Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy film review – Dialling down the cringe
Mad smiling and dodgy pronunciation distracts from a decent comedy turn by Renée Zellweger in this fourth (and final?) instalment about the former desperate singleton turned widowed single mother

The last time we saw hapless heroine Bridget Jones, she was finally wedding her beloved Mark Darcy after confirmation that he was the father of her child. Fast-forward nearly a decade and Darcy is, well, dead (killed by a landmine during a humanitarian mission, no less), with Bridget now a single mother to two young kids and back in the dating game.
Mad About The Boy follows Bridget (Renée Zellweger) as she indulges in a spot of middle-aged wish-fulfilment by hooking up with the bizarrely named twentysomething Roxster McDuff (man of the moment Leo Woodall), while Chiwetel Ejiofor plays her son’s socially awkward science teacher Mr Wallaker, who may be more her speed. Emma Thompson has some shamelessly random but mildly amusing moments as Bridget’s gynaecologist, while Hugh Grant’s geriatric cad Daniel steals the show with his unconventional approach to childcare.
To Leslie director Michael Morris dials down the cringe a tad, and there are some good gags. However, emotionally it’s all pretty superficial, with a skip-to-the-end approach to bereavement. This fourth instalment is marginally more sweet than saccharine, but still, Grant’s sleazebag provides such welcome relief from the well-meaningness that when he pops up you almost want to cheer. She should have this down pat by now, but it’s a weird, slightly waxy turn from Zellweger, who was so brilliant in Judy. A smattering of ‘zany’ charm and decent stab at the comedy aside, her effortful take on received pronunciation continues to be a colossal distraction and there’s an awful lot of smiling madly into the middle-distance.
If you’re looking for a film that’s frothy and formulaic this will undoubtedly deliver, yet Bridget’s status as a bafflingly posh everywoman continues to rankle. Do people really want to bury their heads in the sand regarding anything more relatable? Is there an almost pornographic appeal to her privilege? Does her chaos somehow reflect the shitshow that Britain has become? There’s certainly something that keeps people wanting more and, for better or worse, we get the heroines we ask for.
Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy is in cinemas from Thursday 13 February.