Lloyd Evans

Why is the BBC using Paddington to remember Her Majesty?

Broadcasting the films seems like an odd tribute

Why is the BBC using Paddington to remember Her Majesty?
(Credit: Getty images)
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Here comes Paddington – again. Earlier this year, to celebrate her platinum jubilee, the Queen agreed to be filmed taking tea with Paddington in a sketch whose final punchline was a joke about marmalade sandwiches. Her Majesty told the bear she always carries one in her handbag, just in case. 

On film she was excellent, unshowy, watchable but not predictable, with an obvious knack for comedy. The short film was doubtless inspired by the Queen’s acclaimed performance alongside Daniel Craig, as James Bond, during the opening ceremony of the 2012 Olympics. But there’s a big difference between a British spy and a Peruvian bear.

For Bond to meet the Queen was a witty conflation of fiction and reality. It seemed natural for 007 to appear at Buckingham Palace because he bears the rank of Commander in the royal navy and he serves the crown with faith and courage. But how did Paddington win the honour of tea with the Queen? He’s not a dignitary or a foreign emissary. He doesn’t lead a faction or a professional body. He hasn’t done a single noteworthy thing in his life because he’s a wild animal who belongs in a circus, or a zoo, or a lab where vaccines are tested. So his make-believe encounter with the Queen stretched fiction to the point of disbelief. The Bond sketch, by contrast, worked seamlessly because it unified two fields of our culture that are already closely allied.

Perhaps the Palace wanted to use Paddington as bait to introduce youngsters to the Queen. Advertisers are desperate to turn children into brand loyalists as early as possible and Her Majesty’s team may have been swayed by their advice. But the Queen of England already has a special place in the hearts of children. Monarchs and palaces are a permanent feature of the cartoons, folk-tales and pantomime shows that kids hungrily devour. Reverence for royalty is instilled in youngsters as soon as they hear their first bedtime story. Paddington, on the other hand, has no obvious links to monarchy.

The films have turned Paddington into a global phenomenon and the royal family risks nothing by its association with the winsome little marmalade addict. The first movie was an exquisite domestic comedy about a helpless foreign creature adopted by a prosperous London family. Some read it as a post-Brexit sermon: ‘newcomers are welcome.’ Others saw a more patronising message: ‘migrants are pets.’ 

The second film departed from the domestic location and set itself up as an action-adventure tale. This seemed slightly inappropriate for a helpless beast with no special physical or mental powers. But the visual allure and the mischievous wit of the films were irresistible.

The BBC has succumbed to bear-mania and announced ‘special broadcasts’ of the movies. The first will air this Saturday and the sequel is scheduled for Monday evening, just hours after the funeral. Is this the best way to commemorate the longest reign in British history? The Queen’s link with the Peruvian stowaway is only a few months old and yet the BBC is treating Paddington as if he were a Knight of the Garter or a patron of the Queen’s favourite charity. 

An internet search reveals a curious link. According to Digital Spy, the third Paddington movie will enter production later this year. Which is rather disheartening news. It looks as if some clueless BBC executive has been duped by the owners of the Paddington franchise. The late Queen is being used to promote a bear movie.

Written byLloyd Evans

Lloyd Evans is The Spectator's sketch-writer and theatre critic

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