Paddington 2

And Prison Cafeterias

I have enough movies to keep this whole thing going for a couple of years. As such, to limit my writing and maintain sanity, I earlier resolved to write about sequels-franchises altogether, provided they were released within this substack’s frame of reference (August 2014-March 2023). If I were writing about “John Wick”, I’d be addressing the first three movies. But Paddington is different. Paddington gets his own entries, because Paddington is a LEGEND.

As if being a Paddington movie wasn’t enough, “Paddington 2” is a prison movie! I was psyched to learn that, and the follow our bear into the carceral world. But I really appreciated the charmingly low stakes that lead to this. Turns out, he was only shopping for a gift for his aunt, a pop-up book to emphasize what London looks like to a bear (Aunt Lucy having remained in the jungles of Peru). But the book is stolen by, boo, hiss, Phoenix Buchanan, a faded thespian of stage and screen ably personified by acidic scoundrel Hugh Grant.

Grant is an interesting type, an innately likable and funny performer who has survived a reputation as being excessively rude and confrontational behind the scenes. He’s been known to have candid opinions on some of the more dubious movies he’s done (I hope someone has trolled him with the daily question “But seriously, have you heard about the Morgans?”). I assume he’s got nice things to say about “Paddington 2” since Rotten Tomatoes’ flawless algorithm has established the movie is literally equal to “Citizen Kane”. But how did he feel on the set knowing his competition was a little teddy bear? Whatever antagonism he felt, it translates well. Following in Nicole Kidman’s footsteps, Buchanan is a twisted and vindictive adversary for our hero bear, and Grant is the perfect bastard to be eventually foiled by Paddington.

But your boy Paddington has to rule the prison first! Serving a ten year sentence, he ends up mismanaging the laundry, turning the prison uniforms pink (shades of Joe Arpaio, who I previously discussed here. Somehow, Paddington rebounds from this faux pas by forming an alliance with the hardcore Knuckles McGinty (Brendan Gleeson). McGinty rules the kitchen, but Paddington’s marmalade sandwich recipe takes the cafeteria by storm. Oh, to be served marmalade sandwiches in my prison! Even though he builds relationships in prison, the sense of loss he feels is real. Never forget, Paddington is something of an undocumented immigrant. His nights in his cell, gazing out the window, feels differently for me. I remember being incarcerated on my first July 4th, in my cell, looking out a slightly-tinted three inch wide window to see fireworks in the sky, going off in what felt like a million miles away.

Two strands buoy the picture into the third act. First, Knuckles and the crew plan an escape, and Paddington ends up being a necessary component to the plan. The Brown family, however, remain convinced that Phoenix Buchanan is the culprit, and intend to clear Paddington’s name. Which gives Hugh Bonneville and Sally Hawkins something to do, always a plus. This is a subplot that allows for the appearance of a few bright lights of British comedy, including Richard Ayoade. America, why did we not make Ayoade into a star? His book “Ayoade On Top”, both an autobiography and an in-depth look at the Gwenyth Paltrow comedy “A View From The Top”, was maybe the funniest book I read while I was down.

This is a movie with good guys, bad guys, and in the case of a few inmates, maybe guys that are somewhere in between though it’s hard to really tell. But, befitting the worldview of director Paul King, there are happy endings for nearly everyone, even the blackhearted narcissist Phoenix Buchanan. I selected this charming movie for Thanksgiving week not for any specific plot-related reason, but because this is a movie that brings people together, no matter how much of a jerk you are. We could use more movies like that, specifically for our tumultuous Thanksgiving “vacations” with family.

The prison cafeteria serves as a plot point here, though I don’t recommend this movie as an accurate representation of real life. There is a national menu (I wrote about that here) and the inmates in question, after some brief training, have to serve up whatever is prepared in bulk by the inmates in charge. I watched these meals get smaller and smaller through the years. Mostly that’s the doing of the prison officials. But a little bit of that comes from how much is hoarded away and stolen by the cafeteria crew. They’ll wrap up extras – cheese, tortilla shells, meatloaf, anything – and hide it on their body. Yes, the crew is searched on their way out of the kitchen. So yes, that food is hidden in some interesting places. Once it arrives in the unit, it’s sold to anyone who wants to cook on their own, albeit with limited means. I’ve yet to encounter a living arrangement with stoves. My first major prison had microwaves, but my second only had hot water to aid in preparing meals.

You rarely, if ever, got a unique twist on an old meal in prison. Sometimes recipes changed, but never to the extent that they had flavor. The best dishes were sapped of taste, starchy meals overloaded with salt to create the illusion of flavor. I do know in my last spot, we ate next to the officer’s lounge. Inmates from the kitchen who were “well-behaved” (which should immediately arouse suspicion) were allowed to make food for the officers, items we never got to see or taste. I lived with an inmate who worked in this lounge, and for some reason, every day he’d come back loudly speaking of what he cooked that day without ever volunteering to sneak it out for the rest of us. He spoke of lasagna, of fried chicken, of cookies, items we saw maybe every four months (and fried chicken never). It killed me to hear him speak of such things despite no interest in bringing it to us. You never left the cafeteria full, that was certain. And no, they never gave us marmalade sandwiches.