To quote Gene Wilder’s Willy Wonka, the news that a third Paddington film is in the works shines like a good deed in a weary world. Hailed as one of the best family movies of modern times, Paddington 2 has amassed cult fanbase, and it’s easy to see why. From the earnest aphorisms of Paddington himself to the glory of Hugh Grant’s narcissistic, preening Phoenix Buchanan, the film is marmalade-packed with wit and warmth. Grant even suggested, in his customarily dry way, that it was perhaps the best film he had ever been in. But in the shadow of such a success, is a third film a mistake, especially if it is to be completed without Paul King in the director’s chair?
Reports suggest that many of the first two films’ other key creatives will be involved. Yet few threequels hit the same emotional resonance as, say, Toy Story 3, or conclude an epic saga like Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. Indeed, Hollywood history shows us that the construction of a threequel is precarious, and often ends in anticlimax.
The balance between grounding the film in what came before and offering novel emotional or narrative tension is the major challenge when revisiting the same characters (as exemplified by every Star Wars film). In the animated world, Shrek the Third was by no means a complete washout but by the time we get to the end of the story, the eponymous ogre has “learned” the same emotional lessons three films in a row. Without the liveliness of its predecessors – or of Jennifer Saunders covering Bonnie Tyler – it struggled to make the same impact.
If a threequel cannot offer character growth, it often seeks to raise the stakes, and can thus fall victim to its own excesses. X-Men: The Last Stand, Spider-Man 3 and Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End all threw everything bar the kitchen sink at their nominal finales, introducing broader canvases, bigger action scenes and heftier CGI budgets to little avail. The Matrix Revolutions’ reliance on spectacle dulled the electricity of the original, and The Dark Knight Rises took a step away from the more grounded tone that characterised Batman Begins and The Dark Knight.
The caveat is that an expanding scale can work, while character growth across three films isn’t always a necessity. The characters in the Lord of the Rings hardly change across the trilogy.
While Michael Bond’s books serve as the inspiration for the Paddington films, there is no grand meta-narrative to bring the trilogy together. The third instalment will have to rely on the same neat writing that underpinned the first two films, and succeed on its own terms. Naturally, Paddington 3 will not be dealing with apocalyptic stakes and, if in need of inspiration, could learn from the successes of the Bridget Jones and To All the Boys trilogies. Both were able to bring sweetness without being saccharine, and gave their series a satisfying emotional and narrative arc when viewed as a whole.
While Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, for instance, was able to succeed by amplifying what audiences liked about Raiders of the Lost Ark and subtracting what they didn’t in Temple of Doom, no amount of vocal gymnastics could save Pitch Perfect 3 from feeling a hollow retread of its quirky, refreshing original. By injecting a new emotional arc through the introduction of Henry Jones Snr, Steven Spielberg’s threequel was able to make the most of the groundwork that had been laid before, while revealing more about a character we had grown to love.
In reality (and despite the fact that fourth instalment appeared in 2019), the Toy Story trilogy will be the gold standard that Paddington aims for. The Pixar films succeed by working as three perfectly balanced, standalone stories that slot together and become more than the sum of their parts.
It may sound daunting, but a return to Paddington’s picture-postcard London, coloured in Wes Anderson-esque pastels, could be just what we all need. There’s so much fertile land still to cover. Did Aunt Lucy enjoy her stay? Is Knuckles’ tea room still thriving or did he fall back into a life of crime? Will Phoenix invigorate a post-Covid West End with his one-man show? Fine … we’ll take a quadrilogy instead.
