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Bridget Jone’s Baby Srt Sub Subtitle Download

A copper-bottomed, crinkly-eyed Chardonnay-swilling hoot.

Far from being a romantic comedy relic the former poster girl for hapless singletons enjoys a triumphant last hurrah in Bridget Jones’s Baby, once again coming very late to the party – this time, babies not boyfriends – and cheering us up immensely.

Renee Zellweger gives a winning performance, recapturing the loveable charm and integrity of the character that was lost in the 2004 follow-up Edge Of Reason, in which Bridget gave way to annoying, prat-falling caricature.

Here, Bridget is treated with the respect she deserves as a fully-fleshed but deeply flawed and hapless human being (she still suffers jaw-dropping humiliation) with plenty of self-awareness.

The picture opens cleverly with Bridget back in her pyjamas, home alone on her birthday, wondering out loud, “how the hell did I end up here again?”. As before, All By Myself blares from her speakers.

It’s both a nostalgic nod to one of the most memorable moments from the first film and a brilliant way of acknowledging what is the very belated return of a character most people assume has passed her sell-by date.

The World Premiere of Bridget Jones’s Baby
Tue, September 6, 2016
It’s been a 12 year wait but Hollywood star Renee Zellweger is back as the hapless heroine Bridget Jones.


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How can there be a place for a hopeless man-and-calorie-obsessed singleton in the modern era? And who on Earth keeps a diary any more? Bridget today would surely have a video blog or her own YouTube channel, or at the very least be on Twitter.

One of the achievements of the film is how it updates Bridget and her world while remaining true to the character and avoiding any kind of cringy or contrived attempt to make her “modern”.

Now working as a TV news producer, she is still the same old Bridget (tongue-tied and accident-prone) but with qualities that are arguably now more appealing and resonant.

In the age of Tinder and trivia, she is a romantic who believes in true love while professionally she is trying to do valuable work (of the sort the earnest human rights lawyer Mark Darcy might be proud).

It’s a task made much harder by the arrival of a humourless ratings-chasing new boss, Alice (the excellent Kate O’Flynn).

Bridget is and always has been something of an innocent and much of the comedy derives from seeing her navigate the crass and confusing modern world, be it head-scratching invitations to exotic sexual parties from rambunctious colleague Cathy (Joanna Scanlan) or being dragged to a festival (“sexual free-for-alls”) by Miranda, the show’s crazy presenter played by a scene-stealing Sarah Solemani.

The pair’s encounter with Ed Sheeran in the VIP tent is almost worth the price of admission. Although the same could be said for any number of sequences in the consistently hilarious film and pretty much every scene with Emma Thompson who plays Bridget’s disapproving gynaecologist (the actress co-wrote the screenplay with Helen Fielding and Dan Mazer).

It’s at the festival where Bridget encounters the hot new man in her life, Jack, played by Patrick Dempsey, a charming American billionaire who runs a dating website that specialises in matchmaking couples courtesy of some number-crunching algorithm.

Bridget knows none of this when she has a drunken night of fun with him in his high-end tent, a night which results in her unexpected pregnancy. Or does it? For a few days later, she also finds herself between the sheets – at a christening, no less – with old flame Mark Darcy (Colin Firth).

No longer is Bridget, in her words “the last barren husk in London”. The question is, who is the father? And who, if either of them, does Bridget want to spend the rest of her life with? According to Jack’s algorithm he and Bridget are a perfect match but can a computer master matters of the heart?

This is the question Bridget must answer as she valiantly if, at times, catastrophically, manages the incredibly awkward situation she finds herself in, not having the heart to tell either man there is a daddy-rival on the scene (both men, in different ways, are delighted at the prospect of becoming fathers).

Of course, it’s all very far-fetched in a wish-fulfilment way but it is scripted so amusingly and performed so charmingly that you willingly suspend disbelief and delight in Bridget’s increasingly fraught dilemmas.

Firth is masterful as the still uptight Darcy, his expressions and reaction shots producing as many laughs as the scripted dialogue, and Dempsey is a charmer.

The supporting characters are also a joy, including Bridget’s re-appearing old friends and family.

Gemma Jones is priceless as her mother, now a Margaret Thatcher-wannabe in powder-blue suits running for the parish council (“We are a grandmother,” she announces victoriously), while Bridget’s cast of new friends and colleagues bring zip and freshness.

Directed with style and wit by Sharon Maguire, who made the original, Bridget Jones’s Baby delivers in every department.

Bridget Jone’s Baby Srt Sub Subtitle Download

ter a long gestation, the arrival of “Bridget Jones’s Baby” will inspire yodels of delight, amid followers of the franchise, and a dark dread in the rest of us. Where can the story go from here, and how will it end: divorce, dementia, demise? Half a century from now, will moviegoers strap on their virtual headsets to watch “Bridget Jones: Back from the Grave,” in which the heroine, though smugly ensconced in heaven, returns for one last moan at the failings of mortal men?

