Thankless Effort: The Pink Panther 2 and the Art of Film
If I gave you a piece of paper, a pen, and 100 years to answer the question “what is the most important film in recent memory?”, how long do you think it would take you to arrive at Steve Martin’s 2009 comedy sequel/remake The Pink Panther 2? Am I safe in assuming it would never even enter your mind? You are not alone. I would even go so far as to say the vast majority of the movie-going public infrequently, if ever, thinks of this movie. This is a great disservice to what I will prove, in three essential points, is one of the most important films in recent, but not too recent, memory.
Now that I’ve made some jokes, and checking all irony at the door, I would like to emphasize that this is an entirely serious, sincere discussion of The Pink Panther 2. One thing that concerns me about modern culture is this phenomenon of “ironically” appreciating art (the concept of something being “so bad it’s good”). Not only is this ludicrous as a concept, it is damaging to the appreciation of culture as a whole, which I will elaborate on later. So, to reiterate, I am not here to laugh at anything, instead to laugh with something. I am not making one long joke at the expense of The Pink Panther 2. That would be an insane amount of trouble for me to go through. I really do, entirely unironically, love and appreciate this film.
I cannot tell you why I found the mp4 file of this film on my computer because I cannot remember where it came from. Yet there it was, hidden away amongst the folders and files, totally untouched for an unknowable amount of time. That is until one day when, out of curiosity and fond memories, I watched the film for the first time probably since it was in theaters. Then, a few days later, suffering through a mild recurrence of depression, I watched it again, looking for something familiar, unintimidating, and enjoyable. Then, the following week, I watched The Pink Panther 2 a third time, just because I thought it was funny that I would have then watched this movie 3 times, like who does that? Me. When I watched it for the fourth and fifth times inside of one month I realized there was so much more to this movie that critics had written off so quickly. That was because they hadn’t seen it as many times as I have. Aside from the director of the film, I don’t think anyone has seen this movie as many times as I have.
Quizzing someone on the cast of The Pink Panther 2 is telling in a few ways. First, people on the street don’t really like being asked this question. Second, people don’t seem to remember most of the cast, aside from Steve Martin. This is a shame because it is one so stacked with talent just listing off the names one after the other might seem like a joke. Starting from the top, returning from the previous film, the 2006 reboot of The Pink Panther, we have Steve Martin, Emily Mortimer, and Jean Reno. Martin, of course, is one of the most influential stand-up comedians of all time, a talented writer of multiple mediums, and has at least a dozen tremendous films under his belt. Mortimer is an underappreciated English actress with one of the strongest senses of timing in film today, and Jean Reno is a world-renowned actor from France who is possibly best known for his dark, moody portrayals of damaged men. Here, though, Reno plays Ponton, the put-upon sidekick to Steve Martin’s Jacques Clouseau. If this seems like a waste of talent, I would argue the opposite. Reno’s character offers much of the heart of the film, remaining grounded and serious when things around him veer into farcical. He is a father with problems at home, and no matter how the world views Clouseau, Ponton offers nothing but support. He is the consummate friend.
Further diving into the cast list of The Pink Panther 2 we find Alfred Molina, John Cleese, Jeremy Irons, Lily Tomlin, Andy Garcia, and Aishwarya Rai. Beyond the immediate name recognition of these performers, we have two legendary names of 20th century comedy (Cleese and Tomlin); two immensely talented, seemingly dour Englishmen brilliantly playing against-type (Molina and Irons); a highly respected American actor with a wide acting range (Garcia); and one of the leading stars of Indian cinema (Rai). Any of these actors could carry a film on their own, or be bumped up to a co-starring role beside Martin, but here they all offer supporting roles to the bumbling antics of Inspector Clouseau.
Much like the inspector himself, there is no ego within the cast. There is no battle for screen time or top billing. The professionals they are, each actor understands their role is to elevate the film, not themselves. They clearly have fun with it. Seeing Andy Garcia’s face covered in cake, John Cleese literally banging his head against a wall, or Alfred Molina dressed in a tutu also gives the audience encouragement to laugh. These are respected names unafraid to look foolish and, in doing so, tell the audience “we believe in what this, feel free to enjoy.” It is an unabashed, unashamed enjoyment that is hard to find in society today. Often, people are judged for the things they enjoy. They are looked down on for laughing at something someone else might see as “low brow” or “unintelligent”. Instead, we should be celebrating comedy of nearly every kind. Laughs are not easily delivered, especially in the real world.
The second thing I noticed upon multiple viewings of The Pink Panther 2 was the plot. Normally in a film of this genre, the plot is there as a sort of scaffolding for the comedy to occur on and around, a string to keep the characters moving from place to place or involve funny coincidences or misunderstandings. In short, the story plays second fiddle to the humor, which is fine. And on the surface, it seems the same can be said for this film. But, below that is a film so tightly plotted I could find no real plot holes to speak of. Bullet-pointed, the story is as such: numerous historical artifacts along with the Pink Panther diamond are stolen, again, and Clouseau, now a national hero, is chosen to represent France in an “international dream team” of detectives tasked with finding the stolen items, though no one (except Ponton) really expects him to be of any help.
