Review
Culture
Film & TV
7 min read

Two terrible travelogues in search of their storylines

Yaroslav Walker would rather get to a monastery than recommend these threequels.
A family arrive at an overnight stay, enter a room and look around uncertainly
The cast of My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3 look for its storyline.
Universal Pictures.

Welcoming a baby boy to my family (pause for applause) has left my September rather busy, and I couldn’t face anything too meaty and intelligent and subtle in my viewing: I wanted some simple fare that would be both entertaining and familiar. I was, therefore, delighted to see that September was a month of ‘threequels’. I am a big fan of both My Big Fat Greek Wedding and The Equalizer; they are uncomplicated and inviting, funny and charming, doing what they do (romantic comedy/culture-clash/action/man-against-the-world) efficiently and good-naturedly… 

Their third instalments fail spectacularly. 

My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3 is neither charming nor funny, and it hardly has any wedding in it. The first instalment was a delightful example of a classic American movie trope: culture clash between the first and second generation immigrant communities that make up the country. Tula Portokalos falls in love with a handsome WASP, while her family want her to marry a nice Greek boy. As they prepare to marry, Nick (the fiancé) has to assimilate to the Greek way of living (and really rather likes it) and Tula comes to learn to be far more accepting of her heritage and her family. Part two is less funny and less engaging – a convoluted plot about the mother and father of Tula never being truly married, and having a later-life wedding – but revisits the old favourite characters, and introduces a daughter to take up the ‘growing-pains-culture-clash’ dynamic (Tula repeating her father’s iconic line in a nice way).  

My Big Fat 3k Wedding has now divested itself of all humour and winsomeness. Gus (the patriarch) is dead, and his widow may have dementia. It was his dying wish that his children take his old diary and hand it over to his three childhood friends. Its Holiday on the Buses then. Its ‘we-have-run-out-of-ideas’ so let’s go abroad. It’s a travelogue rather than a rom-com, focused on giving you an lovely panoramic shot of provincial Greek living. That aspect of it is fairly spectacular: the cliffs, the sea, the distressed cottages with just the right amount of cracked plaster and whitewash…ah, 90 minutes of that would’ve been lovely. Instead, the truly great character of the Greek countryside is constantly sidelined by turgid dialogue and performances that are either flatter than a pita or a gurning mess better suited to children’s television. There is one good joke delivered in such a staccato as to miss the punchline, half of the original characters are absent, and the wedding comes out of nowhere and doesn’t have any impact. 

The truly frustrating thing is that there seems to be no central theme, no thrust, no point. The first was a classic rom-com, with elements of culture clash and ugly duckling and mad families. The second was about aging and how parenting changes you. 3k Wedding has too many themes and none. A storyline about having a parent with dementia, ignored. A story about grief, barely given the time of day. A story about forbidden love and refugees and the migrant crisis, there only when convenient. A story about bucolic provinciality coping with a 21st century world, there only in snatches. The closest thing to a coherent theme is that of culture and soil and homeland having a pull and a power on even those who grew up across an ocean, and that is a genuinely interesting idea to explore…then a gurn and a non-joke and a shot of a goat…its rubbish. 

1.5 stars. 

The Equalizer 3

A serious looking man in black sits pensively on a carved chair.
The Equalizer will not be happy with this review.

A travelogue at the start of the month and one at the end with The Equalizer 3. 3qualizer is a second reuniting of star Denzel Washington and director Antoine Fuqua, who made some cinematic magic with the first film. Denzel is Robert McCall, an expert government assassin who can kill you within 9 seconds, and that’s without a weapon in his hand. McCall starts the first film adrift, his wife has died and he is retired and now he has no direction or purpose. His spark of life is reignited when he meets a young prostitute, takes pity on her, and proceeds to kill every Russian mobster who has ever even looked at her.  

It is glorious. McCall’s obsessive-compulsive precision is turned into a joyous conceit where he can say exactly how long it will take him to kill every person in the room. It is pacy, it is non-stop, with a simple yet effective plot and a mesmerising Denzel performance (when is he anything less!?). The second instalment is less effective, with a more meandering plot, but still good fun. McCall has decided he will find meaning in his later life by putting his skills to the service of the underdog. He is The Equalizer, cutting villains down to size and bringing justice to the lowly. He takes on a fatherly duty with a young man who is in danger of joining a gang, and he executes all the bad men who killed his oldest friend.  

