‘Marigold Hotel’ still endearing second time around

Starring Maggie Smith, Judi Dench, Dev Patel and Richard Gere. Directed by John Madden.

Rated PG for some language and suggestive comments. Check listings for theaters. 2 hours, 2 minutes.

Bottom line: A script with more suds than the original

They’re baaack! “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel” was such a worldwide sleeper hit, and its British-Indian cast so beloved, that it’s no surprise that three years later they’re back in Rajasthan.

If the bloom at first seems a bit off the lotus, returning director John Madden (“Shakespeare in Love”) and screenwriter Ol Parker, who also adapted Deborah Moggach’s 2004 novel “These Foolish Things” for the original, soon heat up the curry with rousing Bollywood-style musical numbers, surprising plot twists and Richard Gere.

“Lordy Lord, have mercy on my ovaries,” man-hunting Madge (Celia Imrie) says as the silver fox walks into the hotel.

Fans will recognize holdovers like Sonny’s morning roll call (“a most valuable precaution”) to ensure none of the venerable guests have “checked out” overnight, and witty, rude Muriel (Maggie Smith), gentler and less of a bigot but still zinging snarky one-liners: “Just because I’m looking at you when you talk, don’t think I’m listening — or even interested.”

If the original was about the pensioners’ peaceful retirement on the cheap in Mother India, the sequel finds everyone locally employed. Douglas (Bill Nighy) is a tour guide with an earbud to prompt him in his tentative spiel, Carol (Diana Hardcastle) and Norman (Ronald Pickup) tend bar at the expat club, Evelyn (Judi Dench) is a fabrics buyer, and Muriel co-manages the hotel so well there’s only a single vacancy for new arrivals Lavinia (Tamsin Greig) and Guy (Gere).

To further his scheme to outsource old age, eager owner Sonny Kapoor (Dev Patel) dreams of a second hotel, then a string of last resorts across India. But to secure financial backing from Evergreen, an American retirement company, he and Muriel must journey to San Diego to pitch the manager (David Strathairn), whose motto is “Leaves don’t need to fall.”

As a result, newly engaged Sonny has little time for fiancee Sunaina (Tina Desai). His aristocratic widowed mother (Lillete Dubey) hasn’t met her but doesn’t approve. The script has more suds this time, but the senior ensemble carries it off with British restraint, and we haven’t even mentioned the romantic maneuverings, wonderfully clamorous score or spectacular Indian wedding.

The British actors, who’ve known each other forever and played together on stage, give the film its seriocomic heart, but it’s exuberant Patel, a born comic, who sparks the picture with his nervous energy, confident palaver and joyous dance moves. They make Travolta’s Tony Manero look as if he’s almost standing still.

If there’s another character, it’s the sensory assault of India, with her riotous colors, teeming humanity and traffic crowded with elephants, cows, bikes, cars and buses captured on camera by Ben Smithard. No wonder Dench says she completely lost her heart to the country.