Celebrating Days of Wine and Roses: A Tribute to Blake Edwards
“I reckon this could mean another 10 million at the box office.” – Blake Edwards
December 16, 2010 left a bleak mark on cinematic comedy, a day one of the last remaining masters of farce and slapstick left us at the age of 88. But not before leaving behind a legacy that will keep us rolling in the aisles with deep-gutted laughter for generations to come.
To say filmmaker Blake Edwards was a legend is an unparalleled understatement. As the grandson of silent film director J. Gordon Edwards and stepson of director Jack McEdwards, Edwards’ life was one of Hollywood privilege.
Edwards served as writer/producer/director of 46 films in a career that spanned some five decades, including such beloved and timeless classics as “Breakfast at Tiffany's,” “Days of Wine and Roses,” “Victor/Victoria,” “10,” “The Party” and other comedic masterworks.
But it was his teaming with Peter Sellers for “The Pink Panther” (1963) and “A Shot in the Dark” (1964) that conceived not only an iconic franchise, but introduced one of the most beloved bungling buffoons in Hollywood history. French Chief Inspector Jacques Clouseau became a comedic clod of an icon. It was a character who in the wrong hands would have merely kept the plot’s intrigue going. In the original films, Peter Sellers’ Clouseau became an enigma who went far beyond the expected norms. Throughout the series of sequels Edwards wrote and directed throughout the 1970s, including “The Return of the Pink Panther” (1975), “The Pink Panther Strikes Again” (1976) and “Revenge of the Pink Panther” (1978), the Clouseau character had progressed into a bumbling and gut-busting master of comedic chaos.
Some of my own favorite memories growing up are seeing these “Pink Panther” films in theaters. At the time, I reveled in Clouseau’s antics as he fended off lethal assaults in his apartment from servant Cato Fong (Burt Kwouk) and drove Superior Dreyfus (played to perfection by Herbert Lom) careening further and further down a tunnel of nerve-wracked hysteria. Little did I know as a kid I was witnessing comedy gold. I was being introduced to the genius that was Blake Edwards, a man whose talents and razor sharp mastery of humor lent a giant hand on my love of everything movies, then and now.
At that point in my life, a giant shark, a galaxy far, far away, a spy branded 007 and a French imbecile named Clouseau made me love movies in the most unimaginable of ways. And in later years, I learned to appreciate Edwards' films and the man all the more, particularly in discovering his penchant for ridiculing those he made millions for with his movies.
Despite the financial windfalls of the “Pink Panther” series, Edwards’ love/hate relationship with his Hollywood peers put him in and out of favor with fellow producers and studio heads for decades. Blood-boiling experiences became the genesis for 1981s colossal satire “S.O.B.,” a film that scored big with audiences, but roiled those it spoofed. To industry insiders, the film was an unforgivable assault on the industry that hit far too close to home. Edwards once remarked of “S.O.B.” "I was certainly getting back at some of the producers of my life, although I was a good deal less scathing than I could have been.”
“S.O.B.” marked the start of a triumphant return to good graces Edwards hit with audiences in the post-”Pink Panther” 1980s, soon scoring again with “10” and “Victor/Victoria.”
In following years, Edwards rounded out his remaining years in the film industry mainly as a screenwriter and directing the occasional gem (like 1989s “Skin Deep” starring the late John Ritter). Later years saw musical stage success for “Victor/Victoria,” as well as a musical based on the “Pink Panther” series Edwards had been developing at the time of his death.
I’ve been a Blake Edwards fan my entire life. His passing more than a decade ago remains a blow to an industry already in dire need of fresh talent that has the potential to make Hollywood something it used to be — worthwhile. Long gone are the experiences of seeing something special on the screen; something to make us laugh, cry and forget about the divided and viral world around us the moment the lights dimmed and the magic began to roll before our eyes.
The films of Blake Edwards didn’t thrill us, something they were never meant to do. They charmed us, tickled our funny bones and put us in awe as to how spectacular comedy could be when it was done right. You wanted funny? THIS was funny stuff! Even at their most venomous, even at their most assailing, his films were mercilessly funny treats. He had the guts to just say “Screw you” to an industry that was letting him down, even while he was making them millions. And making us laugh in the process.
The day we lost Blake Edwards, Heaven became a much funnier place.
