Writer-director Wes Anderson is an acknowledged artist but an acquired taste. His latest will please his ardent admirers while drawing accusations from others of lavishing more attention on the props than on the characters.
We generally think of movie franchises as dwindling in quality as the sequels mount up. But occasionally, as with this third trip to “Madagascar,” just the opposite is true.
The first sequel took things from bad to worse. The second brings them back to merely bad.