"THE PINK PANTHER" (1963)

Starring

David Niven

Peter Sellers

Robert Wagner

Capucine

Claudia Cardinale

Directed by Blake Edwards

113 minutes

Arguably the film which cemented Peter Sellers’ status as one of the world’s leading comic actors, The Pink Panther can be regarded as really rather important. That is to say, if you wanted to hold that opinion I wouldn’t try to stop you. Mainly out of lethargy. Still, it has to be said that The Pink Panther is a film famous for a set of firsts and introductions rather than holding any sort of reputation based on its own merits as a standalone feature; it was the first film to be inhabited by Inspector Clouseau, it spawned a series of cinematic comedy capers and its opening animations took off on their own to transform the Pink Panther himself into a cartoon legend. Quite a few achievements for what is in essence a two-hour wine party in the mountains caught on camera. The story is loosely about somebody trying to nick a diamond and somebody else trying to stop him. That’s it.

The Pink Panther’s pace can best be described as languid. Long dinner discussions are held which serve no purpose other than to attempt to give third dimensions to a cast of really quite paper-thin characters. The beginning is a series of choppy scene changes setting up the plights of the central figures, yet when the action moves to the Swiss mountains the plot seems to curl up and go to sleep for about forty-five minutes, leading to lots of people wandering about their hotel rooms doing very little and David Niven spending a very long time in attempting to seduce Claudia Cardinale’s Princess Dala (and not really succeeding). For the life of me I can’t even remember exactly why Inspector Clouseau decides to go up there anyway and I’ve seen it about four times now. The Pink Panther itself doesn’t actually get mentioned during the first hour beyond the pre-credits sequence. And there’s even an unprompted Italian musical number placed about halfway through to bump up the running time.

And yet it’s precisely this lack of momentum that gives The Pink Panther a soothing and relaxing quality that makes it perfect evening viewing, perhaps even complemented by a glass of sparkling wine and a box of Thornton’s chocolates. It’s by no means a laugh-a-second comedy but then it’s not trying to be. Indeed, it’s more a romantic candyfloss feature, originally intended to spearhead a film series for David Niven’s suave and sophisticated Sir Charles Litton (which probably explains the long Dala seduction sequence, as otherwise he doesn’t really have a lot to do) AKA the Phantom. It is safe to say that it lights up whenever Sellers is on screen but even when he isn’t it remains nothing less than pleasant, enjoyable fare. The decent budget, stunning sets and lovely location footage helps considerably in this – after all, when you’re running you don’t need to worry about what’s passing you by but if you’re strolling you’d better be doing so in the right surroundings. The Pink Panther, with a story that takes place on the snowy mountains of Switzerland, in a lush ski lodge and within a princess’s mansion, always looks sleek and sophisticated.

But, of course, it’s the actors you get to populate your locations that really make or break it all and fortunately The Pink Panther doesn’t have a single bad one among them. To begin with we of course have the alleged star David Niven, who, as we all know, had the film taken from him by Peter Sellers in front of his very eyes; but he’s still on top form, sipping champagne and twirling a cane with the best of them. I said in my Spanish Fly review that by the time the Spanish-set comedy was made Leslie Phillips was getting on a bit and it no longer seemed feasible that lots of young, lovely beauties would be falling head over heels for him. I’ve read some reviewers stating the same of Niven here but to be honest I reckon he pulls it off simply by virtue of the fact that he’s so damn charming. He’s the witty gentleman you can’t help but like and admire, sensitive without being effete, funny without being arrogant. It must be said that Niven looks infinitely more comfortable doing quiet candlelit scenes than farcical slapstick but fortunately most of that is left to Sellers anyway. Usually paired either with Capucine or Cardinale, Niven remains the central figure of cheeky civility and it’s a very depressing exercise comparing his vibrancy here to his ill and sickly form in the later Trail of the Pink Panther (in which he was so ill that he had to be dubbed by an impressionist).

Seeing as Sellers is still my favourite actor you won’t be surprised if I give him the highest praise but I doubt anybody could fail to be amused with his debut as the accident-prone Inspector Clouseau. I feel I really ought to put my neck out and admit that I’m generally not a fan of the Pink Panther series, which mostly comprises a set of increasingly outlandish and special effects orientated movies produced throughout the seventies and eighties (with three made after Sellers had died); their humour is heavy handed and unsubtle, and appetising only in small doses. By the time of Revenge of the Pink Panther Sellers barely even needed to turn up to the studios to animate Clouseau as half the time the character was being played by assorted stuntmen anyway, and any dialogue he had to give was strangulated beyond coherence by that hideous accent (though it’s a credit to Sellers that it never sounded affected – horrible but never affected). However, the Inspector Clouseau of the 60s barely holds any similarity to the walking catalyst for mayhem that he’d later become during the 70s revivals. In both The Pink Panther and A Shot in the Dark (perhaps one of the funniest films ever made) Sellers maintains a neutral, controlled French accent which makes him far funnier as a result – most of his lines are delivered in a weary, put-upon fashion with occasional lapses into desperate optimism whenever a step is taken closer towards catching the Phantom (the criminal mastermind responsible for the snatching of a great number of jewels – stop it). Even the physical comedy here is of a far different and more refined quality to that of the later films. Whereas disbelief had to be firmly suspended, stretched and unfeasibly contorted in order to accept Clouseau blowing up costume shops, falling through floorboards and floating over the streets of Paris dressed as Quasimodo with an over-inflated balloon stuffed up his back, here there’s no such problem. When the direction and performance combines to make the spilling of a glass of milk laugh-out-loud funny you know you’re in good hands.

