This often plays like what Bridget Jones’s Diary, the 2001 adaptation of Helen Fielding’s novel, threatened to be: a cartoonish, dumbed-down version of a book that was ruthlessly honest. Yet it still charms thanks to the return of
Renee Zellweger, who manages to exude both grace and gravity while baring a self-doubting woman’s body and soul – “wobbly bits,” as Bridget would say, and all.