The hunt is on as they crisscross the globe trying to track down a criminal who calls himself “The Tornado”. You don’t really pay attention to what is being said or reasoned out because your eyes are on Clouseau as he gets his hand stuck in a priceless vase or trampled by a stable of horses. But when you’ve seen the film as many times as I have, you have even done a pass of the film only watching the people in any scene who are not speaking. I know, what a life I live. Anyway, as you begin to dig deeper into the plot, you begin to realize that it is entirely logical, even the illogicality of Clouseau’s actions, and nothing is there without reason.
Every step the team makes is reasonable and usually follows the logic of what they have learned in the past, and the conclusions they come to are rational, in context, of what they already know. For example, in one scene, while the dream team is interrogating a man (Jeremy Irons) they believe to be The Tornado, Clouseau breaks off to investigate on his own, nearly ruining the whole set-up. But, unbeknownst to any of the team, Ponton (Jean Reno) has made an important discovery: a note caught in a shredder that divulges Iron’s dinner plans. That would be enough for us to accept why Martin and Reno end up at the same restaurant that night. However, this film even goes so far as to explain why the note was there. When Irons, at dinner with a woman, mentions his wife is out of town, Reno reasons that that is why he was shredding the note, so his wife would not find it. A totally unimportant detail to a movie most people write off as silly, but indicative of how it is written: treated as a mystery first, comedy second.
This also explains, by the end, why Clouseau was so quick and unflappable in his rejection of the conclusion the dream team comes to about the identity of the thief, even when all the evidence points to the opposite of what Clouseau insists. A man is found having left a suicide note confessing that he destroyed the Pink Panther because no one else deserved its exquisite beauty. The team labels him the Tornado, DNA confirms it, and Clouseau becomes a laughingstock. To all except loyal Ponton, of course. But in the end, it is revealed that Clouseau was right and the Tornado was not the one who stole the Pink Panther and that the criminal was actually a member of the dream team. The people who discredited him are embarrassed, and Ponton has the validation that his faith was not misplaced.
But how did Clouseau know the truth? Surely a shrug of “I had a hunch” is enough to satisfy the plot. Not so: Clouseau reveals that once he heard of the Tornado’s crime spree he immediately switched the Pink Panther on display in a museum with a replica he was awarded for saving it the previous time. Therefore, the thief destroyed a fake, and the real Tornado, a renowned art thief, would have immediately recognized it as a fraud, not praise its beauty. This is the final joke of the plot: when everyone in the film thought they had one up on the inept Inspector Clouseau, it was, in fact, Clouseau that had the upper hand on everyone involved. Including the criminal that no one else could catch. Clouseau saves the day again and forgives all for how they treated him. The resolution is that he was not bothered by it, because he did not understand it.
This brings us to the final, and most essential, element of the film’s importance. For the entirety of the movie (and all the ones before it) we are laughing at Clouseau, just like the other characters: he is bumbling, comically unaware, and seemingly inept. But this does not bother Clouseau because in his mind he has done nothing worth laughing at. He is entirely sincere in everything he does, and as far as he is concerned he has never committed a social faux pas or embarrassing mistake because there is no such thing to him. Clouseau laughs at no one because no one deserves to be laughed at. This is why he shrugs off his missteps or insults levied at him, because there is nothing he can do at that point, and he is confident in himself. He has no shame, because nothing is shameful.
People might not think of Clouseau or Ponton as models for how to live life, the same way they might not acknowledge the importance of The Pink Panther 2. It is overlooked, a film about shameless enjoyment, completely sincere in a time where we are so postmodern, even our emotions are sarcastic. Sometimes we just need to laugh, with no strings attached. This is what The Pink Panther 2 provided. Clouseau gave us that enjoyment. He would be glad to shoulder the laughs of the audience, because he understands the need for happiness. As self-appointed guardian of the Pink Panther diamond, he does not do what he does for recognition, but as a gift to everyone else. A gift he does not expect to be returned. We should be so lucky as to know Clouseau.
The takeaway message of The Pink Panther 2, as I see it, is encouragement. Live as you are, worry less about what everyone else thinks. Love unconditionally and support passionately like Ponton, or be confident and empathetic like Clouseau. David Foster Wallace once wrote about “anti-rebels”, people who opposed irony and perceived rebellion and are those “who treat of plain old untrendy human troubles and emotions in… life with reverence and conviction. Who eschew self-consciousness and hip fatigue. These anti-rebels would be outdated, of course, before they even started.” In just this way, Clouseau is labeled outdated. He is brushed off by a world too cynical to forgive any sincerity. But the joke was never on Clouseau, even when it was. And that’s important too. If there’s nothing to be ashamed about then there is far more encouragement to enjoy anything and everything, regardless of the funny looks one might receive.