Of familiarity in “Bridget Jones's Baby”-but also of the fresh and au courant. Musical gears and giddily hops about to House of Pain’s rap ditty “Jump Around.” Lip-syncs to the same pity-party ode, “All By Myself”-until she switches She dons PJs, guzzles wine, blows out a single candle on a cupcake and “ Bridget Jones's Diary.” She celebrates her 43rd birthday alone in her cozy London abode. SoulCycle class and proudly notes at one point that she stopped smoking “1,891Ĭhanged completely, as the opening scene cutely parrots the one from Least initially before pregnancy enters the picture. Besidesīeing older, she is also slimmer, something that Bridget happily declares at Watching his favorite pub burn down.” As for how she handles Grant’s no-show,Īcting hiatus, Zellweger herself is still perfectly attuned-lilting BritĪccent, messy pratfalls, lusty dalliances and all-to the role that led to herįirst lead Academy Award nomination, a rarity for a comic performance. Her own husband always left at those times because, as he said, “It was like She also gets points for having her doctor shoo the potentialįathers out of the room when matters get down to the nitty gritty, noting that Wicked delight in describing her patient’s pregnancy as “geriatric” on a Perfect foil to Zellweger onscreen as a no-nonsense obstetrician who takes The usual big-moment notes-water breaking, a mad dash to the hospital, Some very witty pixie dust hasīeen sprinkled over this enterprise, even if the climatic birth sequence hits Total rewrite of an already-existing script.

Sensibility”), assumed the guise of a fairy godmother while doing a (1992’s “ Howards End”) and screenwriting (1995’s “Sense and Thompson, who remains the only person to ever win Oscars for both acting Heart is more often than not a bundle of joy to watch and a far cry from being In announcing that this update on Bridget’s always-complicated affairs of the That so delightfully informed “Bridget Jones’s Diary.” Absence of Hugh Grant, who declined to return as Daniel Cleaver, Bridget’sīoth the first book and film, I can’t have been alone in wavering back andįorth between cautious optimism and abject fear that the latest big-screenĬhapter with its soap-opera-ish “who-done-it?” paternity plot involving two possibleīaby daddies-returnee Colin Firth and Yank newcomer Patrick “McDreamy”ĭempsey-would fail to reprise the relatable yet distinctly screwball essence

Bridget jones edge of reason script