Paddington in Peru review – a very well-executed threequel

Box fresh from [checks notes] masterminding a bunch of John Lewis Christmas ads, debut boy Dougal Wislon makes for a strangely apt choice to direct the third instalment of the Paddington franchise in the absence of Paul King (who directed parts one and two and then nicked off to do Wonka). Premium seasonal television advertising offers a perfectly-primped package of whimsical humour, 110 per cent proof sentimentalism and an easy-on-the-eye message espousing a love that transcends family class and race. Which is just like the Paddington movies.

In all seriousness, parts one and two have for some reason been elevated to the level of canonical modern masterworks, even providing a zen punchline to 2022’s meta Nic Cage comedy, The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent – a lofty achievement in and of itself. And while I’m not denying that both are fine pictures, it may be down to a lack of decent competition that they are held in such rabidly high esteem.

Where parts one and two were tales of a plucky immigrant conserve addict finding his feet among the raffish rapscallions of olde London town, this new one sees the furry red-hatted one suddenly forced to scarper back to his homeland of Peru – his adoptive human family, the Browns, in tow – to search for his ageing Aunt Lucy who has gone AWOL from her bear nursing home. All that remains is her cracked John Lennon eyeglasses, and a strange wristband containing a bear-shaped pendant.

Fair play to screenwriters Mark Burton, Jon Foster and James Lamont for trying something a little different this time around, mounting a madcap jungle escapade that plays like an Ealing riff on Heart of Darkness. Olivia Colman was born to play a toothsome singing nun whose violently rictus grin suggests that The Lord may not be her true paymaster, and she duly dings every line reading out of the park. Antonio Banderas, meanwhile, rolls up as Hunter Cabot, a swarthy sea captain whose schooner is tricked out with an old fashioned gramophone a la Herzog’s own opera fiend, Fitzcarraldo.

Yet Cabot is in fact another Herzog/Kinski creation, the glory-seeking adventurer Lope de Aguirre, as both are obsessed with the prospect of discovering and then looting the mythical land of El Dorado. Very stealthily, Banderas has set his stall as one of the finest comic performers in modern film, and his detailed, physically-dexterous work here continues down the path he laid with 2021’s Official Competition and 2015’s The SpongeBob Movie: Sponge Out of Water.

I sometimes have nightmares about the fact that we almost had Colin Firth as the voice of Paddington. No disrespect to the Firthmeister, but that would’ve been a casting foul-up of franchise-damning proportions. Thankfully, Ben Whishaw is on hand to deliver some of the strongest voicework for an animated character out there, channelling our hero’s adorable sense of uncorrupted sincerity with the perfect mix of humour and compassion. Frankly, I would pay good money to have Whishaw read the audiobook versions of Henry James novels in his Paddington voice.

As the gang wend their way down river towards an ancient gateway, they must contend with the local flora and fauna, plus the fact that their local tour guides might just have some ulterior motives – Cabot himself is a confused, multi-generational manifestation of the D’Ascoyne clan from Kind Hearts and Coronets. Yet where parts one and two tapped into the specific culture and diverse social make-up of London (and, by extension, most European cities), the depiction of Peru here is rather thin, relegated to one stock footage-esque crowd scene of some people wearing chullos, and then just endless green, unpopulated jungle.

This is more of an action movie than its predecessors, and Wilson executes the set-pieces well, but perhaps without that added layer of eccentricity that gave Paul King his name. While there are passages of uncertainty and twists that take their good sweet time to arrive, things come together beautifully, and a finale that combines a series of clever emotional call-backs and another heartening plea for human empathy that’s worthy of only the finest John Lewis ad.

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