Son of the Pink Panther

About 10 years ago, comedy filmmaker Blake Edwards was kidnapped by extraterrestrials. In his place, they left an evil twin who churns out hack movies.

At least, that’s one way to explain Edwards’ fall from sophisticated slapstick to total ineptitude. It was only 11 years ago that Victor/Victoria marked his long-overdue rise to “serious” status. Then, almost immediately, he fell apart as a filmmaker.

And the past decade of Edwards’ career has not been a pretty sight. Mild failures such as Blind Date alternated with such mega-bombs as A Fine Mess. He grew desperate enough to creep back to TV and rehash one of his early creations, Peter Gunn. Even that went bust. A respectable retirement may have been Edwards’ best move.

Instead, he made Son of the Pink Panther – his third attempt at mindlessly looting the rich legacy that he and Peter Sellers created with the original Inspector Clouseau movies. The whole effort smacks of grave robbery, though it’s not quite as bad as some of Edwards’ recent stuff.

The plot of Son of the Pink Panther is never clear. Most of it’s a string of recycled gags from The Return of the Pink Panther and The Pink Panther Strikes Again. Much of the current offering is spent introducing Roberto Benigni as Clouseau’s son. In fact, he’s introduced over and over again. The movie plays as the longest warm-up act in history (not counting the Middle Ages).

Benigni is an Italian comedian of modest talent, he can be beguiling, but in Son of the Pink Panther, he comes across as a pasta version of Jerry Lewis. As Clouseau, Sellers played a divine fool. Benigni presents Clouseau, Jr. as an idiot.

The same old – and, by now, exceedingly tired – faces are aboard for the joyless ride. Herbert Lom is Chief Inspector Dreyfuss once again. This time, he has the thankless task of being a father figure to Clouseau’s kid. Burt Kwouk is also back, as the pointlessly faithful Cato, though his character shows up only long enough to make a few reaction shots.

The jokes in Son of the Pink Panther are clumsy and mechanical. There is no structure or build-up to any of the gags – they’re just a lot of pratfalls for lack of anything better to do.

It’s as if Edwards has forgotten everything he knew about producing laughter. Not even a dry chuckle remains.