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This 2006 movie remake is a comedy film with plenty of slapstick, sex jokes, fart jokes, and physical- type humor. It offers Kevin Kline and Steve Martin in the main roles and having watched the unusual Pink Panther and one of the Pink Panther follow ups (Return of the Pink Panther), I can say with confidence that this version isn’t very friendly. With the modern Pink Panther, you had David Niven and Peter Sellers in the starring roles in a comedy movie that was fun, modern, and tantalizing all the arrangement through thanks to the performances and the script. With this version, you have a movie that relies on fart jokes, vases stuck to Steve Martin’s hands, bullets falling out of a revolver, and other assorted silliness for its entertainment value.
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In some ways, one can’t assist but laugh during definite moments of this film- even when the comedy isn’t very musty or very recent. Bewitch for instance a scene come the beginning where Steve Martin’s Inspector Clouseau character is trying to parallel park his limited car between two other cars. There is plenty of room, but the idiotic Clouseau keeps backing the car and absorbing it forward, hitting the car in front and the car leisurely and causing the bumpers to drop off of each of the two vehicles. It isn’t recent and it isn’t knowing but you gain yourself laughing anyway. Remarkable of the comedy in the rest of the movie is of the same variety. It does acquire you laugh a itsy-bitsy, but the humor is more the result of the comedy’s goofiness than apt funniness.
Among the performers in this movie, the only one worth mentioning is Steve Martin and his portrayal of the French- accented character, the bumbling Inspector Jacques Clouseau. Martin’s Clouseau character is confidently incompetent- the type of person who thinks they are just about everything when they are actually moral about nothing. Many critics have already attacked Martin because he isn’t very mighty like Peter Sellers- the unusual Jacques Clouseau. It is inevitable that critics and viewers try to compare this movie and its performers to the novel (I’m guilty of this, too), but I don’t mediate it’s attractive to criticize Steve Martin for not being more like Peter Sellers. First, it would be very tough to match Sellers in playing the role of Jacques Clouseau. Second, Martin’s character, aside from the accent, is really a character all his own- a original version, if you will, of Inspector Jacques Clouseau. If anything, Martin’s character reminds me of the Clouseau from the Pink Panther cartoons. In fact, powerful of the comedy in this movie is like that of a cartoon. With the bumping, the banging, and the general physical nature of the humor, it reminds me of obsolete Pink Panther cartoons with a touch of Bugs Bunny.
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Other than Steve Martin, I didn’t regain anyone else in this movie particularly memorable. Kevin Kline was ok, and so was Beyonce Knowles. But no one stands out in this movie as someone who has contributed a stout performance. Martin is the only one who gets your attention. The goofy French accent and his wild and crazy persona are the only parts of this movie that invent it worthwhile, in spite of the sub par script and the slower than average pacing.
Overall, The Pink Panther is a comedy with few laughs, ancient writing, and even less originality. It scores a few points for Steve Martin’s zany portrayal of Inspector Jacques Clouseau, but other than that, the film is a wipe out. It’s like a glass of American brewed light beer: Weak- bodied and wimpy but with honest enough taste and ease of consumption to withhold you from dumping it down the drain.
Ah yes, the Pink Panther films of the 1960’s and 1970’s. Peter Sellers, hilarious French accents, hurt and destruction gags, the Pink Panther diamond that kept getting stolen, the spellbinding character who appeared in the titles sequence, and that distinguished theme song by Henry Mancini. Well, in this latest version of the film, clearly the latter five are display, given that Sellers passed away in 1980. Despite being identically titled to the novel 1964 movie, this is clearly a Pink Panther movie for the modern generation and technology, given the spend of cellphones and references to the Internet and email.
The myth? A French football coach, Yves Gluant, the owner of the Pink Panther diamond, is murdered after the French collect the winning goal, the giant diamond which was shown on his fist on the stadium’s giant shroud TV, missing. Chief Inspector Dreyfus sees this as the chance to become a winner and not merely a nominee for the French medal of honour. He plans to have a total nincompoop in charge of a bogus investigation, while Dreyfus himself conducts the steady one with smarter people. Guess who’s in charge of the bogus one?
The suspects range from Bizu, a football player whose girlfriend, pop singer Xania, was stolen by Gluant. Then there’s Raymond Leroq, the casino owner whom Gluant went into a partnership with, but whose gambling habit irritated Leroq. Xania, played with bootyliciousness by Beyonce Knowles, is well aware that Clouseau (Steve Martin) is gaga at the study of her and uses her feminine wiles to… well, maybe divert suspicion?
Clouseau is given support in the construct of Gilbert Ponton (Jean Reno), someone who is customary to following orders. However, during the investigation, it’s apparent that he is more competent than his reliable. And Nicole the secretary gives him encouragement. Oh, and there’s some unexpected succor from a British agent who’s one digit away from being on top.
The slapstick gags that garnered many a giggle or howl are point to. As a nod to Sellers’ Clouseau getting his hand stuck in a globe in the first PP movie, Martin’s Clouseau sends the globe rolling down the stairs and into the street until it causes some cyclists to rupture. And the damage gags, often at Dreyfus’s expense are fair as painful, such as a scene where Clouseau flips commence his ID badge, only to have the badge soar out and pierce Dreyfus’s chest. Hoewver, Kato, the Chinese manservant who attacked Clouseau randomly to withhold the detective on his toes, is conspicuous by his absence. Here, it’s Clouseau who randomly attacks Ponton, only to realize his subordinate is really on his toes.
Martin, who also has co-screenplay writing credit, manages the bogus French accent well, and he doesn’t fare too badly as Clouseau, but his mannerisms can be overdone, and gags that are meant to be humorous misfire. His failure to instruct the word “hamburger” leads to an airport security sequence mirroring that of the Bean movie-what’s the point?
One significant inequity is the Dreyfus-Clouseau relationship. Whereas from A Shot In The Gloomy, Herbert Lom’s Dreyfus was driven to insanity and hated Clouseau, Kevin Kline’s Dreyfus is a more rational schemer and gloryseeker trying to secure the glory he deserves. Those wild eyes and that smile are there, but he’s not the over-the-top psychopath he was in A Fish Called Wanda.
While A Shot In The Black and The Pink Panther Strikes Again stand as classics in the series, this one is at least better than Revenge of the Pink Panther and the lamentable Sellers-less Curse of the Pink Panther with Ted Wasson.
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