The Pink Panther 2
Steve Martin in The Pink Panther 2
The Tornado has struck. The insidiously clever cat burglar has stolen the likes of The Shroud of Turin, the Imperial Sword of Japan and, lest we forget, France’s glorious gem The Pink Panther. The world can only hold its breath as it awaits the assembly of the greatest international detectives to crack the case. Heading the team is the incomparable Inspector Jacques Clouseau (Steve Martin).
Following a rather precarious reintroduction of the venerable, bumbling sleuth a few years back, The Pink Panther 2 manages to improve (one cautiously avoids the word “redeem”) upon its shaky rebirth. Martin is a different sort of buffoon to the one conceived by Peter Sellers; and the likes of the 1963 original and the series zenith A Shot in the Dark are admittedly difficult to equal. The reinventions are broader, less sophisticated affairs that target the most obvious things that make us laugh. And though some might ache for something a bit more inspired, the new Panther nonetheless makes us laugh out loud without a great deal of attendant guilt.
The one truly welcome holdover from the past is the retention of a visual style that strives for elegance. Cinematographer Denis Crossan displays a keen sense of placing the camera strategically to emphasize both the breadth and intimacy that this cacophony of tones and moods requires. There’s also no stinting on the part of production designer Rusty Smith in getting across the texture and romance of foreign locations that meld seamlessly with studio reinventions.
The story unfortunately is no more than a coat hanger on which to drape the film’s myriad sight gags and shenanigans. The resolution—the true identity of the Tornado—is best observed as a convenience. However, all is not lost as a result of shrewd casting of such adept performers as Andy Garcia and Alfred Molina as fellow detectives, Jeremy Irons as a suave no-goodnik and series regulars Jean Reno, Emily Mortimer and John Cleese. The ensemble is truly in sync in the understanding that laughs derive organically from playing it straight to Martin’s out-sized antics. The contrast is genuinely effective.
The subtlety of The Pink Panther 2 works well in the least intrusive manner. Composer Christophe Beck wisely avoids the witticisms that were inherent (and are requisitely included) in the original Henry Mancini scores. He infuses the action with a deft combination of romanticism and physicality. Similarly editor Julia Wong sidesteps the abrasiveness associated with action comedies in favor of a more fluid, lyric approach that allows us to savor this winsome idle.
Though one tends to wince whenever a filmmaker or performer says the likes of “I hope people have as much fun watching the movie as we had making it,” in this instance a guarded exception is worth one’s consideration.
