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ALL WOMEN KEEP SCORE ONLY THE GREAT ONES PUT IT IN WRITING UNCENSORED. UNINHIBITED. UNMARRIED |
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Bogey Awards,
Germany, 2001,
Won, Bogey Award |
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RELEASED: UK - 4 April 2001 (premiere)
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ALL WOMEN KEEP SCORE ONLY THE GREAT ONES PUT IT IN WRITING UNCENSORED. UNINHIBITED. UNMARRIED |
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Bogey Awards,
Germany, 2001,
Won, Bogey Award |
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RELEASED: UK - 4 April 2001 (premiere)
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RUN TIME: 97 Minutes |
AKA: El Diario de Bridget Jones
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Argentina/Mexico/Peru/Spain |
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FILMING LOCATIONS: Globe Pub, Borough Market, London Borough Market, London,
England, UK |
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| FILMING DATES: 25 June 2000 - 15 August 2000 | |
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DIRECTOR: Sharon Maguire |
WRITER: Helen Fielding, Andrew Davies, Richard Curtis |
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PRODUCER: Tim Bevan, Jonathan Cavendish, Liza Chasin, Eric Fellner, Helen Fielding, Debra Hayward, Peter McAleese |
CINEMATOGRAPHER: Stuart Dryburgh |
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Cast -
Colin Firth ... Mark Darcy Millennia Strings ... The Musicians Joshua Mannessah ... Young Mark Young Bridget ... Kia O'Hara |
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MUSIC:
Killin' Kind -
Shelby Lynne |
ADDITIONAL MUSIC FROM THE MOVIE: Magic Moments - Perry Como Can't Take My Eyes Off You - Andy Williams Respect - Aretha Franklin Without You - Renee Zellweger Ring, Ring, Ring - Aaron Soul Don't Get Me Wrong - The Pretenders Peter Gunn - Art of Noise Up, Up And Away - The Fifth Dimension Every Bossa - Dick Walter Me And Mrs Jones - The Dramatics Fly Me To The Moon - Julie London Woman Trouble - Artful Dodger Christmas Green - Alan Moorhouse Ain't No Mountain High Enough - Diana Ross
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REVIEWS
| April 13, 2001,
Friday MOVIES, PERFORMING ARTS/WEEKEND DESK FILM REVIEW; 120 Pounds and 1,000,000 Cigarettes Later By STEPHEN HOLDEN So what if you've put on a few extra pounds, appear gawky and tongue-tied in tense social situations, and wear bulky, little-girl underwear on a heavy date? And so what if you don't follow ''The Rules'' and still give your heart too easily to a suave charmer you suspect (no, you're pretty sure) of being a cad? What's important is being yourself. After all, isn't it the real you, the quirky, quick-witted, honest, plucky, chin-up, lovable, wonderful inner you that he's going to recognize as the genuine ruby shining amid a pile of fakes? Allegiance to blind faith in the true-blue inner you to attract Prince Charming is the reassuring romantic philosophy trumpeted by the film adaptation of Helen Fielding's best seller, ''Bridget Jones's Diary.'' That wisp of novel is so charming with its mixture of insouciance, wit and candor that it's enough to restore a belief in fairy tale endings to the most embittered casualty of the urban dating wars. True, Billy Joel expressed the same sentiment a bit more bluntly in a love song addressed to a woman he has long since divorced: ''I love you just the way you are.'' But the song and its promise live on. Who could resist such convincing valentines? Bridget Jones, in case you didn't know, is a 32-year-old bachelorette who works in a London publishing house and frets with sad amusement about her increasingly iffy prospects for finding a long-term relationship. Summoning up her shaky willpower, she decides to adopt the usual self-improvement regimen to make herself more desirable. She will lose 20 pounds, cut down on alcohol, cigarettes and sweets, and land the boat of her dreams. Her diary entries are prefaced with meticulous records of her progress (and lack thereof) in achieving her stringent numerical goals. What makes Bridget irresistible is that even when downhearted, she maintains a rueful sense of humor. Defeated by her immediate circumstances and gone into hiding, she remains intrepid in spirit. A woman who loves men and loves sex, she is a true believer in the possibility of romantic fulfillment without any moon-June-spoon ickiness: it's just you and me, babe, the real you and the real me. Openhearted and girlish in some ways, canny and sophisticated in others, Bridget is entertaining even when in the deepest funk. Most important, everything she thinks and says is informed by a critical, clear-eyed intelligence, even if she botches the actual words. Yet having soldiered through romantic disappointments, she remains remarkably uncurdled by bitterness and cynicism. Aside from her highly questionable taste in clothes and her inability to cook a multi-course home feast in which the soup isn't an alarmingly metallic shade of blue, what's not to adore? In translating ''Bridget Jones's Diary'' to the screen, all that really matters is bringing this complicated, somewhat reactionary character fully and lovably to life. In choosing the princess to play this princess, who could have imagined that Renee Zellweger, a native Texan, who put on 20 pounds for the role, would be so perfect? Adopting an impeccable British accent that's not too hoity-toity, and softening her character's romantic desperation, Ms. Zellweger brings the same qualities -- a flinty integrity, a childlike stubbornness and an innocent face across which emotions melt like strawberry ice cream -- that animated her performances in ''Jerry Maguire'' and ''Nurse Betty.'' But this role is bigger and richer than those parts. Ms. Zellweger accomplishes the small miracle of making Bridget both entirely endearing and utterly real. It is a performance so airy you barely sense the work that must have gone into it. Throughout the film you ardently