3qualizer is…in Italy. Why is it in Italy? No idea. Perhaps McCall has caused too much property damage in the US. McCall is sitting in a chair in a wine cellar in Sicily. A bad man walks in. He informs him how many seconds it would take and then dispatches the rotters. As he is leaving he is shot (in the buttocks?) by the young son of the chief baddy. He drives as far as the Amalfi Coast where he is saved by a local policeman and a local doctor. Then…he goes for walks. He enjoys Italian coffee. He meets the locals. He eats pasta. He becomes both dull and unbearably quirky at the same time.  

There is no real plot. Mafiosi terrorise the town for no discernible reason. McCall kills them. More Mafiosi come. McCall kills them. Two…two action scenes after the wine cellar, that is all I counted. When the film ended I had to do a double take and wonder if I’d fallen asleep. I’m not suggesting the first two films were Barry Lyndon, but they had a plot with some twists and turns – 3qualizer has a whole lot of scenery. Like Greece, the Amalfi Coast looks gorgeous, but I didn’t pay my money to watch an extended message by the Italian tourist board.  

There’s a side-story about a CIA agent cutting her teeth on the fallout of the Sicily shootout…why? Mysterious as McCall’s original presence there. Nothing makes any sense or connects and it's just as turgid as 3k Wedding, which is far worse a sin for an action movie to commit. So you know, both questions are answered at the end of the film and the answers relate to nothing, NOTHING we see in the main body of the film. 

McCall’s story ends with him being embraced by the villagers and him embracing them…? I HAVE NO IDEA! It is unclear and sloppy, and (perhaps because of the boredom he must have felt while filming) Denzel Washington has turned McCall’s dangerous precision into a series of tics and twitches which are simply alarming.  

1 star. 

Two very disappointing cinematic outings which, despite being very different genres, make the same errors. Perhaps because they seem to be scrabbling to explore the same theme. What is home? What does it mean to be home and know you are home? What does it mean to be comfortable and accepted and know yourself as yourself in the place that you are? Tula seems to be trying to understand this and explore the entire concept of the ‘immigrant mindset’ by going to Greece to see her father’s village…I think this is what she is doing, again, the film makes it hard to understand its own themes. McCall is a man who has no home – his career was spent travelling (alienated from his home soil), his wife is dead (alienated from his family), and he is a man who has killed too many people (alienated from himself). Perhaps a small fishing village will give him the simplicity of life that can save his sense of self. 

Both Tula and McCall start to unravel their existential crises by fleeing the big city, embracing quieter and humbler surroundings, and coming to understand the nature of community that is symbiotic and self-giving and joyous (something McCall has never had, and something Tula has struggled with in terms of her own family). In both, there is something of a monastic pattern. Coming away from distraction and metropolitan living and building a community of reciprocity in the wilderness, this is the aboriginal pattern of life for the monk and the nun – from St Anthony in Egypt to St Benedict in Italy, Christians in the East and West have benefited greatly from the prayers and example of holy men and women who live the ‘religious life’. 

The great insights of monastic living – simpler living of work and rest in intentional community where one lives from the whole as much as for the self – are having a bit of a come-back in secular society. Whether it is the meditative practice of the Desert Fathers entering mindfulness manuals, or the Rule of St Benedict (ordering the life in community for a Benedictine monk) being used to train managers in major companies, the wisdom of monasticism has endured even into the 21st century post-Christian world. Tula and McCall find some peace in this wisdom; they don’t embrace the religious life, but they do find comfort and stillness and real joy in a life that slows its pace and opens itself up to a community of service and sacrifice and love. 3k Wedding might symbolise this with the presence of an actual monk in the film…doubtful, but one can hope. 

This is an insight far better expressed by reading about monasticism. Do that, rather than watch these films. They’re rubbish.

Review
Culture
Film & TV
Monsters
War & peace
6 min read

The Fantastic Four taught me about family, truth and the end of the world

The whole film has a grown-up sophistication about what really matters.

Krish is a social entrepreneur partnering across civil society, faith communities, government and philanthropy. He founded The Sanctuary Foundation.

THe Fantastic Four stand on a podium
Walt Disney Studios.

I’ve just been to see the The Fantastic Four: First Steps, and honestly, I think it’s brilliant. It’s my favourite Marvel film in a long time. I might have to go all the way back to Guardians of the Galaxy to find something as funny, engaging, and moving. There’s a lightness to it, but also a surprising depth. 

First of all, the setting. It’s done in this beautiful, kitschy 1960s style—retro aesthetics, clean design, soft colours. It’s subtle, not forced, and it gives the whole film a kind of grown-up sophistication. Then there’s the casting—each of them is just spot on. Vanessa Kirby plays Sue Storm as an independent, intelligent, maternal powerhouse. And Pedro Pascal’s Reed Richards—brilliant but vulnerable—brings something pretty human to the role of a superhero. Even through the layers of CGI animation, Ebon Moss-Bachrach brings pathos and quiet dignity to the role of Ben Grimm aka The Thing.  

