THE RETURN OF THE PINK PANTHER (1975: Dir. Blake Edwards)
There are very few in my performer's pantheon who hold the place of Peter Sellers. Although he has been dead for 35 years, to fans like myself his eccentric collection of characters are still living and breathing in their own perfectly preserved worlds of pure mirth. No matter the quality of the film, Sellers was always in top form, exhibiting a seamless schizophrenic personality that left him utterly possessed by the part he was playing. He would often describe his own lack of a distinct persona, and how he saw himself as empty vessel to be filled by the various film roles he had chosen. Consequently, all of his performances have merit, but there are a few classics that rise above the fray to be counted as indelible masterpieces of film comedy. These five roles are the stuff of legend for Sellers addicts. When the names of Fred Kite (I'm All Right Jack), Dr Strangelove (Dr. Strangelove), Hrundi V. Bakshi (The Party), or Chance the Gardener (Being There) are evoked, one can't help but smile with remembrance, but when the character of Inspector Jacques Clouseau is mentioned, all at once are heard the joyful echoes of laughter from an entire generation. For such a legendary comic creation, it is surprising that this oafish officer of the law was almost not portrayed by Sellers at all. Peter Ustinov had originally been cast in the role, before bowing out at the last minute. Sellers was called in as an inspired replacement and the resulting film, The Pink Panther (1963) became Clouseau's smash debut. Envisioned as a supporting player to David Niven's suave jewel thief Sir Charles Litton a.k.a The Phantom, the idiot Inspector's persona didn't really come into full focus until the second and some say best film of the Clouseau series, A Shot in the Dark (1964). Building on past experience, Sellers now painted in the idiosyncratic details of this arrogantly oblivious bumbler, thus allowing the baroque gags devised by director Blake Edwards to take on a comical complexity, without losing sympathy for the hapless Frenchman. Although Sellers enjoyed a volatile though productive working relationship with Edwards, his increasingly mercurial behaviour and boredom with the character precluded any further Clouseau adventures. As a result, the late Sixties and early Seventies saw Sellers' popularity in near free fall, with one film after another making little or no connection with audiences. So in an eager attempt to regain former glory, he reunited with Edwards to make what is arguably the most important film in the Clouseau franchise. It is hard for today's audiences to remember what The Return of the Pink Panther meant at the the time to Sellers' loyal and hungry fans. Not only did he bring back a beloved character from his illustrious past, but he took the time to further embroider this already inventive caricature. Clouseau (Mark II) now talked in a side-splittingly grotesque accent, mangling his spoonerism-laced dialogue with bizarrely memorable pronunciations. Always eager to get into someone else's clothes, Sellers also indulged his personal propensity for elaborate disguises featuring a rogue's gallery of colourful costumes, grotesque facial hair and ridiculous putty noses. It was a full-time job channeling Sellers' unique creativity, so to provide contrast to all the craziness, Edwards cleverly re-cast the Charles Litton role, eschewing the light comic persona of Niven in favour of the more menacing presence of Christopher Plummer, well paired with a cheerfully vivacious Catherine Schell as Lady Litton. Much-loved supporting players from the previous film also returned, particularly the hilarious Herbert Lom as Clouseau's exasperatedly slow burning boss, and the acrobatic antics of Burt Kwouk as Clouseau's martial-arts practicing manservant, Kato. Credit must also be given to intrepid stunt coordinator Joe Dunne, whose death defying deeds are a visceral example of "going beyond the pain barrier", a slapstick style Blake Edwards learned from Laurel & Hardy director Leo McCarey. Audiences marveled at the outlandish physical feats that were the Clouseau trademark, a challenge that had to be topped for each subsequent film. It made for a potent comedy cocktail eagerly enjoyed by moviegoers around the world, where The Return of the Pink Panther earned back eight times its production costs. With a grand flourish Sellers had resurrected a near moribund career with his biggest hit yet. Capitalizing on this well-earned windfall, Sellers and Edwards immediately went into production with The Pink Panther Strikes Again (1976), in the opinion of many an even funnier sequel that fell oddly short of Return's stupendous success. Emboldened, Sellers continued his run of good fortune with a final appearance as Inspector Jacques Clouseau in Blake Edwards' Revenge of the Pink Panther (1978), the highest grossing entry yet and my own personal favourite, as it featured some of Sellers' most outrageous masquerades and a ripping finale in Hong Kong. By this time, Sellers' work schedule revolved almost entirely around his most famous character but his fragile ego could no longer share any success with Edwards, the series' artistic co-creator. Before his early death at age 54 of a heart attack, Sellers had intended to make one more Clouseau film, Romance of the Pink Panther, to be directed by former collaborator Clive Donner (What's New Pussycat?). It would have been an unusually intimate setting for the Clouseau character, at last falling in love and perhaps living happily ever after, but alas, it was not to be. Blake Edwards would pay tribute to his troubled former comrade when he resurrected Clouseau one more time for the posthumous Trail of the Pink Panther (1982), using deleted scenes from the previous films. Some thought it desperate and in bad taste, but I personally believed Edwards in his assertion that he had just wanted the public to enjoy every priceless morsel of Clouseau magic. Befitting its cut and paste construction, Trail was a box office disappointment. However, in those treasured scenes when the late Peter Sellers was on screen as cinema's most beloved trench coat-wearing twit, Inspector Jacques Clouseau came alive once again, and for a brief time, one could bask in the healing gales of merriment bestowed upon us by a singular comedic genius. DVD REGION 1
