Why? Because Bridget Jones’s Diary clings to what is very best about Pride and Prejudice, the intelligent, independent heroine and the thinking woman’s fantasy man, Mr. Darcy. One of the most basic, timeless plots is: Boy meets girl. Boy loses girl. Boy gets girl. Pride and Prejudice and Bridget Jones’s Diary are fine examples of the ladies’ take on that theme: Girl meets boy. Girl dislikes boy. Girl falls hopelessly in love w/dislikable boy and eventually realizes his true loveliness.

The casting of Renee Zellweger, a very girl next door-looking American, as the very British party girl caused howls of protest in Britain and at least a few raised eyebrows here in the colonies. Yes, horrors! Zellwegger isn’t British. I did think of Kate Winslet occasionally during the film, not only because she comes by the accent more naturally, but also because she wouldn’t have had to gain the weight as an exercise in her craft.

But, as Zellweger proved in Jerry Maguire and Nurse Betty, she has a knack for comedy. In this adaptation the farcical elements of Bridget are played full on, so Zellweger’s comic talents are very welcome. There are plenty of shots of her bum, and she really rolls with the silliness of it all. And, seeing the skinny little Ms. Z, fleshed out and booming in short skirts and tight tops, true to Bridget’s weight obsession and healthy tartiness, is really funny. Her accent isn’t perfect, but it is excellent, and she so thoroughly inhabits the part as it is written, she makes a lovely Bridget.

As a huge fan of the novel, which made me laugh out loud often, I am surprised and somewhat disappointed by what was left out, what was included and what was changed around. Bridget’s hilarious friends are reduced. Her not so hilarious parents are simplified but prominent. There’s not enough of her very cynical views regarding “smug-marrieds” and the absurdity of the world in general. There’s not enough of the naughty banter with her boss. The tarts and vicars party are included. What will American audiences make of that?

Notwithstanding all that, even a watered-down Bridget is a lot more fun than the standard-issue boy-crazed girl in most so-called “chick flicks.” She’s an unrepentant party girl. She is absolutely hilarious and often inappropriate. She makes mistakes, but they don’t stop her. She enjoys life even though hers is far from perfect. She knows she should

reform her bad habits, but not just yet.

Her ambivalence about what to do with Mr. Right, even if she should find him, cuts to the bone. She wants a boyfriend. She wouldn’t mind being a “smug married” if she could pull it off without becoming as boring as those who surround her. On a job interview for a kid’s television show, she tries to sound sincere when she says “children are the future,” but when her interviewer asks if she has any kids, she shudders at the prospect. On screen, Bridget still made me laugh out loud.

Bridget’s mom keeps trying to push her in the direction of the son of family friends, Mark Darcy. Bridget’s fancy leans more toward the inappropriate, her boss, Daniel Cleaver. The men are perfectly cast. Hugh Grant, who some will say is playing against type since he’s usually a good guy, is Cleaver: charmer, boss and cad. (Since the Divine Brown debacle, can Hugh Grant really be considered playing against type here?) Though Daniel has many qualities on Bridget’s list of what to avoid in men, she can’t resist him.

Colin Firth is the ideal Darcy, as he demonstrated in the BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. Helen Fielding is said to have used Firth’s performance in the miniseries as the model for Mark Darcy while writing her novel, so it is hardly surprising that he won the role. Nor is it surprising that once again he turns in a delightfully nuanced performance as the diamond in the rough Mr. Right.