Let’s first establish that I really liked the Paddington and Paddington 2 films, and at the time, I even raved that the sequel improved on the first film in so many ways. There was visual inventiveness, sight gags, good, understated acting, plus charm in big dollops of honey and marmalade. 

For me, Director Paul King had embraced the franchise and created cinema magic. So while listed as a producer, I noted how the directing mantle had been turned over to Dougal Wilson for this third installment that opens in cinemas this Wednesday, and this was Wilson’s first feature film. 

The premise for this outing is simple, we get a prologue about Paddington as a cub in the forests of Peru, guided by his Aunt Lucy; then we are whisked to London to watch the Brown family who adopted Paddington, getting on in years. Ben Whishaw is still voicing Paddington, while Hugh Bonneville is pater familias; but Emily Mortimer assumes the role of Mommy Brown from Sally Hawkins. The children have now entered that awkward adolescent age, so you’re not going to get much charm from them anymore. 

A letter from the Mother Superior (Olivia Colman) from the Peruvian forest retreat for old bears arrives in London, relaying how Paddington’s Aunt Lucy (Imelda Staunton) is pining for him, and seems distracted in her old age. This makes our London family have the great idea of flying to Peru as an extended family, and that’s the adventure. On the Amazon, a boat captained by Hunter Cabot (Antonio Banderas) and his daughter, become the family’s chosen means of transport. That there’ll be a quest for Dorado gold and treasure, that ancient Peruvian temples and ruins will provide Indiana Jones-type scenarios and visuals, all add to the intended parade of spectacle and adventure.

But something is missing in this film. It’s still sweet but no longer as funny. It’s cute and sentimental, but the emotions feel forced and no longer natural or genuine. The abundance of plot twists and turns only seems to serve as the ton of padding I refer to in our title. 

Olivia Colman is playing her nun as over the top as can be, and it works in a macabre way like her overworked grin is plastered onto her face - and it is funny. Banderas as the louche river captain is a stiff caricature, a far cry from how Hugh Grant was super-effective in the second film of this franchise, giving it a dark edge that came out of nowhere. 

It’s clear to me that this third installment groans under the weight of how well-executed the first two films were. So much of this third film feels like padding and stretching. I, for one, will look back at Paddington 2 as the zenith of this franchise and pray that if there is a fourth, it will surprise me and bring back the marmalade magic. I hoped to find it here, but while still serviceable, it’s got too much padding when we want something dependably solid.