The world has been tough on Bridget Jones – both onscreen and off.

In her struggles onscreen, Bridget (Renee Zellweger) has found herself in all manners of hopeless situations – from klutzy workplace mishaps, a stint in a Thai prison, an unexpected pregnancy and, of course, navigating the advances of rival dreamboats Daniel Cleaver (textbook Hugh Grant) and Mark Darcy (a stoic but endearing Colin Firth). Every time her happy ending arrives, a sequel inevitably knocks on the door to disrupt her peace and throw a new spanner in the works. But our hapless heroine has overcome her fair share of tumbles to end up on top each time, more emboldened and plucky than ever before. 

However, there's a strong argument to be made that Bridget's greatest trials have not taken place onscreen, but in the court of public opinion. Since her debut in 2004's Bridget Jones's Diary, Bridget has cut a divisive figure in public media. For all those that admire her raw honesty, there are those that criticise her less-than-ideal ideological values. She's been labelled toxic, vapid, anti-feminist, and a detrimental influence on impressionable teens and young women alike. Though ahead of her latest outing, Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy, perhaps it's time to stop expecting Bridget Jones to be a perfect role model, but celebrate her as a rare onscreen portrayal of the reality of navigating life as a real and, yes, imperfect, woman. Love her or hate her, Bridget Jones has always been something of a bellwether for the everywoman. A perfect feminist? Hardly. But the everywoman rarely is.

Originally conceived in a newspaper column as a vehicle for social commentary by author Helen Fielding, Bridget was always intended to operate in the nebulous space between expectation and reality: Bridget “tapped into […] the gap between how people feel they are expected to be on the outside and how they actually feel inside,” Fielding has said of her zeitgeisty creation. Try as we might, it's difficult to deny the existence of this gap – so should we really be so harsh on Bridget Jones for tackling it head on?

To even mention Bridget Jones is to wade into a cultural quagmire around weight. Indeed, some of the biggest criticisms levied against her earlier outings have revolved around the character's attitude around body image. In her first feature, Bridget begins with a resolution to shed twenty pounds, despite weighing in at a reasonable 136lbs. Offscreen, conversation around the film's release was dominated by the revelation that Renee Zellweger, quelle horreur, “gained weight” to play the role, and the discussion and media furore around her figure near overshadowed any potential good that may have come from having a female lead that didn't quite fit the bill of Hollywood thin. 

As sad and potentially disheartening as it may be to see Bridget so self-critical of herself, the real tragedy is how accurately it mirrors reality for many. Bridget is only made more relatable because she's a victim of impossibly high societal beauty standards in the way much of her audience is – even if that does make her just a teensy bit toxic. If anything, though, it's refreshing to see a female lead that grapples with familiar body issues and doesn't possess her “dream body,” yet is still portrayed as sufficiently desirable to have two dashing suitors come to blows in an Italian restaurant for her. The message that a woman can experience these insecurities yet still be lusted for is an empowering one, and while it may not strike a perfect “body positivity” message, there's something ultimately hopeful about it. It's worth noting, too, that Bridget is truly the only character to make such an issue of her weight, with occasional remarks from the other women in her life, perhaps suggesting that we are our own worst enemies, and often reinforce these values in the women around us – a pretty deep cut for a film that returns to Bridget's “massive knickers” as a recurring bit.

Perhaps in an effort to draw attention away from the number on the scales, the issue of Bridget's weight insecurity is resolved by the third film. Now, however, she is facing a new challenge with admirable candor: aging. The portrayal of women over forty in Hollywood has long been a thorny subject – and even now, with this Coralie Fargeat's The Substance, the culture at large is only beginning to catch up. Where have you all been? Bridget Jones was opening up these conversations way back in 2016. 

We catch up with Bridget in Bridget Jones's Baby after a ten-year hiatus, and while she might have reached her “ideal weight”, she's now dealing with the reality of navigating life as a woman in her forties. Her once rowdy group of friends have largely married off and settled down, more consumed with childcare and Christenings than riotous nights out. She grapples with a geriatric pregnancy, keeping up with generational divides at work and, naturally in typically Bridget Jones fashion, managing the affections of two handsome leads (Colin Firth, returning as Mark Darcy, and Patrick Dempsey entering the fray as Jack Qwant). She's as klutzy and outrageous ever, but never hides from the realities of aging. And, as with her struggles with body image, it's an imperfect, but surprisingly honest reflection of women's experiences. Things end up rosy, of course, and this is still a fluffy, more-sweet-than-substance romcom. But the reality is that Bridget Jones was wading into the waters of aging long before it became more conventional to do so. Flawed as it may be, there's something to be admired in that.

So, what does our daring cultural bellwether have to say in her latest outing? In her upcoming adventure, Bridget is tackling even weightier material than a number on the scales: the fleeting nature of life, death, and moving on. Widowed and now in her early fifties, the film finds Bridget navigating a new and unexpected chapter in her life, completed, of course, with trademark competing love interests. This time, it's suave schoolteacher Mr Wallaker (Chiwetel Ejiofor, returning to the genre) and dating app match Roxster (rising star Leo Woodall) vying for her affections. The pairing of Bridget with a younger man in Roxster suggests a new openness in the wider culture towards age gap relationships and, indeed, a cautious embrace of older women as desirable and sexy in their own right. Other major releases certainly reinforce this idea – see: Babygirl, The Idea of You, Family Affair, all released in 2024 and all depicting “older” women finding love with younger men. Bridget may be a little later bringing this trope to the screen (though no flies on Fielding, who released the source material novel in 2013), but the idea that even the raw, honest, relatable Bridget Jones can be found desirable later in life is somehow more progressive than all the aforementioned combined. 

Will the new Bridget Jones film break boundaries around age gap relationships and life as a woman in her fifties? No, probably not. But if the previous films are anything to go by, viewers can expect an imperfect but honest portrayal of dating later in life, finding love, and moving on. Not exactly a sacred feminist text, but her own personal brand of romanticised but relatable reality that sheds light on the real-life experiences of women at all stages of life. If Bridget Jones speaks for the everywoman, let's stop holding her to an impossible standard, and listen to what she has to say for a change. 

Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy is in cinemas from Feb 14th

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