Bridget Jones’s Baby has been out since the 16th of September but I didn’t see it until a month after it’s release. I tried, I queued, I was obsessed.
Bridget Jones’s 2 was probably the only sequel bar Toy Story that I could sit through. I have been told on numerous occasions that I am exactly like the character. Probably not the worst comment thrown my way.
It pains me therefore, to say that I absolutely hated it. I’m sorry now but if all you’re going to do is base your happiness on whether or not you have a boyfriend, go around with a stupid pout and drink wine on your own, that’s your own issue but it’s not something I need to see.
I thought the film would offer a few laughs and it did at times but I also thought Jones, at the supposed age of forty three would be a bit more grown up at this stage.
It was funny in her thirties, it was funny when I was in my teens. Now I feel as though Renée Zellweger has outgrown the role, or maybe I’ve outgrown the lets-sit-around- pathetically-in-my-pyjamas-singing-ballads-and-feeling-sorry-for-myself thing.
I can see why Hugh Grant chose to have himself killed for the film.
Patrick Dempsey should have stuck with Grey’s Anatomy, he didn’t fit.
The laughs were cheap, Zelleweger has lost too much weight and the ending was tied up far too nicely.
Don’t waste your mula. Just remember the good old days when it was funny.