The Pink Panther (1963)

 "You do the walking and I'll do the drinking."

Yes, I know, forty-seven and have only just seen this... 

Anyway, it's fascinating to see the actual film behind the Pink Panther cartoon and that seminal Henry Mancini tune that we all know so well; these things in themselves are a seminal achievement, as is the opening titles. It's all very well shot. But... well, asa comedy, it's a curate's egg.

Of course, as with the original curate's egg, parts of it are excellent. This isn't a comedy of verbal jokes, exactly, but the script is particularly witty in its sexually charged conversations between David Niven's Sir Charles (and his nephew George to some extent) and both Simone Clouseau and the Princess. This is top quality flirting and there's a lot of it.

Plus the setting- the Swiss Alps and Rome- is visually arresting, and the plot is enormous fun. But, well... we need to talk about Inspector Clouseau. I mean, Peter Sellers plays the part very well, and it's not that I don't enjoy slapstick comedy or farce. But the character isn't that funny. Oh, I do enjoy the extended sequence in the hotel room with Simon where both Sir Charles and George hide from him. But all the falling over and bumping into things just gets tired very quickly.

Still, a film doesn't have to be the greatest ever example of its genre to be good. This is no Life of Brian, but it is, at least, quite funny, and the flirting scenes are genuinely brilliant. Iwasn't blown away... but I enjoyed the film. And that's what matters.

8½ (1963)

"A writer's block? What if it's not just temporary, my friend? What if it's the final downfall of a liar who has run out of talent."

A single viewing probably isn't enough for me to properly discuss Federico Fellini's magnum opus. Suffice to say it's a beautifully shot and profoundly eloquent film, every shot pregnant with far more meaning than I can adequately discuss here. It's magnificent but, while it is everything I just said, it is by no means a "difficult" film to watch. There is a straightforward narrative in spite of everything.

Guido is a forty-three year old film director, like Fellini himself, and the assumption must be that the character is a self-portrait. This is interesting, as the character suffers from a profound writers block which he cannot overcome, ultimately leading, after much angst, to an expensive, abandoned failure. This is, of course, the underlying anxiety of all artists. But there is, I think, more, an ennui and existential angst, mixed with mid-life crisis, that seems very appropriate to the early '60s.

I wonder if Fellini has a similar difficult relationship with his wife? And, of so, if her reaction to the film on seeing it was the same as the fictional Luisa?

There are many dream sequences (one of which involves a harem of showgirls, and a whip!), all of which are deliberately shot so as not to be straightforwardly separated from the main narrative. Delightfully metatextual games are also played: I love the character of the critic. Not only does Fellini get to use the character to anticipate any and all criticism but he skewers the worst sort of critic quite delightfully.

Not exactly light viewing, this, but extremely rewarding. I recommend it hugely.