root for her to succeed and pray that the two men who end up coming to blows over her (in an improbable and awkwardly staged fistfight) recognize her goodness, inner beauty and all-around specialness. Those two men are her snaky but sexy boss, Daniel Cleaver (Hugh Grant), and Mark Darcy (Colin Firth), a grim young lawyer (and early childhood playmate) introduced to her by her dithery matchmaking mother (Gemma Jones). Although Bridget herself is no fashion plate, Darcy makes a disastrous first impression by wearing a silly looking reindeer sweater. A glib, elusive womanizer, Daniel elicits the same hooded-eyed Mephistopholean slipperiness in Mr. Grant that Woody Allen discovered and used so effectively in ''Small-Time Crooks.'' By lowering his eyelids and adopting a faintly supercilious tone of voice, Mr. Grant expertly adjusts his stock screen persona from the ingenuous, girly-boy stumblebum of movies like ''Notting Hill'' into a duplicitous, testosterone-driven lothario. The joke behind Mr. Firth's Darcy is that the same actor played a version of a similar character, Mr. Darcy, in a television mini-series of ''Pride and Prejudice.'' Here again, Mr. Firth is the stiff-backed Mr. Right whose wonderfulness is revealed by degrees as he peels away layers of formality to bare the sensitive soul beneath his forbidding but handsome (despite sartorial misfires) exterior. The movie, directed by Sharon Maguire from a screenplay by Ms. Fielding, Andrew Davies and Richard Curtis, begins with a blitz of fast-cut, witty observations and short satirical takes on Bridget, her friends, the London dating scene and the inner workings of her publishing house. The velocity leaves you almost breathless. The barrage continues for the first half of the film, after which it relaxes into a standard-issue will-she-or-won't-she-get-the-guy romantic comedy of crossed signals, misunderstandings and last-minute saves. What began as a tartly witty evisceration of the feverish single-but-looking state of mind (a scene of Bridget's being regarded condescendingly by people she calls ''smug marrieds'' is especially withering) turns into a variation of Cinderella. An undernourished subplot follows the separation of Bridget's parents and her mother's humiliating affair with a sleazy home-shopping network pitchman who enlists her as his assistant. Don't expect ''Bridget Jones's Diary'' to deliver any searing revelations about the human condition. Even as a do's and don'ts resource about the dating life, the wisdom it dispenses is questionable. What it is is a delicious piece of candy whose amusing package is scrawled with bons mots distantly inspired by Jane Austen. So was ''Clueless,'' now already six years old. ''Bridget Jones's Diary'' is the best and smartest film of its kind since then. Published: 04 - 13 - 2001, Late Edition - Final, Section E, Column 3, Page 14 |
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| Bridget Jones's Diary
Apollo Movie Guide It's not uncommon for me to write a movie review within minutes of watching a film, as I often find the thoughts are immediately popping in my head like so many overheated kernels of corn. But then there are films like Bridget Jones's Diary - dangerous movies to review right after watching. They're dangerous because there's a serious risk of putting hyperbole on the page that I'll later regret. It's my Summer of Sam Syndrome, and it sometimes leads me to put a few hours between a screening and writing the review. But even after a cooling off period, I can't say enough about Renee Zellweger. I said it after One True Thing ("key to the film's success"), and again after Nurse Betty ("as likeable a performance as you will ever see") - she is one awesomely intelligent, talented and likeable actor. And now you can add 'courageous' to the list of accolades, as Zellweger plays the overweight and occasionally socially backward Bridget with full-out abandon. Zellweger is Bridget Jones through and through, and she carries the film on her shoulders, single-handedly turning it into a sweet and loveable hoot - a refreshingly real romantic comedy not to be missed. Based on Helen Fielding's popular novel, and capably directed by first-timer Sharon Maguire, the movie chronicles 32-year-old Bridget's journey through early-30s singleness in London, England. She's spunky and smart, constantly trying to lose weight, quit smoking and cut down on her drinking - especially when she's home alone feeling sorry for herself. Not exactly endowed with great judgment, Bridget leaps into a relationship with her dashing but devious boss, Daniel Cleaver (Hugh Grant), and pooh-poohs her mother's would-be match with Mark Darcy (Colin Firth), an overly serious lawyer about whom Daniel has terrible stories to tell. It's obvious to everyone watching - and likely to Bridget as well - that things aren't likely to work out with Daniel, and that Mark is a much better choice. But Bridget needs to learn these lessons on her own, even if that means she's going to end up with neither of them. Bridget Jones's Diary is funny, heartbreaking, inspiring and wonderful. Zellweger has fabulous comedic timing and inspires huge empathy. She even pulls off an English accent flawlessly. Zellweger is helped here by strong performances by Grant and especially Firth, whose restraint makes his character utterly real and all the more tantalizing when he seems unattainable. The magnificent Jim Broadbent and Gemma Jones are also wonderful as Bridget's troubled parents. This is romantic comedy that's a thousand times more like the real world than the stuff Hollywood pumps out by the dozen each year. In Bridget's world, there are five - or ten - heartbreaks for every triumph, nobody is as perfect - or as awful - as they look, and fights between jealous men tend to involve more wrestling and kicking than spectacular but fake-sounding right crosses. From start to finish, Bridget Jones's Diary feels like the real thing. And in this case, the real thing is a very, very good thing. Brian Webster |
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