Grab your friends and the chardonnay — the new Bridget Jones is the best in years

For years, the Bridget Jones franchise was a series of diminishing returns, a string of off-kilter romances and mishaps valiantly attempting to recapture the madcap spirit of the 2001 original starring Renée Zellweger. 

So here we are, in 2025, where support for mid-range movies, in particular romantic comedies, has fallen to the point where a slasher film about Valentine's Day is in theatres while Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy is shunted into a strictly streaming release on Amazon Prime Video. 

Which is a pity, because to my complete and utter surprise, the new Bridget Jones, the fourth in the franchise is a demented delight.

A warning for those who haven't yet seen the movie: Spoilers are ahead.

As the trailer reveals in the opening moment, Bridget Jones is now barrelling into her 50s as mother of two and a widow. Previously, she had married the rock-steady Mark Darcy (Colin Firth) but, as the film opens, Darcy is now a haunting memory who winks in and out existence, a tasteful reminder of how those we love linger on. 

The film begins with a refresher course in her calamities — the cursing, the narration of Jones's inner voice (more cursing) are all there, now with an added maternal element. The opening scene finds her trying to make some kind of dinner for her kids, while zipping up her dress, which leads to setting off the fire alarm. Her family may have grown, but Bridget is still Bridget.  

While the long-running series has managed to outlast even Harry Potter, this fourth film doesn't skimp on star power. Along with many of Jones's returning pals, Hugh Grant is back as the devilish Daniel, who is oh-so-good at being so bad. In addition, Emma Thompson holds nothing back as Jones's frank gynecologist. Plus, new to the Bridget Jones Cinematic Universe is Chiwetel Ejiofor, who plays Mr. Wallaker, a stuffy school teacher with a penchant for whistle-blowing. 

Tired of watching Jones moping over Darcy, her friends hard-launch her back into the dating scene. Enter Leo Woodall as Roxster, a park ranger who just happens to rescue Jones and family from a tree. Soon the two are texting and romance blooms. 

While Jones's relationship with Roxster is about as improbable as the 29-year-old's name, Woodall's golden retriever energy makes him an uncomplicated joy, who accepts Jones and looks smashing emerging from a pool in slow motion. 

Part of what elevates Mad About the Boy is the plot, which extends outside the boundaries of the classic love triangle. While Jones is feeling the love, her son Billy is distant, his father's death still a shadow in his life.

This brings Jones into proximity with Billy's teacher, the aforementioned whistle-blower Mr. Wallaker, played as an amusing curmudgeon by Ejiofor. While an argument over the nature of death in front of Billy's class is less than elegant, it highlights how this Jones has much more than romance on her mind.

It would be easy to winge about the middle-class fantasy land Bridget Jones occupies: a pre-Brexit economy where a single mother can support a mortgage and family on a TV producer's salary, and all of her friends are fabulously wealthy. But the writing is so smart and the performances so playful that I'm inclined to give the deficits a pass. 

At their worst, the weaker versions of Bridget Jones seemed more of an affectation — a whirling dervish, ricocheting between romances. Surprisingly with both Zellweger and Jones now firmly in their 50s, the result is the most natural, self-assured version of the character in ages. There is comfort in the chaos. Bridget Jones is a woman who accepts  herself, her shape and her flaws. She shags, she drinks, she curses and occasionally arrives at school in her pyjamas. (Who hasn't?)

Mad About the Boy also serves as a reminder of Zellweger's comedic chops, fearlessly flinging herself into a series of hilarious cringe-worthy moments. Hidden under the familiar quirkiness is a smart sharp story about grief, love and finding your way on a path you never planned for.