All six Pink Panther features directed by Blake Edwards and starring Peter Sellers as Inspector Clouseau are featured in this six-disc Blu-ray collection, four of them making their respective Blu-ray debuts.
Clouseau was but a supporting character in The Pink Panther (1963), a comic heist film with David Niven as the legendary jewel thief “the Phantom” out to steal a priceless diamond (called “The Pink Panther”) belonging to Indian Princess Claudia Cardinale, but Sellers’ mock-French accent and oblivious intensity made him the most memorable character. The bumbling French detective Clouseau also has a wife in this one, played by Capucine. Set in a posh Swiss resort and accompanied by an easy-going light jazz score by Henri Mancini, Blake Edwards’ mix of elegance and slapstick was a hit and Sellers was back as Clouseau in A Shot in the Dark(1964), this time without a wife, which gives him time to romance lovely murder suspect Elke Sommers. While the original film gave the series its name and its hero, it was A Shot in the Darkthat defined the series by putting Clouseau in the lead and introducing two essential series characters: martial arts wielding manservant Kato (Burt Kwouk), who keeps his boss in shape by ambushing him every time her returns home, and tormented Chief Inspector Dreyfus (Herbert Lom), who barely survives the walking disaster that is Clouseau.
Vice & Virtue(Kino Classics, Blu-ray, DVD) is the titillating title that Roger Vadim gave to his 1963 take on two Marquis de Sade stories, “Justine” and “Juliette,” which he reframed as a morality play set in Nazi-occupied France. Annie Girardot and Catherine Deneuve star as sisters representing diametrically opposed responses to the occupation. Girardot’s Juliette, aka “le vice,” turns collaborator and becomes the willing mistress to a ruthless and equally opportunistic SS colonel (Robert Hossein), while the idealistic young Justine, aka “le vertu,” defies the Nazis and is sent to “The Commandery,” the brothel clubhouse of a particularly sadistic brotherhood of officers in a country castle. Vadim revels in decadence and suggestions of sadism and sexual enslavement, attempting a kind of arthouse version of sexploitation by way of high melodrama and gothic horror, but it’s a weird confusion of bland elegance and tastelessness, a perverse fairy tale of innocence under assault and corruption punished in the end. It was the first major role for Deneuve but her part is small next to the power games and sensual distractions of her high-living sister and her calculating lover. They’re a natural couple with no allegiance to anything but their own power and pleasure.
Vadim made his debut just before the French nouvelle vague broke through, creating a sensation with … And God Created Woman and its voluptuous sex kitten star Brigitte Bardot in 1956. Where the rest of France’s ambitious young filmmakers were experimenting and exploring, trying to find fresh and authentic ways to express themselves and examine the world around them, Vadim was a self-promoter with an eye on the box-office and a canny understanding of how sex sells. He presented himself as both sexual rebel and polished studio man, making films with a flamboyant style and an erotic flair, even if it was all in the licentious suggestion of debauchery. Vice and Virtue comes off as particularly calculated—the spectacle of innocent beauties degraded at the hands of Nazi officers anticipate the grotesque Nazi-sploitation films of the seventies—and cynical, set against elegant locations and directed with self-consciously theatrical flair. His lighting effects, where the screen goes dark but for a spotlight on a single character, is contrived at best and ultimately distracting. But finally, there is no investment in a moral, merely a pageant of depravity mostly hinted it with the hope that the audience will fill in the rest.
The widescreen black and white film is nicely mastered and looks quite nice. French with English subtitles, no supplements beyond a trailer.
Mark of the Devil (Arrow / MVD, Blu-ray, DVD), a sadistic tale of a corrupt inquisitor and his reign of terror in the name of the church in 1770 Austria, is not for all tastes, and certainly not for all stomachs. The commanding Herbert Lom stars as the Inquisitor and a handsome young Udo Kier takes a rare romantic lead as a young Baron who rescues an innocent peasant girl from the clutches of a local witch-hunter (the villainous-looking Reggie Nalder), only to run afoul of Lom’s unholy warrior. An early entry in the “sex and sadism” genre, this is an exploitation film with an intelligence behind it, but an exploitation film nonetheless: director Michael Armstrong (with an uncredited Adrian Hoven, who also produced and co-scripted) revels in the most barbarous tortures as the impotent Inquisitor punishes innocent young maidens for his own unclean desires. It’s not as interesting or powerful as Michael Reeves’ similarly themed The Witchfinder General but Mark makes its own unique mark with Lom’s strong central performance as the power mad inquisitor and solid support from Nalder and Kier. The cynical ending that deliver a dramatic punch along with the grisly nastiness. Barf bags were handed out to audiences on its initial release.
