Herbert Lom, the actor best known for playing Charles Dreyfus in the Pink Panther movies, has died aged 95. He may have starred alongside Hollywood greats Kirk Douglas, Charlton Heston and Alec Guinness, he may have portrayed historical figures such as Napoleon Bonaparte, but it will be his performance alongside the hapless Inspector Clouseau (played by Peter Sellers) for which he will be most fondly remembered.
The family of the Czech-born star confirmed that he died peacefully in his sleep, Sky News report today (September 27, 2012) and his son Alec Lom has spoken of his long and varied career. “Like many actors, he never wanted to be pigeon-holed in a particular role,” his son revealed. “After having played the role of East European gangster in many films, it was a delight to him later in his career to be cast by Pink Panther producer and director Blake Edwards in a comedy role opposite Peter Sellers, and he hugely enjoyed that move.”
Alec also spoke fondly of his father’s working relationship with Sellers, saying “he had many funny stories about the antics that he and Peter Sellers got up to on the set. It was a nightmare working with Peter because he was a terrible giggler and, between my father and Peter's laughter, they ruined dozens and dozens of takes.”
You can guess from the title what's up here: Clouseau is long gone, and Maria Gambrelli (from A Shot in the Dark) has moved on with her life. Add in a kidnapped princess and police commissioner Dreyfus (Herbert Lom, impossibly still alive) who stumble into Maria's world. Then throw in Clouseau's long-lost son, the idiotic Jacques Cambrelli, who is, yes, Maria's offspring.
Continue reading: Son Of The Pink Panther Review
That's a tricky place to start, and it doesn't go entirely well. Finally acknowledging the death of Peter Sellers three years earlier, Curse posits that Clouseau is still missing and that, well, somebody ought to find him. Enter what the studio obvious hoped would be a replacement for Sellers, Ted Wass, playing "the world's second best detective," Sergeant Clifton Sleigh. (Of course, Wass didn't really take, the movie flopped, and that was that. Wass is now a television director, but he's best known for his work playing the dad on TV's Blossom.)
Continue reading: Curse Of The Pink Panther Review
Trail certainly isn't historically unique in its use of archival footage to create a role for a passed-on movie star, but it's inarguably one of the ballsiest attempts at it. Sellers isn't some bit player (like Lawrence Olivier in Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow), he's the star. He's Inspector freakin' Clouseau, and he's in more than half of the running time of the film.
Continue reading: Trail Of The Pink Panther Review
No matter: She acquits herself far better here, namely ecause she has nearly no lines. This is Dudley Moore's show: An absurd and hopelessly dated bit of slapstick about Moore's showbiz star facing a midlife crisis. Zoom, he's off to Mexico, where he daydreams about Derek (in those hideous braids) at length. Blake Edwards made worse films than this, but his comic timing is all wrong, exiled to long bouts of non-sequitur gags, such as Moore's run-in with dentistry.
Continue reading: 10 Review
Problem #1 can be seen in a premise: It's a film that no self-respecting studio head should have ever greenlit, but inexplicably somebody did. Who in their right mind could have thought that anyone would want to see a musical about Mata Hari? Not even the real Mata Hari, but a Mata Hari-like character plying her trade during World War I.
Continue reading: Darling Lili Review
Coppola's project (it came off his unbelievable string of '70s hits that started with The Godfather and ended with Apocalypse Now) was a technologically adventuresome movie that had one little problem--everything. The songs were bad (Raul Julia and Frederic Forrest sang), the actors appeared to have been fed a diet of sedatives and wine, and there was no cast chemistry or energy provided among the millions of dollars Coppola lavished on this neon turkey.
Continue reading: Victor/Victoria Review