With little attachment and minimal memory of the characters, I watched Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy with the deck stacked against it. I didn’t yet know the credits would feature a nostalgia-bait slideshow of highlights from the original films, but I could tell this new entry demanded institutional memory. I recognized faces from other shows—like the Finnish Prime Minister from VEEP—but who they were to the titular Bridget, I could not fathom. The whole thing exhausted me, so much so that I stopped watching. Twice.
I’m glad I returned to it. Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy is every bit the rom-com you’d expect, full of zany antics, wish-fulfillment fantasy, and bold declarations of love uttered intimately in falling snow, but it’s simultaneously a wise film that meditates on grief. With several truly profound moments, this is not some legacy sequel cash-grab. It’s a warm, reassuring film about aging, losing, and growing.
Bridget Jones (Renée Zellweger) long ago became Mrs. Darcy, but Mr. Darcy (Colin Firth) has died, leaving Bridget to raise their elementary school-aged son and daughter alone. She has help, including the womanizer Daniel (Hugh Grant), whom she once fancied, but there’s a hole in her life. When her support system cajoles her into action, soon she’s producing a talk show, volunteering at the school, frolicking with the much younger Roxster (Leo Woodall), and resisting what might be interest from her son’s stubborn science teacher, Mr. Wallaker (Chiwetel Ejiofor).
Regarding the rom-com bonafides, the fourth Bridget Jones movie qualifies as funny, although more smile-and-nod than laugh-out-loud. Bridget’s monologue gravitates between engaging and distracting, but Zellwegger nails this distant look while staring at her late husband's image in her mind: there’s so much warmth there it’s haunting. Per usual, Bridget ends up in compromising positions in public, but each instance ends warmly. That is, the film is generous to our heroine.
It’s also generous to its audience: over and over, it nails the small stuff. Bridget dates in a modern world here, and while she calls herself a Luddite, the film never lets her play dumb. Bridget is whip-smart, so she learns the lingo, integrating modern vocabulary knowingly rather than cringingly. Trust me—that’s an achievement.
But it’s not just the legitimately well-written dialogue. There’s a scene at a talent show near the end wherein the family’s nanny, an invited guest, records a notable performance on her phone, and it makes perfect sense for a character written to be almost cruelly thoughtful. That character—Chloe, played by Nico Parker from 2024’s Suncoast—is a minor one who appears in maybe four scenes, yet she’s consistent from start to finish. Everything is like that here. I could tell the film had me when a relationship’s dynamics shifted suddenly: rather than grumble, I interpolated for the movie, imagining absent interstitial moments to smooth its rockier lurches. I overlooked flaws because it had earned my affection.
Despite its focus on grief, I would still call Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy a romantic movie, but maybe not in the way you’d expect. True, there’s romance in Bridget’s two dalliances, but I’d argue that this is a romantic film about community. We always find Bridget surrounded by people who love her, care about her, and prioritize her wellness. Those eclectic personalities do indeed yield hijinks, but there’s this hardy current coursing through the film endorsing company as the cure for what ails the heart. The cynic in me wants to bristle at such warmth that even the ghosters return to apologize, but I adore the message. The requisite Cupid bits are fine, but the joy of a fourth Bridget Jones flick is visiting all those we met before and discovering they all remain in our protagonist’s orbit.
Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy might be a lot for those dealing with grief, loss, and mourning, but I’d consider it an excellent candidate for so-called “cinema therapy”. This isn’t a perfect movie, but it’s a really good one.
And not just for a legacy sequel, either.
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