This is the first American release by Arrow, a British label that earned a reputation as the “Criterion of Cult” for its high-quality restorations and supplements, and this is a superb disc. It’s been on DVD before, most notably in a fine edition from Blue Underground, but this is remastered in HD from original film elements and features with both English and German soundtracks (it was a co-production shot in Austria). It is sharp and vivid and preserves the filmic texture and it looks superb, a marked upgrade from the previous SD release and the definitive release of the film. (Note that the grit you see in the opening credits is on the negative, thanks to sloppy optical work by the company that added the credits.) It’s the first time it’s been presented in its complete, uncut form in Britain, where the censorship of horror films is notorious, and that same edition is released stateside as well.
It features brand new commentary recorded for this release by director Michael Armstrong with moderator Calum Waddell and the new feature-length documentary “Mark of the Times,” about the “new wave” of British horror in the 1960s and 1970s (with interviews with director Michael Armstrong among others), plus the featurettes “Hallmark of the Devil” (about the American distributor of the film) and “Mark of the Devil: Now and Then” (a look at the shooting locations) and interviews with actors Udo Kier, Herbert Fux, Gaby Fuchs, Ingeborg Schöner and Herbert Lom (carried over from the earlier Blue Underground DVD) and composer Michael Holm. Exclusive to the Blu-ray is a collection of outtakes, the trailer, and an accompanying booklet.
After the death of Peter Sellers in 1980, Blake Edwards made the unexpected decision to revive the Pink Panther film franchise by creating not one but two sequels simultaneously without the defining presence of Sellers in the lead as Inspector Clouseau. Trail of the Pink Panther (1982), the first of the two, utilizes previously unseen footage shot for previous Pink Panther features for a kind of memorial for Clouseau, who is sent once again to solve the robbery of the Pink Panther diamond (the jewel stolen in the original The Pink Panther (1963) and disappears, apparently dead in a plane crash. A reporter interviews friends, foes, and colleagues of the legendary detective, allowing Edwards to use classic clips from the series.
Curse of the Pink Panther (1983) picks up the premise months later and spins it into an attempt to launch a new character under the Pink Panther brand. Clouseau’s boss and nemesis Chief Inspector Dreyfus (Herbert Lom) is directed to use a supercomputer to find the world’s greatest detective to find France’s greatest detective. Since only a complete moron on the level of Clouseau has any hope of figuring him out, he reprograms the computer search for Clouseau’s perfect match: the worst detective in the world. Enter Sergeant Clifton Sleigh (Ted Wass) of the New York Police Department, a walking disaster area that his commanding officer is overjoyed to pack off to Paris. Immediately upon reporting to duty, his clumsiness sends Dreyfus to the hospital.
Dr. No launched more than just the James Bond franchise in 1962. Bondmania inspired studios all over the world to come up with their own secret agent and espionage thrillers, preferably with suave spies, beautiful women, exotic locations, and a rogues gallery of sinister enemy agents and colorful thugs.
Our Man in Marrakesh (1966) combines the spy thriller with the wrong man adventure of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956, the American tourist in Morocco) and North by Northwest (1959, the businessman inadvertently tangled up with international intrigue and a beautiful female spy) and the jaunty tone of Stanley Donen’s Charade (1963). The title itself recalls Our Man in Havana (1959), Carol Reed’s film of Graham Greene’s satire of Cold War intrigue.
While not exactly a spoof, this is as much breezy comic adventure as exotic spy-versus-spy conspiracy. American oil man Andrew Jessel (Tony Randall) arrives in Morocco with a small group of tourists and boards a bus for the city of Marrakesh, where he meets the lovely Kyra Stanovy (Senta Berger), a glamorous woman of indeterminate nationality and formidable talent. When Andrew gets the wrong room key and finds a corpse in the closet, Kyra immediately convinces him to help her hide the corpse and his adventure begins.