PJs with only the dogs for company.
Of course, the trilogy isn’t going to win any gongs or Oscar Nominations and I feel pretty confident in saying that the team behind it aren’t under any illusions that it will go down in history as a monumental piece of cinema.
For its purpose and audience though, it’s WORKS and it’s true to everything that has gone before. Bridget Jones Baby is funny, relateable and you could actually imagine walking an uncomfortable miles in Bridget’s shoes or drinking a glass of rose with her as you lament over failed dates.
A must see for Bridget fans.