Latest Bridget Jones Installment Is A Familiar Yet Satisfying Story

It may seem silly to think now, but the original “Bridget Jones,” released in 2001, was a revolutionary movie. It may not have been the most tactful presentation of its ideas, but centering a romantic comedy around a chain-smoking, 30-something heroine with realistic proportions and a normal job was a complete breath of fresh air for the genre.

Floppy-haired Hugh Grant was a womanizing cad rather than the charming everyman that had defined his career up to that point, and conversations about sex weren’t buried under stacks of innuendo and metaphor. It was hugely transgressive, yet by the standards of the time, it was also about as close to a realistic story as a romcom had ever been.

Twenty-four years later, in a post “Fleabag,” post-Richard Curtis world, we have the fourth (and supposedly final) “Bridget Jones” movie. Released in cinemas internationally but relegated to the streaming pile in the U.S., “Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy” faced an uphill battle from day one – everything that made the first movie such a revelation is far more commonplace now. How can a romcom stand out, especially when released directly to Peacock?

Step one, it seems, is to kill off your leading man.

“Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy” is, first and foremost, a musing on grief and loss. Anyone still hoping for some ludicrous sexual mishaps and nigh unbearable cringe comedy will be pleasantly relieved, yes, but jokes about huge underwear and body image play second fiddle to the fear of moving on without someone, and how difficult it all becomes when the one person who was meant to be there forever isn’t. It’s a complete game-changer for the franchise, and by pushing the boat out in a new, bold direction, it may well be the best entry in the series since the original.

Bridget Jones, now in her 50s, is the same as ever, only trading in her smoking and drinking for a hectic school run and an endless bombardment of friends and acquaintances trying to muscle into her life. She’s still clumsy and awkward, and despite her protestations against finding love again, she continues to find ways to embarrass herself in front of potential suitors. Colin Firth’s Mark Darcy has been dead for four years, making any chance of a shock reveal null and void, and it’s time to get back into the world.

Renée Zellweger continues to be excellent. She now has two Oscars under her belt, and it’s refreshing to see her return to something that feels so natural, and her chemistry with her old onscreen friends is just as palpable as before. By bringing back almost every surviving cast member from the first movie, there’s a really strong sense of just how much time has passed. Jim Broadbent may have always looked like an old man, but seeing the likes of Shirley Henderson and Hugh Grant still hitting the same jokes a quarter century later hits all the same notes as something like “Boyhood.”

Speaking of Grant, he fires on all cylinders here. Sure, you could argue he plays the same character in everything (save for his spectacular turn in “Heretic” last year), but he does it so well. Daniel Cleaver gets only three scenes across the whole film, but they’re easily some of the best, not least due to Grant being able to write his own dialogue. He may still be a lothario chasing models around North London, but seeing his relationship with Bridget come full circle, fully adopting the role of “Uncle Daniel,” is just so heartwarming.

With Cleaver out of the love triangle and Mark Darcy no longer in the picture, the title of leading man has passed to two opposing newcomers: Leo Woodall’s Roxster, a 20-something dreamboat with a lust for life and a penchant for wet shirts, and Chiwetel Ejiofor’s Mr. Wallaker, a far more traditional romcom partner who needs to smooth out a few rough edges before he can learn how to be in a relationship.

Both men offer something Bridget needs, whether she knows it or not, and anyone concerned about there being any kind of unpleasantness can rest assured that it’s not that kind of movie. Ultimately, Bridget’s flitting between boyfriends is a pleasant distraction from the ordeal of grief; a light relief from what the movie is really about. There are no wild twists, and everything happens exactly as expected, and it’s all rather lovely.

“Mad About the Boy” isn’t going to shake the foundations of cinema, nor is it going to redefine the romantic comedy, but for what it is, it’s pretty great. It delivers on what it promises, and alongside being the most poignant entry in the series, it’s easily the best looking. A handful of scenes feel composed with purpose and not just because they’re the easiest way of framing something. Darcy’s absence, in particular, is made to feel gutting all the way through, making Colin Firth’s fleeting appearances all the more heartbreaking. If this is Bridget’s swan song, it’s a wonderfully strong note to go out on, and at the very least, will ensure that Hugh Grant remains employed for many decades to come.