
Bridget Jones’s Baby movie review: how to infantilize women
The desperation, the neuroticism, and the idiocy of Bridget Jones continues to be appalling, not appealing. She is not the everywoman she is meant to be.

The desperation, the neuroticism, and the idiocy of Bridget Jones continues to be appalling, not appealing. She is not the everywoman she is meant to be.

An entirely superfluous attempt to recapture the magic of the original film. A remake masquerading as a sequel that goes nowhere and has nothing new to say.

Alongside plenty of heist-movie humor and suspense is a bleak fatalism grounded in depressing reality and resignation to the miserable necessity it demands.

Familiar-feeling tale of a real-life plot to kill a high-ranking Nazi in 1942 Prague manages some suspense thrills but mostly misses the emotional ones.

Magic, music, and monsters come together to create a marvelous fairy tale that’s scary, sweet, and full of tough emotions that kids’ movies often avoid.

Lays out with calm, terrifying clarity how US public universities are being turned into profit-making ventures at the expense of students and education.

It’s not great. It’s not terrible. It is bland manufactured entertainment product. It’s fine. Hollywood is not creatively bankrupt. Everything is fine.

A bland electronic babysitter, suitable only for small children still distracted by bright colors, slapstick cartoon animals, and simplistic wordplay.

Eschewing the compelling SF questions it raises, Morgan resorts to violence and would-be cleverness, and makes concrete what it should have left ambiguous.

This is what happens when men try to tell a story primarily about women — and also try to ape Charlie Kaufman — and fail miserably.