Photo: COURTESY OF YANNIS DRAKOULIDIS / FOCUS FEATURES
Say “cheese!” – or is it “feta!” » ?
You know it’s a weird time for moviegoers, where legacy sequels from the 2000s and 2010s are now old enough to have their own sequels. The concept dates back to at least the 1980s, with Psycho II (1983) and The Color of Money (1986) reintroducing iconic characters from culturally significant films of the past to a new generation of viewers. However, this 21st century resurgence of an 80s trend (not the only example of such a phenomenon, of course) has seen a new wrinkle unfold as the 1920s progresses: from legacies to legacy.
First Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008), then Dial of Destiny (2023). The highly anticipated Toy Story 3 (2010), then Toy Story 4 (2019) for good measure. Wes Craven’s swan song, Scream 4 (2011), then the echoes Scream (2022) and Scream 6 (2023). Now, a third My Big Fat Greek Wedding. A common theme pervades these nostalgic sequels to respectful reboots: they offer only mere bits and pieces of what made the originals so interesting. It’s like a sort of cinematic equivalent of Plato’s allegory of the cave.
If you don’t remember the events of My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2 (2016) – or, as many will say, if you’ve simply never seen them – you have no reason to feel bad. I just caught up on the sequel earlier this year, and I’ve already forgotten most of what happened. The final entry makes no effort to catch you, except for an opening montage of stills from the previous two films seen hanging on the wall. (It always makes me laugh to see this kind of thing. Who took these photos? No one had a camera in this scene!) Instead, it’s straight into the action: the patriarch of the Portokalos family, Gus (Michael Constantine) is dead, and his death is imminent. her wish was that her daughter Toula (Nia Vardalos) would give her diary to her three childhood friends in Greece.
Are you accompanying Toula on a trip? Husband Ian (John Corbett), daughter Paris (Elena Kampouris), brother Nick (Louis Mandylor), aunts Voila (Andrea Martin) and Frieda (Maria Vacratsis) and Aristotle (Elias Kacavas) — a young man with ambiguous relations with the Portokalos. Is he the son of a family friend? The ex of Paris? A plot convenience? It’s never quite clear and it never really matters. He’s there to be associated with Paris, as evidenced by his intro scene and every scene he shares afterward.
Upon arrival, they meet Victory (Melina Kotselou): the would-be mayor of Gus’ hometown who turns out to be one of the six remaining residents after the area’s water supply dries up. What follows is not unlike the later acts of previous films: alternating haunt scenes and bits galore. (And, inevitably, a wedding ceremony.) Jokes miss more often than they hit, and moments of sincerity lack the desired emotion nine times out of ten, but who’s most at fault here? Writer-director-producer-star Nia Vardalos, who has only directed a feature film once in her career, almost 15 years ago? Or me, the person who expects more from this trilogy that arrives two decades after a first opus that was very sufficient on its own and would certainly have been better off on its own?
If I feel like I’m talking about Vardalos, it’s not intentional. To its credit, My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3 has its saving graces. Namely the characters of Corbett and Martin. Ian never had much to do on this show other than stand there and keep his cool, but Corbett does it so well. (See also: his character Aidan Shaw in Sex and the City, Sex and the City 2, and And Just Like That… They keep bringing him back for a reason, you know.) Likewise, Martin makes stealing scene is effortless. It’s not surprising either. Her acting skills have been known since her SCTV days in the late 1970s. “I’ll be your favorite,” she tells Victory outside the airport. Unsurprisingly, she’s right.
Aside from the frantic encores and the slightly pleasant holiday vibe, there’s a mess here with the tech components. The editing is both jerky and rushed, leaving little room for emotional beats (not to mention punchlines) to resonate with audiences before the film quickly moves on to the next scene. Camera coverage is similarly inconsistent at times, with some shots looking so out of place they look like shrapnel from hastily deleted scenes. The sets and locations look convincingly inhabited – thanks in large part to filming on location in beautiful Athens and the surrounding countryside – but that can only take the viewer so far.
Should this movie exist? Were sequels ever needed to get out of the record-breaking, critically acclaimed, sweetly sweet 2002 film? The answer is obviously no. However, this isn’t the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the DC Universe, the Star Wars Universe, or some other billion-dollar franchise spanning dozens of theatrical and streaming releases that require you to keep track of each new addition to the canon. Those who wish to see the latest developments in the life of the Portokalos family will show up (and will also show up to find out more after that – myself included). Those who don’t won’t.
There is nothing at stake here. Just 90 minutes of harmless diversion, as tasty as a fast food gyro – and yet, somehow, still vaguely appetizing.
