THE PINK PANTHER / Shawn Levy (2006)

February 9th, 2006 by Scott Marks

The Pink Panther (2006)

Directed by: Shawn Levy

Written by: Len Blum, Steve Martin

Genres: Comedy, Crime, Mystery, Remake

Cast: Steve Martin, Kevin Kline, Jean Reno, Emily Mortimer, Henry Czerny, Kristin Chenoweth, Roger Rees, Beyoncé Knowles, Phillip Goodwin, Henri Garcin, William Abadie, Daniel Sauli, Jean Dell, Anna Katarina, Nick Toren

Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1

Running Time: 91 min.

Always the first to carp about remaking good movies, imagine my shock and glee to report that, while it doesn’t come close to matching the madcap majesty of Blake Edwards’ best, the laughs were consistent.

Blake Edwards masterminded the popular series in 1963 and wrote and directed all but two of the seven sequels. Mr. Edwards is credited, but had no hand in PP ‘06’s creative process, which is probably a good thing. The first four Panther films were all artistic and financial successes. Peter Sellers was peerless as the ridiculously self-confident, selectively-thinking inspector. When he died in 1980, Edwards refused to let Closeau go with him. The series hit rock bottom with the ghoulish Trail of the Pink Panther that resurrected Sellers through outtakes and deleted scenes from previous versions. Subsequent attempts to pumpfresh life into the franchise proved unwatchable.

Steve Martin and co-writer Len Blum (Stripes, Private Parts) designed a prequel and instead of simply tracing the original, PP 06 gets its laughs by playing off its predecessor’s strengths. PP 63’s funniest gag, in which Sellers topples after resting his palm on a whirling globe, is given an almost equally rib-tickling spin. Seller’s fractured French accent is present, but his habit of turning “gold bowls” into “gild balls” is only once hinted at as Martin forges his own inappropriate inflections.

Next to Sellers, one the Panther films most essential ingredients is tortuous physical pain inflicted upon any and all characters, and there is no shortage of it here. Inspector Closeau was born hot on the heels of From Russia with Love’s release and the Kennedy assassination, and at their best, the series captured that shadowy transition period between Camelot’s innocence and the aggressive cynicism of 007. (A pistol marked “Sleeping Darts” has campy exposition written all over it.) The filmmakers acknowledge Closeau’s sixties box office rival by casting recently spurned 007 suitor Clive Owen as tuxedoed secret agent 006. Of the four replacement Closeaus (Alan Arkin, Ted Wass andthe indefensible Roberto Benigni also had their turns) Martin is the George Lazenby of the bunch. (From where I come from, that’s a compliment.) He obviously has profound affection for and appreciation of Edwards’ blueprint, and both his performance and screenplay pack a lot of laughs.

Not all of it connects. The third act gags become more disjointed and the curtain joke needed work. Director Shawn Levy is content to have fun. Second unit Paris looks lovely, but too often his pace and timing lag behind Martin’s performance. Think of all the brilliant comedians forced to work with lead-footed directors (A. Edward Sutherland, Norman Z. McLeod and the appropriately named Sam Wood come to mind) and you’ll realize that Martin & Levy are just another example of the actor as author.

I warn you, if you have zero tolerance for slapstick stay home and enjoy King of Queens. If you don’t go in expecting the robust flavor of the originals, this taste of pink might just tickle your nose.

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