Long Overdue Men in Black 3 Review

  The long-belated second sequel to one of the most memorable blockbusters of the 90s arrives to understandably low expectations. Everything about the build-up to Men in Black 3 screams of marketing cynicism, and well-publicised problems with production indicates the likelihood of an unsatisfying mess. While MIB 3 certainly has problems, it also pleasantly surprises, with performances far stronger than they could have been, and a genuinely affecting emotional core.

  The original film brought the audience into a dark, eerie, comedic, fascinating world, with serious potential for expanding its universe into a thriving franchise. This potential was then promptly squandered with a lazy and witless sequel. There is little chance that any attempt to recapture the magic a decade later will completely reverse the franchise’s woes, but number three at least makes a decent attempt.

  After some awkward early scenes, the writers wisely stop trying to re-kindle the long-faded onscreen chemistry between Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones, and instead send Smith back through time to the 1960s, where he must team up with Agent K’s relatively less grouchy younger self, played with spot-on accuracy by Josh Brolin, who mixes K’s trademark laconic competence with understated warmth. They have to foil a new alien antagonist, a time-travelling genocidal thug played by Jermaine Clement, who, shockingly, manages to make his one-note retread of the first film’s Edgar into a genuinely menacing figure in its own right. A truly intimidating roar, backed up by some lethally unpleasant biology, isn’t enough to make Clement’s Boris the Animal into a villain for the ages, but it more than does the job for this movie.

  Predictably, the plot is rickety and the holes are agape, but the charisma of the stars elevates the better scenes and makes the damp squibs (like the Men In Universe’s sadly unfunny take on Andy Warhol) at least bearable. The film also has a secret weapon, in the form of Michael Stuhlbarg as Griffin, a benevolent alien with the ability to see multiple possible futures. Introduced as little more than a cryptic plot facilitator, Griffin could so easily have been unbearably cutesy and sentimental character, with his anorak, his puppy dog eyes and his unworldly rambling. However, he manages to be adorably sweet rather than sickly sweet, with some touching meditations on the wonders of probability in human history (there is some excellent dialogue during a quiet scene in an empty baseball stadium) that gives the film an engaging humanity that raises it above its un-promising origins.