The solid third film in the series about the adventures of endearing klutz Bridget Jones follows a similar formula to the first instalment. Bridget, the everywoman character with whom we can all identify, is courted by two highly desirable men. Thus giving hope to every chick who ever disastrously wore white jeans to Glastonbury or wept sad lonely tears into a family-size bucket of ice cream while watching The Great British Bake Off. The difference here, to run with the Bake Off reference, is that Bridget has a bun in the oven. And she is only half sure who the father is.
High points include a brilliant piece of physical comedy involving the heavily pregnant Bridget and a revolving door, and co-writer Emma Thompson, who awards herself most of the best lines in the film as Bridget’s doctor. Low points include a comic dance sequence to Gangnam Style, a song that should now be outlawed from use in films for the next decade. Or at least until the next Bridget Jones film.
