Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy (15) |Close-Up Film Review
Dir: Michael Morris, United Kingdom/France/US, 2025, 125 mins
Cast: Renée Zellweger, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Leo Woodall, Hugh Grant
Review by .Carol Allen
Which means Colin Firth only gets a few very brief nonverbal appearances in the film, as a sort of memory/ghost in Bridget’s mind. Daniel (Hugh Grant) is still around though, transformed from lecherous lover into a supportive friend, who’ll even do a spot of child sitting. Also hanging on in there are Bridget’s old gang, (Jude) Shirley Henderson, Shazza (Sally Phillips) et al. Even Bridget’s mum and dad (Gemma Jones and Jim Broadbent) make a brief appearance.
Mark must have left his widow a decent pension, as when we rejoin Bridget’s life, she’s living in the rather posh London residence that was their home and is a full time mum. Apart from doing the school run, where she’s somewhat irritated by Billy’s rather bossy, whistle blowing teacher (Chiwetel Ejiofor) – stay tuned, I bet she really fancies him sooner or later – Bridget’s at a bit of a loose end. Former work colleague Miranda (Sarah Solemani) helpfully sets her up with a dating app but the guy Bridget actually goes for is handsome hunk Roster (Leo Woodall), who helpfully rescues her and her kids when they all get stuck up a tree in the park. Only problem is he’s pretty much young enough to be her grown up son.
There’s nothing wrong with a woman being older than her male partner – nobody gives a toss when it’s the other way round and there are many examples of such unions succeeding – but this one doesn’t really convince. Bridget, now in her fifties – she was a late starter in the motherhood stakes remember – is still behaving like a silly, twittering girl. And while the face pulling, grinning and always on show insecurities were endearing in the younger Bridget, when she was desperate for love, in a middle aged woman they become increasingly irritating. And they’re the reason the love affair with Roster fails to convince. She’s good fun as a mother though, getting her kids to zip up the back of her dress – hasn’t learned the single woman’s trick with a wire coat hanger obviously – and Zellweger is at her best in her few solitary, quiet moments when mourning the loss of her husband. If only she’d stop mugging.
Apart from Bridget’s gang, who still party like they were in their twenties, – how much longer can they survive on a diet of alcohol alone? – the other regular characters have matured. Grant in particular presents a rather wry and touching portrayal of Daniel as the reformed rake facing up to the passing years. Bridget’s parents are noticeably older, Emma Thompson in a cameo as Bridget’s down to earth gynecologist is sensible to the core and Ejiofor makes the most of his role in the latter half of the film once he gets a chance to do more than just blow that whistle.
The helpful montage over the end credits of stills and clips from the previous Bridget films remind us of how delightful they were. But I kind of dread the possibility of Bridget Jones the pensioner. Bridget still mugging and twittering at 70 as she waves her bus pass at the driver? I do hope not.
