Bridget Jones's Diary (2001) from Johnny Web (Uncle Scoopy; Greg Wroblewski) |
This
may be the second time I've ever suggested that the casting director
should get an award.
The first time was "The World According to Garp" which cast three actors with no movie careers to speak of. All three performed beautifully, all three roles became part of the lore of cinema history and all three people became lasting stars. (Glenn Close, Robin Williams, John Lithgow) To cast three virtual unknowns so perfectly was sheer genius. (Williams was not an unknown, but was not considered an actor.) But I think what the casting director did in Bridget Jones was beyond genius and into the realm of some unexplainable extra-sensory parapsychological phenomena. Bridget Jones's Diary is a beloved book about a 32 year old woman fighting the traditional battles of singlehood. Bridget is overweight, British, busty, smokes like a chimney, drinks like a fish, and flirts with all the wrong men. Now who would you cast for such a role - Kate Winslet seem logical? Kate would have sprung to my mind first, but I suppose plenty of top British actresses might have assayed the role. So who did they cast? Rene Zellweger. If you had told me that in advance, I would hope not to have had a drink in my mouth at the time. Zellweger is not British, is thin, is from Texas, has no breasts and scrawny chicken legs. Know what? It didn't matter. Zellweger did a Deniro. She gained a ton of weight, and performed a lot of the film in her underwear, with all that fat hanging out. She put on the accent with the weight, and seemed to me to deliver a memorable rendering of this character. I'll leave it to you Brits to render the verdict on her accent, and I'll have to defer to those of you who have read the book to evaluate the authenticity of her portrayal compared to the author's intentions. Frankly, I don't care that much about these things because, to quote that immortal bard known as "Hunter" - it works for me. |
Whatever
Zellweger delivered by the standards of the book and the language, she
delivered a charming, real, fumbling, often deceived but persevering
person. She delivered the person that most of us are - clumsy,
dreaming, undisciplined, but trying hard to make some sense out of
life. Zellweger is kind of the female version of Matthew Broderick.
They are who we really are.
Oh, we wish we were Nicole Kidman and George Clooney, but we're not, and Zellweger is able to collect what we really are and play it back without having us cringe in embarrassment more than we're supposed to. |
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Zellweger nailed this puppy, and if it isn't the way the author intended it, the author ought to give some thought to a rewrite. | |||||
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She's supported ably by the two men who play two boyfriends in the film. There's her suave, empty, charismatic, insincere, floppy haired boss. (Guess who? Hint: this role was cast more predictably.) And then there's her stiff, sincere, uncharismatic, intelligent but invariably tongue-tied former childhood friend. (The underrated Colin Firth) Hugh Grant brings to the boss role one unique talent - he's the only actor in the world who always seems to be saying something clever. In fact, Hugh never has said anything clever that I can recall, but he delivers every single line as if thinking to himself "look at me, I am SO clever, and so adorable". As it turns out, that was appropriate in this role. Hugh was also cast for something else he does well - insincerity - so the role gives him a chance to shine, and he does. But it's Bridget's diary, not Hugh's and it's her picture as well. It's a romantic comedy that manages to deliver some fairly contrived plot turns without seeming untruthful, and to deliver a happy ending that is a bit zany. But the happiness is tentative - as happiness always is for us in reality. Not my kind of film, but I enjoyed it. A lot. |
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