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My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2

Portokalos Toula and Ian Miller shake the idea that their beloved teenage daughter, Paris, would leave Chicago to attend university elsewhere. While hoping that their little family can remain together for as long as possible, replicating unwittingly costumes uncomfortable tribes of Toula origin, use to attend mass every little event and to discuss any private occurrence in a group, a new urgency It opens right on the front of mom and dad Portokalos. It seems, in fact, that Maria and Kostas found not legally married and Mary, tired of decades of bickering, considering the hypothesis to seize the opportunity to pounce.
Thirteen years separate this second chapter from the first, unexpected and ran successfully. Nia Vardalos, director, screenwriter and actor, has been waiting just to be sure you get your hands on a script that was at the first stop, or perhaps to be certain that we had lost the memory in the meantime, and so the same formula and the same cast might seem cool no matter what. A level of formula, in reality, Vardalos does something more, or bolus injection. The poetic background, not really ultramodern, shall be that with irony: “My family is overwhelming, I risk from time to time to leave the pens, but at least you will do a good laugh,” he says between the lines the Toula from the screen. Thirteen years later, however, his character has more to do only with parents and uncles, but also with enlargement that has helped to create, and finds himself in the place of the filling in the illustration of the phenomenon of so-called Sandwich Generation . The “passion” of the protagonist, who suffers from side to side in the name of the addiction and the ethnographic practice, would make a second tragic figure fantozziana, were it not that, deep down, nothing the threat directly and not c ‘ is nothing that can not be solved with a little ‘tacky but sincere romance.
The belly of the greedy grecitudine, it is ridiculed here, with the affection of un’insider grumbles loudly, but was then able to chew and digest everything from Yankee son to gay son, the exhibition reveals the extravagance more conventional of returnees and the source of shame is apparently relegated (the “facade” of the home).
We know that we are faced with the most classic of romantic comedies, spread over three generations to thicken the plot and grease the store, we know that, beyond the bickering, there are no real snakes relatives nor any kind of lurking bite, but it is a pact at the start and will not prevent us to let us amuse and soften from too much ado about nothing.



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