Leading lady talent is embodied by Capucine (who later turned up in What’s New, Pussycat?) and Claudia Cardinale, though the latter is actually dubbed throughout as the Italian born actress, unlike her contemporary Sophia Loren, barely spoke a word of English. I only found that out this morning when having a look at IMDB; it’s certainly not noticeable on screen. Now of course I want to know who did the dubbing because whoever she is she has a heavenly voice. Still, all is well and good here and Capucine throws herself into the farce with great enthusiasm whilst still retaining ever ounce of dignity, and Cardinale is dashed gorgeous too. American Robert Wagner, who’s probably very well known for appearing in something or other though I’ve never seen him in anything beyond this, is quite a fun presence and manages to transcend the berk of a character he’s given, making him quite likeable at times (most other actors would have made the "young, overconfident and oversexed" George Litton unbearable to watch, I’m fairly sure). Interestingly, despite the 70s Pink Panther entries being firmly American, here we have a high number of British actors inhabiting star positions (Niven and Sellers) and popping up in assorted supporting roles, including Brenda De Banzie, Hancock regular Mario Fabrizi and the always wonderful John le Mesurier as a prosecuting lawyer in the concluding trial scene. Taking all the honours, though, is the vastly underrated Colin Gordon, an actor who typified the moustachioed, tweed wearing English middle class types who take Britain with them wherever they go – and if you don’t know who he is, dig out your Doctor Who: Lost in Time sets and take a look at The Faceless Ones again (he’s the cynical and exasperated airport Commandant who ends up being the most entertaining element in the story). Gordon, as Clouseau’s underling, Tucker, gets all the typical dry wit and understated annoyance ("That’s my beer, old man!") and, by remaining unflappably civilised and resolute throughout, ends up being one of the definite highlights of the film, especially when dressed up as a court jester. A favourite moment comes in the form of a throwaway joke kept in the background of a shot when Clouseau threatens to shoot the lock off of a door, only for Tucker to lean forward with a "Don’t do that," whilst he calmly opens the door himself.

The Pink Panther takes much of its inspiration from the typical French bedroom farce and there’s a long slamming doors / men under the bed / concealing yourself in the shower sequence in the second half which is probably one of the best examples of the genre seen in a film (high praise indeed considering that bedroom farce usually falls flat when filmed, working only when put on the stage). Only once does the slapstick seem misjudged – when Niven is apparently run over by Wagner on skis, and that’s only because it’s directed in a horribly twee, "shot of horrified onlooker wincing, cut to shot of man lying down unconscious, ha ha ha," way – and the set pieces which provide the film’s climax are amusing enough to raise some smiles (though for my money the bits of Sellers, Gordon and a panto zebra avoiding a fireworks display are far funnier than the car chase which follows). There’s nothing exceptionally dazzling about the direction here but it’s never boring (unlike Blake Edwards himself – if I never read another "Peter Sellers was nothing without me!" interview I’ll be a happy Bus). And a Henry Mancini musical score is always a thing to cherish. The Pink Panther theme is perhaps one of the most recognisable pieces of music ever and with good reason – it’s just brilliant, isn’t it? The Italian song, "It Had Better Be Tonight", is rather nice too, sung by an appealingly curvaceous lady by the name of Fran Jeffries (and becomes considerably less interesting when sung in English by a quartet of males later on in the film).

Well, as usual, I’ve rambled on far longer than any of you probably wanted me to but seeing as I barely get the time and inspiration to sit down and type out another entry for Lady Levesque I reckon you should get your money’s worth. Probably. The Pink Panther isn’t hilarious, nor is it ever energetic, and as a result you won’t often find a glowing review of it; people like it but just can’t be bothered to write and say so. I’m happy to have readdressed another balance with this little collection of paragraphs and to have finally been able to mention Colin Gordon and David Niven in this section at long last.

"The virgin queen?"

"I’m not a queen."

"Heh. That’s only half an answer."

Score out of Ten