Paddington (2014)

Not entirely sure what prompted me to give Paddington a go yesterday. Actually, no, that's not true; I'd been feeling miserable and wanted to get back in touch with my six-year-old self, despite not being able to remember whether she'd been a particularly happy soul, either. In any case, Paddington Bear brings back memories - the smell of the mobile library, and afternoons on the sofa watching shonky animation made from cardboard cutouts. It feels like another universe, and I suppose it sort of is; true, this means I'm getting old, but it's all swings and roundabouts, I guess - on the upside, cartoons these days are way better.

The film actually isn't a cartoon; the only animated part is Paddington himself, voiced by Ben Wishaw sounding as though he's impersonating the incomparable John Finnemore. Following a catastrophic storm that kills his uncle and sends his aunt to the Home for Retired Bears, Paddington sneaks aboard a freighter and makes the journey from Darkest Peru to London. He's searching for the explorer who befriended his aunt and uncle decades previously, but mostly, he's just looking for a home. Eventually, stranded on the platform at Paddington Station, he's taken in by the kindly Mrs. Brown (Sally Hawkins) and her rather more reluctant family, but only for one night. It's a kids' film about a bear wanting a permanent place to live; I'm sure you can get the rest.

I didn't particularly enjoy Paddington, but then, I'm not sure I'd want to be the sort of adult who does. The heavy reliance on slapstick is just fine for the little ones, and I'm sure there's plenty of adults out there who don't mind seeing England in general and London in particular being treated like some sort of cutesy theme park. Me, I just found myself quietly fuming over yet another British film about a staid, settled group being gently shaken up by an outsider who nudges up against the boundaries of social acceptability. Even worse, however, was watching one of my heroes toppled, as the mighty Peter Capaldi attempted to tackle a London accent and landed up sounding like Dick Van Dyke failing a screen test for a Guy Ritchie gangster flick.

With all that said, however, Paddington isn't afraid to wear its central message on its grubby blue sleeve. True, it's a film about kindness, and bravery, and about it being okay to be different, but so are a lot of kidflicks. What sets this one apart is its insistence that immigration is a good thing - it takes the time to provide explanations of evacuation and the kindertransport when many of the target audience probably won't have living relatives who remember those times. In an age where some would try to convince us that multiculturalism is a bad thing, Paddington isn't afraid to stand up and encourage tolerance and understanding, and this trumps any other qualms I might have had.

(Banksy, Bristol)