When I saw both these films at the cinema I didn't think much of them. The first one was fine, a nice girly comedy, but not my cup of tea. I found the second one very weak; I just thought the plot got more and more ridiculous, ski trip all fine, break up fine, but it started to get weird when publisher Hugh Grant was suddenly a TV presenter at Bridget's work. Ok, a bit odd. Then Bridget gets arrested in Thailand and gets 15 years in jail. Wait, what?! Ok, fine, I suppose that might happen if she accidentally tried smuggling drugs. Finally Bridget runs to see her man only to find the 22 year-old lawyer (already; wot?) she thinks he's having an affair with is actually in love with HER! Right, this was the bit that really annoyed me, the girl has never spent any time with her! How is she so in love with her?! Stupid! Also you really shouldn't expect a marriage proposal from someone you've been seeing for eight weeks. WTF? But, I watched both films again recently, the second one two days ago and the first about a month ago. The second one still has all those stupid plot devices in it but I found it more enjoyable this time because I liked Bridget so much. It was sort of like how when my friend Suzie watched the sitcom Spaced for the first time and hated Daisy but by the end of the first series she loved Daisy because she realised- like all girl geeks who watch spaced- she IS Daisy! We all are!! And now, on watching Bridget Jones' Diary for the first time sine it came out, watching it at 25 I realised first with horror, and then with fondness, that I AM Bridget. We all are.
It was quite terrifying really how many similarities there were. Bridget duck-walked around the office looking pink and messy with a short skirt and a cardigan on, smug that she's flirting with a handsome man. I said while watching it "Jeez! What a mess she is!" I was wearing the exact same outfit. I wear the same clothes as Bridget every day. I think I look great but I don't, I look pink and messy. And even more horrifyingly the giggly flirting and hoof in mouth in front of handsome bastards, Christ, that's me! Even the massive pants ring a bell.
The only problem is that though I have realised now that I am Bridget Jones I am the Bridget Jones dead and alone in her flat being eaten by alsations rather than the one Hugh Grant and Colin Firth have a brilliantly funny fight through a Turkish restaurant over. Boo!
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