The UK is an absolute mess right now. I almost feel like there are too many reasons why to list them all, but here goes anyway. Our government has had one of the worst coronavirus responses in the world that has resulted in over 120,000 people dead. Politicians would rather give money to their friends than keep the general public safe. People are working too hard for not enough money, and many can’t afford to feed themselves or their children. Our fantastic health service is woefully underfunded and in real danger of being privatised. Real issues like racism, classism, homophobia, and transphobia are being ignored in favour of a so-called “war on free speech” that doesn’t even exist. Our politicians lie, cheat, and steal, and there are no consequences. Our Prime Minister is a raging buffoon who does not deserve to hold office, and the Leader of the Opposition is doing a terrible job of opposing him.
In times as bad as these, we turn to movies for an escape. That’s partly why I started Feels For Reels in the first place: to find solace in cinema when nothing else could help. I’m someone who watches a lot of American movies, mostly just because they’re there and some of them are quite good, but only a British film can quite capture the mood I’m feeling right now. Don’t misunderstand: I love I, Daniel Blake and Sorry We Missed You as much as the next film fan (and speaking of, please check out my wonderful friend’s amazing, award-winning review of the latter film), but right now I need an escape. And that escape comes to me in the form of a bear. A bear called Paddington.
The story of Paddington is the story of a refugee, plain and simple
Paul King’s two Paddington films are about a lot of things: family, love, and home most of all. But they’re also, perhaps surprisingly, deeply political films. The character himself is a not-so-subtle metaphor for the immigrant experience: a character who arrives in London from another part of the world, having been forced to flee his home for a variety of reasons. The story of Paddington is the story of a refugee, plain and simple, and what’s more important is that he goes to show just how important immigration is to the UK.
The first film sees Paddington start to become something of a pillar in the community of which he finds himself a part. The main character arcs of the Brown family are all directly tied to Paddington, as each of them embraces a part of themselves we know they’ve been struggling with: Henry returns to his risk-taking, daredevil former self to save the day; Mary finally finds the face of the hero of her novel; Judy’s language-learning skills are key in locating the kidnapped Paddington; and Jonathan’s mad science experiments underpin the entire rescue operation in the film’s final act. All of these character developments come about because of Paddington: the Browns become closer as a family because of him, and without him to bind them together they may have been doomed to remain their argumentative selves for much longer.
By the time the second film rolls around we see just how integral Paddington has become to his community in Notting Hill: he’s made friends with all but one of the neighbours (we’ll come back to the infamous Mr Curry soon enough) and is actively helping them in their lives. He’s a welcome presence in the day-to-day runnings of the community, helping one neighbour learn the streets of London to help him pass his taxi driver exams, bringing one breakfast every day, and always reminding another that he’s forgotten his keys. We see just how integral he is later in the film when the poor bear is jailed, and Windsor Gardens is all the worse for it: without the presence of Paddington, a refugee who’s found a home in the UK, the community fails to function properly.
But Paddington’s migration messaging doesn’t stop there. A key scene in the first film sees the villainous Millicent Clyde trying to win over the aforementioned Mr Curry by telling him how “It always starts with just one [bear] … Soon the whole street will be crawling with them: drains clogged with fur; buns thrown at old ladies; raucous, all-night picnics.” The language here may be unique to bears, but the message is not: Clyde is discussing the Great Replacement theory.
Paddington is pro-immigration and anti-Brexit – and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise
If you’re not up to date on your racist rhetoric, let me fill you in. The Great Replacement is a far-right conspiracy theory popularised by French author Renaud Camus. Its core ideas are rooted in white nationalism: the theory states that white European populations are at risk of being replaced by non-European people because of mass migration, specifically that of Muslims. It is, of course, complete garbage, but its ideas remain pretty popular with Neo-Nazis. The ideas that Camus puts forward have also trickled down into the wider public: the idea that immigrants and refugees are “coming over here, taking our jobs,” is one rooted in racism (though the conversation about the normalisation of that sentiment is perhaps best saved for another time).
At first glance, it may seem like the inclusion of such ideas in a family-friendly film is absurd. I can almost feel the shaking heads and mutterings of, “Don’t be stupid Matt, of course Paddington isn’t about racism,” as I write this. But it is – and there isn’t a way around that. Paddington himself is a refugee, and in tying a villain to racist, far-right theories, these two films firmly cement their political positions. Paddington is pro-immigration and anti-Brexit – and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
I see these films as an escape not just in emotional terms (as the ending of the second film breaks my damn heart, and never ceases to leave me a tear-stricken wreck), but in political terms as well. Their endless warmth and optimism make me long for the welcoming, friendly version of the UK they present – but that country doesn’t exist anymore. Perhaps it never did.
In the last ten years alone, the UK has been ravaged by austerity, populism, Brexit, rising white nationalism, a depleted NHS, stagnant wages, and a government who, at every possible moment during the last twelve months, have always seemed to make the wrong decisions. The Prime Minister has let 120,000 people die because of his negligence. The Health Secretary acted unlawfully in giving crucial PPE contracts to his friends, rather than to those who could deliver the much-needed goods. The Home Secretary introduced immigration laws that would have barred her own parents from entering the UK. The Education Secretary based a whole cohort’s worth of GCSE results on an algorithm that favoured private schools over public ones. What’s worse than all of that is that there have been absolutely no consequences for any of them.
This wouldn’t happen in Paddington’s version of the UK. The country we see in these films is one for us to aspire towards: a warm, welcoming place that accepts people of all races, genders, and sexualities with no questions asked. Paddington is better than all of us, but his outlook on the world is one for all of us to strive for – because we can do it, we just have a long way to go. In the words of the young bear himself: “If we’re kind and polite, the world will be right.” The world would certainly be a much nicer place if we were all a little more like Paddington.
I think I've been needing to get that off my chest for a while. I've had the idea brewing for a couple of months but couldn't find a home for it, so thought it belonged here! As ever, thanks for reading.
March 8th marks International Women's Day, and I've got something very special in the pipeline! No promises that I'll actually drop it on IWD as I'm very busy right now, but I'll do my best. Beyond that, we'll see what happens! Got a few ideas cooking so let's see where things go.
Take care folks, and I'll see you soon x
Images: StudioCanal
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