Looking for a date this weekend? The slightly porky, somewhat awkward, partially sex-crazed and very British Bridget Jones is back again. For at least 45 minutes of her 90 minute sequel, in which she dates human-rights lawyer Mark Darcy (Colin Firth), becomes jealous of his assistant (Jacinda Barrett) and flirts shamelessly with the insufferable cad Daniel Cleaver (Hugh Grant), she will give you humorous, off-kilter company. But for the other 45 or so (maybe slightly less) you’re on your own, my friend, because Ms. Jones (Renee Zellweger), though cute and charming throughout, is likely to desert you around the halfway mark, making away with your dignity, your laughter, and a small chunk of your money. Sorry- I may be a bit harsh, because at least two members of the audience found the fight between Grant and Firth to be riotous entertainment, but the film, directed by Beeban Kidron, is tainted with amateurish immobility and blandness. Nothing is visually striking, amusing, beautiful, or even partly notable in the entire film, and Kidron does nothing to aid the actors or the script when the film falls into disrepair in the second act. The first half, though unoriginal in the extreme (except for a few ridiculous gags that involve, among other things, a “vat of excrement,”) works because the schlock is both palatable and funny, with the distinctly British charm of the film carrying us away on a cloud of purely unintelligent entertainment. Witty verbal sparring, a series of clever voice-overs by Zellweger and constant forward plot motion make the first half fast, comic and never boring, harkening back to the first film, which was not only refreshing but rather hilarious. With the absurd selfishness that characterizes the funniest romantic comedies, the first half of the film pounces on the opportunity to use Bridget’s ridiculousness to its advantage, combining jokes about fashion, eating, smoking, dating, sex and all of the other great pleasures of life into a jumble of whimsically funny scenarios in which Bridget always seems to find herself. Yes, the film falls victim to the clichés that almost every single romantic comedy is prey to, but none of the clichés are so strong or overpowering that the viewer is turned off or even distracted from the flowing, free-form humor of the first half. I can not say the same for the second half, however, which is equally as disappointing, slow-moving, unfunny and, frankly, just plain awful, as the first is entertaining. After an incapacitating plot twist (I guess you could call it a twist even though it was in the novel by Helen Fielding on which the film was based) involving a Thai prison, Madonna’s “Like a Virgin,” and a stash of cocaine, the film becomes basically a non-entity. Filled with pointless and shameless sight and verbal gags, it lacks any of the wit or charm that make the first half so enjoyable. Each sequence is more poorly written, directed, and formulated than the previous, until the final picture -perfect scene, which is enough to induce a hearty chuckle at its sheer improbability. Not even the charming Renee Zellweger can resurrect the second half, despite the fact that she plays Bridget with charming angst, wit, panache, a flair for the melodramatic, and such chummy realness that one cannot help but root for and wish to be friends with Bridget, who is especially impressive compared to the cold fish performances of Firth, Grant and Barrett. She relishes every bit of every scene, enduring some unsightly moments along the way with a combination of artistic fortitude and artistic merit that is simply infectious; her wry smile convinces each and every member of the audience that her destiny to be a spinster is not only NOT inevitable (as she believes), but also impossible. Yes, she is almost sickeningly self-absorbed. Being that we are teenagers and can certainly relate to the idea of self-absorption, the performance never once comes across as boring or annoying. In a film full of those performances, Zellweger is certainly refreshing. Kidron allows the film to fall into complete disarray, a testament to the immaturity and irrationality behind his directorial choices. No, the film is not a complete and total failure, but it could have been more interesting, exciting, original, and funny if Kidron had not let the film slip into the coma that it does. The viewer is left yawning as the film drags through the second half with the dour unhappiness of the Bataan Death March. With the magic lost and the humorous tale of Ms. Jones having completely disappeared, viewers are left with a bad taste in their mouths that never seems to fade. Overall Grade: 4-
