Let me begin by saying I have absolutely no idea what is happening in this movie. Blame the Campari, blame the dazzling beauty of young Robert Wagner, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of Blake Edward’s 1963 comedic caper farce The Pink Panther (DVD/Download). And yet- I couldn’t look away.
I’ve always been fascinated by the 1960’s Jet Set, even before Don Draper and his bizarre Palm Springs weekend. From the designer clothes, to the exotic travel, to the day-drinking, I love it all. This movie picks up where Slim Aarons’ photography leaves off, adding a healthy dose of Henry Mancini’s delightful jazz to an already-glamorous fever dream. I went into this film thinking Peter Sellers would be the star of the show, and indeed his Inspector Clouseau was the most entertaining character. There just wasn’t nearly enough of him. Instead we’re left watching David Niven romance Claudia Cardinale on a tiger-skin rug, while Robert Wagner attempts some playful sexual assault on Clouseau’s wife (I guess back then rapists were just called “playboys”? Ick.). I *think* there’s a jewel heist at the center of it all, but I have no idea who’s doing the heist, or why, or who the jewel belongs to in the first place. Also, despite the sly pink cartoon we all know and love, the Panther is not the thief, the Panther is the jewel. The Phantom is the thief. Still with me? Yeah, didn’t think so.
Whether they’re in Paris, Rome, or a glamorous Italian ski resort, these people drink A LOT of champagne. Doesn’t that sound like the life? In my opinion, Campari makes it even better, turning a hum-drum mimosa into a sophisticated brunch cocktail. While watching the Pink Panther, I recommend drinking a Campari Sparkler.
2 oz Campari
2 oz fresh orange juice
1 ½ cups Pink Champagne
Orange slice for garnish
Combine Campari and orange juice in a shaker with ice, and shake until chilled. Strain into a flute or wine glass, and top with pink champagne. Garnish with an orange slice.
There are good caper films, and then there is The Pink Panther. Had I not been long-obsessed with 1960’s style, I might have given up halfway through. But instead I poured another drink, accepted the fact that I would never understand the plot of this movie, and just spent the remaining hour admiring Claudia Cardinale’s wardrobe and makeup. There are worse ways to spend an afternoon. Cheers!