| The Pink Panther\r\nStarring Steve Martin and Jean Reno. Directed by Shawn Levy. Written by Len Blum and Steve Martin. Rated PG-13. |
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Jacques Off
Steve Martin plays Inspector Clouseau. Big surprise: It doesn’t work.
By KRISTIAN LIN
Speaking of long-lived cinematic institutions, the Pink Panther series has been around even longer than the Merchant-Ivory partnership (see above). The original movie came out in 1964, but a minor character in the film wound up taking over the series: Peter Sellers’ Inspector Jacques Clouseau, whose name has become synonymous the world over with incompetent investigators. Since then there have been many pretenders to Sellers’ throne, the first being Sellers himself, who blatantly phoned in his performances in the later films. After his death, there was an ill-advised continuation of the series in 1993 with Roberto Benigni. This was back when Benigni was actually funny, so casting him represented at least a chance for success.
On the other hand, what possessed the powers that be to make them think Steve Martin could do the job? He stars in a whole new version of The Pink Panther, and he’s so miscast that it’s perversely fascinating to watch. Great physical comedian though he is, Martin is a performer who consistently goes out of his way to make himself look ridiculous. That makes him exactly the wrong actor for Clouseau, who never sees himself as anything other than a brilliant detective. Sellers played the part with the same jaded, unsmiling, world-weary demeanor that we’ve seen from a million movie and tv cops, which made it all the funnier when Clouseau accidentally electrocuted himself or got his hand caught in a door. Martin has nothing like that kind of gravitas, and his Clouseau is spastic and effortful. Bill Murray might have pulled this off, and an even better choice would have been the French actor who spends much of this movie standing next to Martin: Jean Reno, who’s played lots of jaded, world-weary cops in previous movies yet has also done accomplished work as a farceur. It’s easy to see him as Clouseau, but instead he’s cast as the inspector’s sidekick and given little to do except react to his partner’s wackiness.
Of course, the earlier Pink Panther films weren’t all about Sellers. They were tremendously funny because of director Blake Edwards’ peerless talent for slapstick. Most filmmakers wouldn’t withstand that comparison, and Shawn Levy proves no exception. The director of Big Fat Liar and Cheaper by the Dozen isn’t a total liability, staging some gags that really work. (The one with the cyclist, for example. You know Clouseau will inadvertently hit him in the head, but you don’t see the nearby crepe stand until the cyclist crashes into it, making it go up in a ball of flame.) Still, for every joke that hits home, there are about three that are ruined by their obviousness — when Clouseau starts inspecting two ceramic jugs, you know he’s going to end up with his hands stuck in them.
Remakes and sequels are easy targets for fans and critics who wonder whether Hollywood has any interest in original stories anymore. Even so, it’s not necessarily a bad idea to make another installment of The Pink Panther. In movies at least, idiot cops are always good for a laugh. It’s the talent involved, and not the story, that makes this comedy such a misbegotten affair.
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