Manohla Dargis managed to articulate today precisely why I dislike the Bridget Jones books so much in her review of the sequel (which sounds awful). Now, Bridget Jones the movie I think was much better than the book. This is one of the few cases I can think of where the movie was better than the original book. But the book was not that good to begin with in my opinon. The movie managed to flesh the characters (no pun intended) out in a way that Helen Fielding was ubable. Bridget Jones seemed shallow and petty in the book, whereas in the movie, she seemed like a real person, albeit a really goofy one.

“I understand why otherwise reasonable, sensible women eagerly took to Helen Fielding’s original book, even if I couldn’t stand all the phony self-loathing and the irritating cutesy constructions like “singleton.” It’s one thing when Martin Amis renames a Fiat a Fiasco; he can write. And because Ms. Fielding can’t write a true, human-motivated character, I never understood why Hugh Grant’s and Colin Firth’s characters would be remotely interested in Bridget. My assumption was always that she must work some seriously strong dark magic in the bedroom (the sequel proves me right), though I have to admit the woman did look cute in that Playboy Bunny outfit in the first movie, even if I gasped aloud at a glimpse of cellulite. Ms. Zellweger’s dedication to her craft at that moment was totally awesome.”

The stupid constructions irritated me too. Who the fuck talks like that? Singletons? And sure some people worry about lack of men in their lives, but most of the people I know don’t obsess about it to this level. I am disappointed that the sequel sucks, but not too surprised.