The Life and Death of an HBO Film

Author's Rating:

Pros: intelligent, well-crafted performances, insightful

Cons: beyond the reach of many viewers, anarchic in a way that tests the audience's patience

The Bottom Line: 
Enjoyable material for grown-ups but aimed so much at Sellers fans it's not likely to make many converts.

Author's Review
"The Pink Panther?
Sounds like a strip club ...
for poofs."
--Peter Sellers

HBO has become the outlet for filmmakers who envision movies above the comfort zone of the Scooby Doo crowd - and for viewers who've already been to the prom. If the Life and Death of Peter Sellers has one solid strength, it's that it dares to tell us the untold story of one of the greatest comedians to grace the silver screen. Its weakness is a mixture of demands that fall flat in a marketplace for dummies. Sellers hit his peak four decades ago - making him about as topical to this crowd as a denture commercial. Add to that the film's anarchic style of breaking the fourth wall and having Peter Sellers become all of the characters of his story, and you're likely to run low on the Children's Tylenol. This is not a film for a generation of Britneys, Courtneys or Justins.

Ah, to Hell with them.

Geoffrey Rush plays Peter Sellers, a British radio star who sees the demise of radio and the rise of film - and is determined to make the leap. His success in radio has armed him with a buffet of hilarious characters, but he's not an easy sell for a "visual medium" - that is, until he finds a way to give flesh and bones to the voices in his head. This is the story of talent and brilliance - and what happens when you follow your strengths, come what may. It's also the story of half a man, of the man behind the mask, who may have been no man at all - just a mechanistic collection of drives.

Based on the bestseller by Roger Lewis, the "teleplay" (by Christopher Markus and Stephen McFreely) is as quirky as its title character. Sellers was an odd duck, a gigantic baby jealously guarding his "mommy time" with his children, whom he alternately showered with abuse and indulgence. There's a scene in this film where Sellers, in a fit of rage because his Jaguar has a nick in the paint - and a double fit after his son paints over it with a racing stripe - walks through the boy's room, playing Godzilla with his toys. When wife, Anne (Emily Watson) confronts him with what he's done, Peter seeks refuge in the closet. The next day, he buys his son a pony.

These are the kinds of events that fill chapters in this biopic of a man whose talents - and shortcomings - are fueled by unmitigated narcissism. Sellers mother, Peg (Miriam Margoyles), is the female Dr. Frankenstein, giving life to an unholy presence with powers both miraculous and eerie. She's the voice in his head, pushing him on to find a way over, under or around any barrier between him and success. Unfortunately, she's also the architect of a set of values that will prove unsatisfying in the end.

The film does a nice job of drawing a parallel between the public and private personas of Peter Sellers and Sellers' most celebrated role, that of a mindless gardener in the Oscar-winning film, Being There. Though better known for his multiple roles in Dr. Strangelove - and as Inspector Clousseau in The Pink Panther franchise, Sellers hit a high mark as Chauncey, a man with virtually no personality to speak of, just a vacant stare and the cadence of a man who'd just had an afternoon lobotomy. Director Stephen Hopkins is telling us that the real Peter Sellers, whose public persona was more like Austin Powers, was - in truth - much more like the idiot gardener. Without a character to wear, he was just a body without a face. To quote an observation about Bakersville, California, there was "no there there."

This is an interesting production, a little pedestrian at times, then a little anarchic. It's easy to see why it never hit the big screen, but it's also a reminder of why HBO has become a medium all its own. The term, "HBO movie," may not be synonymous with box-office gold, but it's certainly a suggestion that "thinking is done here."