The title of the film, directed by Sharon Maguire, comes equipped with its own spoiler. Bridget (Renée Zellweger) attends a music festival, where—you’ll love this—she falls nose first into the mud, only to be rescued by—you’ll love this even more—an American billionaire named Jack (Patrick Dempsey). She also meets and fails to recognize Ed Sheeran, although that is an error for which she must surely be excused, given that Sheeran looks nothing like a rock star and an awful lot like something that you put on a key ring. Anyway, not long after Bridget makes out, when drunk, with Jack, she also sleeps, more soberly, with Mark Darcy (Colin Firth), her former beau, who is emerging from the ruins of a marriage. Nature takes its course, but the math is ambiguous: who is the father of Bridget’s child? Nobody, at this juncture, seems more stricken than Firth. His expression is that of a man who has suddenly realized that, as if “Mamma Mia!” weren’t punishment enough, he is once again playing a character whose paternity is open to question. So good for the morale.

Luckily, so expert is Firth’s timing—like that of Emma Thompson, as Bridget’s obstetrician—that laughs, often of the rueful variety, can be conjured in the stalest scenes. We have been starved of Thompson lately, and of her forthright comic briskness; imagine if she had played Bridget from the start, denuding the role of its self-pity, and of its oddly archaic assumption that life without a mate is not just discontented but dud. Bridget is a television-news producer, but the movie treats her career with disdain, as little more than an opportunity for unprofessional screwups; Maguire has the nerve to give her heroine a big speech on the “integrity” of proper journalism—this after “Bridget Jones’s Baby” has made fun of foreigners’ names, and arranged for her to put the wrong Asian guest in front of the cameras. (Do all Asians look alike to her? Is that the joke?) So reliably does she embarrass herself at every public event that the film, trudging by on automatic, becomes an embarrassment, too. If only the plot had taken its cue from the teacher at Bridget’s prenatal class, who assumes that she is a surrogate mother for Mark and Jack. Why not? The guys look adorable together, and she wouldn’t have to choose between them. Problem solved. Arriving 15 years after “Bridget Jones’ Diary” and a dozen since its sequel, “Bridget Jones’s Baby” is a not-so-special delivery. Sweet, slight and fitfully funny, it’s a movie admirers of the earlier films should mildly enjoy, but cast in terms any new parent can understand, isn’t worth the price of a sitter.

Renee Zellweger is back as the self-doubting heroine, whose innermost thoughts are the audience’s constant companion. Having failed to find happily ever after with the dashing but buttoned-up Mark Darcy (Colin Firth), she’s single, about to turn 43 and dealing with the fact most of her friends have paired off and procreated.
Numbing herself with self-pity and chardonnay, Bridget gets dragged (actually, shanghaied) to an outdoor music festival, where she pretty literally stumbles into bed with Jack (Patrick Dempsey, yes, still McDreamy), who turns out to be a wealthy entrepreneur.
By chance, she also twice runs into Darcy, falling back into bed with him at the second event.
Yet if Bridget’s sexual dry spell is over, her headaches have just begun. Not only does she discover she’s pregnant, but because of the proximity of the trysts, there’s no way to know who the father is — a predicament that seems to highly amuse her doctor (a very funny Emma Thompson, who also shares script credit with “Bridget Jones” author Helen Fielding and Dan Mazer).
Director Sharon Maguire (reprising that role from the original) wrings what humor she can from what feels like an awfully familiar, bordering-on-tired premise for a romantic comedy. Much of that comes from terribly awkward interviews that Bridget’s self-absorption inadvertently triggers at her day job as a TV producer.
Still, the filmmakers also rely too heavily on musical montages (and even toss in some old clips) and naughty language, before a climactic section that’s sort-of cute but ultimately not worth the energy expended getting there.
Over its two hours, the movie’s primary motivation seems to be drawing out the suspense about the protagonist’s eventual choice, complete with #TeamDarcy or #TeamJack hash tags. While Zellweger slips easily enough back into the role — the snarky speculation about her appearance notwithstanding — the “Which dreamboat will she pick?” meme certainly qualifies as a high-class problem.
Frankly, the most interesting aspect of this recent trend toward long-delayed sequels (think “Finding Dory” and “Independence Day: Resurgence”) is what it says about the perceived appetite for nostalgia, as well as films whose theatrical afterlife is robust enough to make studios eager to cash in on known commodities think it’s time for a return engagement.
Yet based on this lackluster outing, it’s not unreasonable to hope that Bridget’s kid has grown up considerably before anyone seeks to pry open her diary again.
“Bridget Jones’s Baby” opens September 16. It’s rated R.

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