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With all of this
seemingly endless misery around us, Paddington 2 is
like a breath of oxygen in a room dense with farts. In fact, the film is so
joyful and heartwarming that it should be listed as a fucking gateway
drug because when they fuck am I ever going to be as happy as I was
whilst watching it again? Maybe if I went back and watched it whilst
eating a marmalade sandwich? And then again if I watched it after
getting all giggly having smoked some cannabis? That all sounds nice,
doesn't it? Cut to a few months down the line though and suddenly the
only way to feel even close to 'good' is when you're watching the
little bear get up to his mischief as you cover yourself in vomit
after injecting heroin straight into your own fucking eyeballs. I
don't know if you've seen the first Paddington movie
but that in itself was probably one of the best kids movies since
Mary Poppins. Asking a
filmmaker to repeat and improve that quality would be
like watching somebody spin straw into gold and then expecting them
to do it again, but with only Trumps scraggly fucking pubic hair to work with. Somehow
it seems that they have actually managed it with Paddington 2
though, with this sequel
being the Empire
Strikes Back of kids movies...
because it's a sequel that improves on the original, I mean... Not
because they've added an extra bit of incest to it.
The
film essentially tells the story of how Paddington is
wrongly accused of stealing an old book from Jim Broadbent's antiques
shop. The shop's alarm is triggered causing the police to turn up with
several cars and a van in order to catch the culprit. Although, fuck
me, you can tell this is a fantasy version of London... In London, the
police only normally turn up if you've got a knife, and even then it's
because it didn't originally belong to you until somebody left it lodged in your fucking neck. If the police had a report that somebody the
size of a small bear had stolen a book then I think they'd just be
relieved that some fucking youth was actually trying to educate
themselves. During the subsequent court case, Jim Broadbent
passionately declares that, like everybody else who knows Paddington, he refuses to believe that the little bear is actually guilty.
He's still pressing charges though, it seems. I'm pretty sure that
considering it's both his shop that was broken into and his book that
was stolen that if he really didn't believe Paddington was
responsible then he could have the matter dropped and allow the bear
to solve the case himself. But “fuck it”, I guess he thought,
“watching my friend get sent down is a fun day out”. Not only
that but ten fucking years that poor little bear gets sentenced to
for supposedly stealing a book. That's more than the actor Rip Torn
got for the time he drank his body weight in booze before
accidentally breaking into a bank with a gun after confusing it with his
own house.
Throughout
this whole time, we as an audience know that the actual thief is a
local and failing actor as played by Hugh Grant. And I have to say
that I don't think that Hugh Grant has actually ever been better than
he is here. In the way that his character exaggerates his success
whilst displaying an over the top and obviously fake charm, it's as
though he's found Harry Potter's Gilderoy
Lockhart, clubbed him to death, cremated the body, and then snorted
the fucking ashes. In fact I don't think that Grant has had this much
fun since he was caught nuts deep in a prostitute back in the
mid-90's. He's also the reason that this film is slightly better than
the first. It's not that he makes a better villain than Nicole Kidman
originally did.. although he definitely does. It's more that his
character's story is better integrated into the overall story than
hers was. In the last film, we saw Paddington acclimatising himself to
life in our country and
there was Nicole Kidman trying to kill him. However this time,
Paddington's jail time situation and Hugh Grant's evil plan are
intrinsically linked. Although for a split second I did worry that
the message of the movie was a little downbeat... In the way that
Paddington is framed for a crime due to his desire to earn money and
the fact that Grant's criminal plan is as a result of his career
having dried up, it's as though the movie is telling us that honest
people can go suck a dick for all their efforts are worth.
Except
this isn't the case, obviously. Not in the world of Paddington
anyway. Paddington 2
is a film of optimism in which,
like a viable Brexit plan, the word cynicism quite literally doesn't
exist. As the story progresses it becomes more apparent that the real
message is that we should look for the best in each other and
prioritise kindness over everything else. In this grim bitch
of a world in which Trump tweets for war, and Theresa May's loose grip
on her job is about as disgusting as Louis C.K.'s tight grip on his own
shrivelled ginger cock, it seems that Paddington 2 is
the film we need. Thor: Ragnarok director
Taika Waititi recently came under some criticism from a bunch of
online fuckwits that didn't approve of the comedic direction in which
he took his franchise to which he responded, “Agreed. The world is
too hilarious right now. There's too much laughter in real life for a
movie to be fun. Down with happiness!” And
obviously he has a point. The first Paddington movie
was released around the time of the Syrian refugee crises and told us
that we should treat immigrants with compassion. Rather than learn
from this however, we seem to have descended even further to the point
that the film is now just trying to get us to look for the best in
any fucking human. I do know that Paddington isn't real but we
literally don't fucking deserve that bear.
Paddington himself is a creature of unlimited kindness and despite having once been accused by an ex-girlfriend of not having one, every single thing that the furry fucker does quite literally melts my stupid fucking heart. This sequel is funny, charming, and in one sequence, borderline devastating. I won't ruin too much except to say that after a fairly stress free ninety minutes the film then goes full Casino Royale on us in a sequence that was more traumatising than most horror movies. Kind of like if Toy Story had concluded with Woody stripping Buzz naked, tying him to a seatless chair and then whacking him in the bollocks until he agreed that he's not really Andy's new favourite toy. Like that. Except you know.. slightly less inappropriate. Not that this is a criticism obviously. Everything gets resolved quickly enough and I doubt too many children will one day be describing the scene to their therapist. In fact, it's a compliment that a children's film can illicit so much worry from some cynical, closed-minded prick such as myself. At this point, a third Paddington film has been confirmed and assuming it at least retains its director Paul King then I can't wait. I have no idea what fucking state the world will be in by the time it's due for release. I suspect I'll be living in a fallout shelter, in an immigrant-free and poverty-stricken Britain, as I allow celebrities to jizz on me for money... but either way I know I'll be ready for more Paddington and I can't wait. Thanks for reading and see you next time motherfuckers.
Paddington himself is a creature of unlimited kindness and despite having once been accused by an ex-girlfriend of not having one, every single thing that the furry fucker does quite literally melts my stupid fucking heart. This sequel is funny, charming, and in one sequence, borderline devastating. I won't ruin too much except to say that after a fairly stress free ninety minutes the film then goes full Casino Royale on us in a sequence that was more traumatising than most horror movies. Kind of like if Toy Story had concluded with Woody stripping Buzz naked, tying him to a seatless chair and then whacking him in the bollocks until he agreed that he's not really Andy's new favourite toy. Like that. Except you know.. slightly less inappropriate. Not that this is a criticism obviously. Everything gets resolved quickly enough and I doubt too many children will one day be describing the scene to their therapist. In fact, it's a compliment that a children's film can illicit so much worry from some cynical, closed-minded prick such as myself. At this point, a third Paddington film has been confirmed and assuming it at least retains its director Paul King then I can't wait. I have no idea what fucking state the world will be in by the time it's due for release. I suspect I'll be living in a fallout shelter, in an immigrant-free and poverty-stricken Britain, as I allow celebrities to jizz on me for money... but either way I know I'll be ready for more Paddington and I can't wait. Thanks for reading and see you next time motherfuckers.
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