Mr Plot and Miss Tale were teenage sweethearts. They met at Storyville High School and inseparable, but were viciously cursed by a jealous school nurse, bitter from a recent split. Notwithstanding this setback, they realised that they were soul-mates, got engaged and were married in the following summer. Everyone wished them well, and spoke of the time when the sound of little Plots would ring out around their new house. Unfortunately, however hard they tried, no little Plot arrived. The ancient curse of the school nurse rang in their ears. They paid to see the most expensive doctors on Harley Street, but noone could help them. It turned out that not only was Mrs Plot infertile, but so was Mr Plot. It was hopeless, and because of an unfortunate conviction for marujiana possession in Mr Plot’s teenage years they couldn’t even adapt, sorry, adopt a little Plot from someone else. So they lived together with sadness and bitterness building up inside them. Would the curse ever be lifted? Would they work through their differences to find new purpose in life? Or would they part acromoniously with Mrs Plot joining a convent to sing mournful songs of grief and missed opportunities in the Swiss Alps?  TO… BE…CONTINUED.

There. You were there, weren’t you? Living it. You want to know what happens next? Sure you do. You see, even I can come up with a story…. and I’m not a “professional Hollywood scriptwriter”. 

Why then, I ask you. Why oh why oh why oh why oh why do the scriptwriters of Pitch Perfect 3 – Kay Cannon (the original PP screenwriter) and Mike White (“The Emoji Movie”) – think that this dreadfully lazy set of loosely connected scenes represent a viable basis for a movie? Is the view from the guys who green-lit this thing that the crowd that loved “Pitch Perfect” and the pretty dreadful sequel “Pitch Perfect 2” will pay their box office money regardless? Let’s advertise the hell out of it and cash in our chips before word of mouth gets out!?

Film Title: Pitch Perfect 3
When the chips are down. The Bellas invade a local casino.

In this ‘adventure’ the Bellas go on a US Forces overseas tour (though this is not really explained until they suddenly appear in Spain – what? how?). The really REALLY annoying commentators John (John Michael Higgins) and Gail (Elizabeth Banks, “Love and Mercy“) tag along, filming some lame half-arsed documentary about them until even the scriptwriters get fed up of that tedious plot-line and it quietly withers on the vine.

Making America Fat Again. Rebel Wilson championing the fuller figure.

Fat Amy (is this still an acceptable nickname in 2017?) also runs into her nefarious father again after many years (John Lithgow, “Interstellar“, “Daddy’s Home 2“).  Lithgow – sporting a wonderful Australian accent – is about the best thing in the film. The “plot” (sorry, I can barely bring myself to use that word) revolves around Daddy trying to get something of Amy’s that he needs, for reasons – given the yacht he sails – that makes no sense whatsoever. Will he succeed? Will the Bellas get selected to headline with DJ Khaled (who is apparently a thing, but I’ve never heard him on BBC Radio 2)? Does anyone really care?

John Lithgow as Amy’s Dad Fergus. About the only classy thing in the movie.

As my wife pointed out, it’s a bit unfortunate that the only Bellas who are not stick-thin size zeroes are the obese and annoyingly loud one, the black lesbian one and two that nobody knows why they are there. The message to the target female teen audience is clear: if you want to be “in” you’d better diet… hard.  Nice.

Looking for all the world like sticks of candy-cane. The size 0 Bellas.

What can I say that’s vaguely nice about this monstrosity?

  • Some of the acapella song and dance numbers are fun enough, particularly “Toxic” that opens the film;
  • The closing number by Anna Kendrick (“Table 19“) is quite appealing;
  • There are also about 5 funny lines that made me smile: not laugh… smile; 
  • It’s also a relief that John and Gail, unlike in “Pitch Perfect 2“, only come out with one xenophobic/racist comment in the film (and that’s about the French, so that hardly counts 🙂 ).

And I’m out…

A musical high-spot for me: Kendrick’s closing number.

There will be no doubt die-hard teenage fans who will love this one too. But my wife was a great fan of the first film (as indeed was I); she tolerated the second one; but even she declared this to be “Aca-Awful”. It’s not as toxically dreadful as “Dirty Grandpa“… what could be? But, seriously, life is too short for this. 

Fad Rating: Ff.