A Well Looked After Bear
When it’s time for the next round of additions to the Oxford Dictionary, an additional definition ought to be included for the word delightful (adjective). Said definition should be simple: Paddington 2. It’s Paddington 2’s one and only mission to give its audience a sunny, funny time at the movies; I haven’t seen Pixar’s Coco yet but you’d be hard-pressed to find a more satisfying piece of family entertainment this summer. What makes this film truly soar, however (and what had me tearing up in the back row by film’s end), is its devotion to reaffirming the importance of kindness and bringing out the best in people. In the context of dark times such as the ones we currently live in, that’s a sentiment that’s easy to forget and slightly difficult to stomach. But this sentiment pulses through every fibre of Paddington 2’s existence. It’s a middle finger to cheap, cynical, cash grab family entertainment, and the best film of its kind since Martin Scorsese’s masterpiece Hugo.
Having settled in with the Brown family, life is pretty darned sweet for our marmalade-loving friend (poignantly voiced again by the dulcet tones of Ben Whishaw). However, he soon finds himself in a bit of a sticky situation (no pun intended). One day he spots an old pop-up book in an antique store run by Mr Gruber (Jim Broadbent). Paddington immediately falls in love with the book, vowing to save up to by the book for his Aunt Lucy’s birthday. As it turns out, the book includes a treasure map, the likes of which is being chased by Phoenix Buchanan (a brilliantly camp Hugh Grant). Buchanan steals the book, for which Paddington is framed for and is placed in jail, setting up a quest of catching Buchanan and saving Paddington.
Paddington 2 sticks out from the rest of the pack as a result of how much heart and soul is put into it. While the first film was no slouch, everyone involved in this one has truly upped their game and thrown their all into it. It’s incredible how much of a difference that makes. Featuring the most impressive British cast this side of Harry Potter, the film is full to the brim with warm, heartfelt and hilarious performances; the most impressive of which arguably being that of Hugh Grant who gives us one of the most entertaining villains we’ve seen all year. Buchanan is like a posh Count Olaf; his presence is genuinely threatening, to the point where you’re genuinely uncertain as to how the fate of each character will turn out. But the filmmakers never forget to make him a real character. You’re engaged with every aspect of him, which is something that is so sorely missing from villains in films these days. His character also works brilliantly as a stinging commentary on the untrustworthiness of actors, which I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you how resonant that is right now. It also gets major plus points for its dedication to representation and diversity on screen, which again is more important now than ever.
Paddington 2 is full of moments of quirk and creativity. Inventive action set-pieces, like a thrilling Ratatouille-esque foot chase, sit snugly against moments of Chaplin-like slapstick comedy. Said comedy is silly, but in that charming, silent film type way as opposed to the over-the-top way that plagues a lot of modern family entertainment. The production design is also a thing of wonder. The use of chocolate box colours and stylised set/costume design is reminiscent of the work of Wes Anderson (just watch the jail-set scenes and try not to think about The Grand Budapest Hotel). Yeah, Paddington 2 is as much a visual treat as it is an emotional one.
You might scoff at the idea of a film about a CGI bear (a sequel, no less) being called one of the best films of the year. But if you can, just for 2 hours, leave your snark at that door and give yourself to this wonderful, wonderful film. Paddington 2 deserves, nay, demands your attention. It’s almost guaranteed to have you leave the cinema with a face-wide grin pasted to your face. It’s the light at the end of the tunnel that has been this tough, dark year.