MOVIE REVIEW

JAMES Burgess is a 28-year-old performance, drama and theatre graduate. The former Fallibroome High School pupil has attended the BAFTA Film Awards in London every year since 2009. James lives in Macclesfield. Visit his website at jabfilm reviews.blogspot.com. Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again: Universal Pictures, cert PG, 114 mins embarrassment of riches.

For totally unnecessary reasons that become clear all too soon, Meryl Streep – brilliant in the first film even though that was still a mess – is hardly ever in it, a crucial detail which was never made clear in the much over-egged publicity juggernaut beforehand.

This is one of those structurally problematic sequel-prequels, with periodical flashbacks which show how Donna built that ramshackle hotel in Greece (Croatia this time around).

One of the few saving graces is Lily James in the role of young Donna.

She has the appropriate amount of spontaneous, impulsive effervescence that make her empathetic. She steals the sorry state of affairs completely, and with this, as well as Churchill and The Guernsey Literary And Potato Peel Pie Society, both earlier this year, the Cinderella star is unassumingly proving again and again her versatility across many genres – and has a lovely singing voice.

All other proceedings sadly go wrong right from the start.

The tone is borderline spoof most of the time – and needlessly so.

Why for instance, did the fantastic Celia Imrie need to pop up with a completely unnecessary Scottish accent – spinning down the aisles of a graduation in a feather-boa in the endlessly irritating opening number When I Kissed The Teacher?

Two of the best actors of their generation, the exceptionally identifiable Julie Walters and the brilliantly quixotic Christine Baranski, do add warmth and oneliners, but bar one tiny scene, Walters in particular is reduced to a series of slapstick pratfalls when she could’ve again been the movie’s ace, foregrounding the infectious Angel Eyes.

Apart from some clever panoramic editing of sun, sombreros, suspect singing (Brosnan, briefly) and sentimentality – things go from bad to worse when Cher flies in by helicopter, murdering Fernando. Horribly cynical.

I’m not holding out for instalment 76.