MY BIG FAT GREEK WEDDING 3: 2 STARS. “the franchise is baklava!”
The “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” franchise is baklava in theatres this weekend, bringing with it some familiar faces—Nia Vardalos and John Corbett return as married couple Toula Portokalos and Ian Miller—and a load of Grecian-Americans stereotypes. Question is, on the third outing, is there anything fresh left for the franchise to say or is it a Greek tragedy?
Twenty-one years ago the original “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” told the silly and saccharine story of happy couple Toula and Ian. “There are three things that every Greek woman must do in life,” says Toula in that movie, “marry Greek boys, make Greek babies, and feed everyone.”
That Ian wasn’t Greek was a problem, but nothing that couldn’t be overcome with some slapstick and sweet-natured good humour.
Two movies later, the light tone continues, but the family is mourning the loss of Portokalos patriarch Gus (played by the late Michael Constantine in the first two films), a man so proud of his heritage that he can trace any word back to its origins in Greek… even the word kimono.
In death, he’s still proudly Greek, leaving behind a last wish that his family visit his childhood village and reconnect with their roots. At the family reunion Toula and Ian, with daughter Paris (Elena Kampouris) and Aunt Voula (Andrea Martin) in tow, explore the village, meet Gus’s old friends and pass along a journal he wrote about his life’s journey.
“This is one reunion we’ll never forget,” says Toula.
They may never forget the reunion, but the film is not memorable. The original movie was sublimely silly with just enough naturalism to keep the story earthbound.
Those days are gone.
If the good old Funk & Wagnalls was illustrated, the definition of the term “broad” could easily be accompanied by the poster for “My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3.” Everything about Vardalos’s film—she wrote, directed and stars in it—is stretched and overblown. Whether it is the humor, the cloying sentiment or the manipulative undertones of nearly every scene, it is all played so broadly it’s amazing she didn’t have to shoot the whole thing with a wide-angle lens to capture the puffed-up vastness of it all.
It’s a shame because there are some intimate moments that, if played with even a hint of restraint, could have pulled at the heartstrings. Instead, we get souvlaki jokes, banal schmaltziness and choppily edited tourism bureau style footage. Also (SORTA KINDA SPOILER), this may be the first film with the word “Wedding” in the title, to have a wedding, but not show the actual ceremony.
Still, franchise fans may get a kick out of spending some time with familiar characters. Andrea Martin has all the best lines, and the cast performs with enthusiasm. But is enthusiasm enough? Nope, but “My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3,” for better and for worse, much worse, tries harder than any other movie this year to make you love it.