But what really grabbed me wasn’t just the style, the humour or the casting—it was the themes. At the heart of this film are some big, timely questions: about family, about sacrifice, about truth—and about how we respond when the world is falling apart. 

The power of sacrifice 

Here’s the big plot point—and this is not a spoiler because it’s in the trailer—the Fantastic Four are about to become the Fantastic Five. Sue Storm aka The Invisible Woman is pregnant. She portrays well that beautiful mix of nervous excitement that every expectant parent knows. But because she and Reed Richards aka Mr Fantastic are becoming parents with superpowers and gamma radiation in play there is an additional fear and uncertainty about their unborn child. In the middle of this domestic intimacy things escalate. A threat emerges—Galactus, a cosmic entity capable of devouring entire planets. Sue and Reed are given an impossible ultimatum: to relinquish their unborn child to Galactus and save the world or keep their child and see the world destroyed.  

The film could have taken the easy route and made the unborn child symbolic or vague. But instead, it takes this child seriously. There’s a very beautiful moment where Sue uses her invisibility powers to reveal their baby as a fit and healthy little boy asleep in her womb. He is real, precious and non-negotiable.  

The heroes will not even consider sacrificing the unborn child. They are willing to give up their own lives. They are willing to risk everything they have. But they won’t hand over their child to save the planet. 

That hit me hard in a culture where the idea of sacrificing a child—or at least, the rights of the unborn—has become politically and ethically contested. People take a range of views on the issue, but here is this blockbuster superhero movie saying: “No. Even if the planet is at stake, this child matters.”  This is a brave, countercultural stance that surprised me.  

It is also particularly poignant given a view that is becoming more widespread: some people are suggesting that in order to save the planet, we should stop having children. Clearly they genuinely believe the world would be better off without future generations. But that logic feels deeply broken. It is as if we are trying to protect the planet from children, instead of for them. 

What this film offers is a total reversal: the child is not the threat—the child is the hope. And for Christians, that resonates. Because at the heart of the gospel is the story of a child—born into a broken world, not to destroy it but to save it. And while Sue and Reed won’t give up their child to save the world, the Christian story is that God did just that.  He was willing to do what this superhero family wouldn’t—sacrifice his Son to save us.  

Truth and politics 

As if the personal and familial dilemma was not enough by itself, the film also raises important political questions. The Fantastic Four are given the ultimatum about saving the world in the privacy of a meeting with Galactus on the other side of the universe. When they finally make it back to earth, they are asked to make a press statement and told to keep it short. 

I found myself willing them to be quiet, to protect the privacy of their decision to save their baby, to save themselves the inevitable backlash, but instead they choose honesty. They tell the world the truth about the impossible decision they had to make—and why they made it. 

In today’s political landscape, that kind of transparency feels rare. We’ve seen moments—during COVID, during the cost-of-living crisis, even around immigration and the rescuing of Afghan families—when the public hasn’t always been trusted with the full picture. Leaders hide behind spin, afraid to speak plainly, or take responsibility. 

In the film we see what happens when the Fantastic Four choose honesty, even as a baying crowd surrounds their base. A speech is made that displays vulnerability, integrity, and courage. It reminded me that truth isn’t just about facts—it’s about trust. The best leaders are those who invite people into difficult conversations, who treat others as grown-ups, who inspire hope rather attract blame.  

How do you face the end of the world? 

It is not unusual for a superhero movie to navigate a global catastrophe, but this time planet earth is given some warning. The Silver Surfer comes as a herald ahead of the impending doom, warning of Galactus’ plan to devour the planet, and challenging people to use their time well, to celebrate life and show love to their families. The Surfer is almost a John the Baptist figure, although the prophet’s advice was repentance not just holding your loved ones closer. God was not coming to consume the earth for his own gratification, but to make the ultimate sacrifice to deal with the problem and reconcile humanity to himself.  

A headline in the Daily Express the other weekend claimed: “Global Crises send GEN Z to church” It does seem that for some young adults there is renewed interest in spiritual things in general and Christianity in particular. Perhaps it really is because the world feels like it is about to implode. With climate crisis, political chaos, and global conflict, people are looking for hope, purpose and salvation in real life as well as in happy endings to movies.  

Fantastic Four really made me think - while also making me laugh about car seats, pregnancy tests and giving birth on a spaceship.  I left feeling encouraged. Not because it offered easy answers, but because it reminded me that love—real, sacrificial, inconvenient, dangerous love—is still heroic. Truth matters. Children matter. Andd all the more so when faced with a brewing apocalypse. 

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