IMDb really should change that line to 0 out of umpteen people found the following comment corresponded with their preconceived opinion but, hey, my comments have received so many zeros that I'm starting to feel quite special
First off, I've got to say I'm no great fan of Peter Sellers (and before you ask, I watched the film because I watch whatever the hell I feel like watching. Good films sometimes overcome their over-rated stars, and this film is fairly well regarded by a lot of knowledgeable people). Sellers was an over-rated actor in my opinion, with a limited repertoire that he exploited to the full (and kudos to him for that), and no amount of ardent fans telling me how wrong I am will sway me from an opinion formed from the evidence that's been shown to me at 24fps. That doesn't mean I think he has no talent I just don't think he has as much of it as most other people seem to think (and, yes, I've seen DR. STRANGELOVE).
If I didn't know better I'd suspect that, in the opening scene of this film, writer/director Blake Edwards was having a sly dig at the self-indulgence Sellers so often displayed in his movies when working with a director too inexperienced or intimidated to rein in such egocentricity. Lampooning GUNGA DIN, Sellers blows that warning trumpet, and refuses to stop no matter how many times he's shot. The scene goes on beyond the bounds of decency until every other actor on the set is emptying their firearm into him. Still he trumpets; squeaky, breathless toots, tuneless laments aimed at the sky as he lies on his back. It works for me as a parody of Sellers rather than a parody of GUNGA DIN
Wait a minute don't click on that 'NO' button yet. Just because I don't subscribe to the 'Sellers was a comedy genius' line of thought doesn't mean I didn't like this film. In fact I did, and Sellers is actually quite good in it. He's blacked up, and employs an Indian accent that is probably considered offensive these days, but he manages to inject an intelligence and warmth into a character that, for most of the film, is simply the subject of a sequence of borderline slapstick mishaps. He's a stranger in a strange land, as is Michele Monet (Claudine Longet), his kindred spirit, and the land in which he finds himself is obsessed with beauty, success, and status. In his white shoes and red socks and tie he is totally at odds with the stylish and sophisticated West Coast party-goers, but their elegance is all on the surface, while Bakshi's is inside of him.
The movie is reminiscent of a silent movie, but more Tati than Chaplin, especially when it focuses on the hapless Bakshi's encounters with modern technology. There is no plot to speak of, just Bakshi wandering around studio head Fred Clutterbuck's (J. Edward McKinley) plush house, grinning inanely at all around him, trying to blend in as he increasingly stands out. The comic timing is often quite sublime, prompting a number of laugh-out-loud moments and, although the film falters very badly in the last third, the relationship that develops between Bakshi and Monet is quite touching. But the ending is woefully misjudged, and at odds with the pace and tone of the rest of the film. It dates the film badly, and comes across as fake and forced.
First off, I've got to say I'm no great fan of Peter Sellers (and before you ask, I watched the film because I watch whatever the hell I feel like watching. Good films sometimes overcome their over-rated stars, and this film is fairly well regarded by a lot of knowledgeable people). Sellers was an over-rated actor in my opinion, with a limited repertoire that he exploited to the full (and kudos to him for that), and no amount of ardent fans telling me how wrong I am will sway me from an opinion formed from the evidence that's been shown to me at 24fps. That doesn't mean I think he has no talent I just don't think he has as much of it as most other people seem to think (and, yes, I've seen DR. STRANGELOVE).
If I didn't know better I'd suspect that, in the opening scene of this film, writer/director Blake Edwards was having a sly dig at the self-indulgence Sellers so often displayed in his movies when working with a director too inexperienced or intimidated to rein in such egocentricity. Lampooning GUNGA DIN, Sellers blows that warning trumpet, and refuses to stop no matter how many times he's shot. The scene goes on beyond the bounds of decency until every other actor on the set is emptying their firearm into him. Still he trumpets; squeaky, breathless toots, tuneless laments aimed at the sky as he lies on his back. It works for me as a parody of Sellers rather than a parody of GUNGA DIN
Wait a minute don't click on that 'NO' button yet. Just because I don't subscribe to the 'Sellers was a comedy genius' line of thought doesn't mean I didn't like this film. In fact I did, and Sellers is actually quite good in it. He's blacked up, and employs an Indian accent that is probably considered offensive these days, but he manages to inject an intelligence and warmth into a character that, for most of the film, is simply the subject of a sequence of borderline slapstick mishaps. He's a stranger in a strange land, as is Michele Monet (Claudine Longet), his kindred spirit, and the land in which he finds himself is obsessed with beauty, success, and status. In his white shoes and red socks and tie he is totally at odds with the stylish and sophisticated West Coast party-goers, but their elegance is all on the surface, while Bakshi's is inside of him.
The movie is reminiscent of a silent movie, but more Tati than Chaplin, especially when it focuses on the hapless Bakshi's encounters with modern technology. There is no plot to speak of, just Bakshi wandering around studio head Fred Clutterbuck's (J. Edward McKinley) plush house, grinning inanely at all around him, trying to blend in as he increasingly stands out. The comic timing is often quite sublime, prompting a number of laugh-out-loud moments and, although the film falters very badly in the last third, the relationship that develops between Bakshi and Monet is quite touching. But the ending is woefully misjudged, and at odds with the pace and tone of the rest of the film. It dates the film badly, and comes across as fake and forced.