Following a whole decade after Blake Edwards and United Artists' embarrassing attempts at continuing the Pink Panther series without Peter Sellers, one more try was done with Son of the Pink Panther. Starring Italian comic actor Roberto Benigni as Inspector Clouseau's son, the film did so poorly on its summer 1993 release that any plans to possibly continue the series ended right then and there, and Edwards himself would retire from filmmaking shortly afterwards. Watching the film 30 years following its original release, it's safe to say that this would mark the end of an era, and thank goodness for that too.
The film centers on the kidnapping of Princess Yasmin from Lugash, leading to Chief Inspector Dreyfus having to find her on account of France's strong ties with the country. Upon encountering local police officer Jacques Gambrelli, son of Jacques Clouseau and Maria Gambrelli from A Shot in the Dark, both men set out to find the missing Princess in spite of their shenanigans. With a premise of Inspector Clouseau's illegitimate son coming into play, one would think this would be a nice way to continue the magic of the series. Unfortunately, outside of general exposition from Maria Gambrelli on her son's origins, little is done to do anything unique with Clouseau jr other than the usual slapstick shenanigans with Dreyfus. Although Roberto Benigni is certainly doing his best in continuing the accident prone formula, his physical talents only do so much entertainment wise. At this point in the series, it seems like Edwards had long since exhausted what could be done and couldn't bother doing anything to make this film work for a new generation that hadn't grown up on the movies prior.
Outside of tired slapstick, the film does try to lighten the suspense up with dangerous stakes in regards to Princess Yasmin's kidnapping. Robert Davi pulls off a chilling performance as the chief kidnapper Hans Zabra, and the film does admittedly get its better sequences out of his team's presence alone. That being said, most of the action scenes feel tact on to keep the momentum going, not helped by how flat Yasmin is as a macguffin. On top of being played by producer Tony Adams' then wife Debrah Farentino, she is all looks and no character and feels more like an excuse for forced romantic chemistry between Yasmin and Gambrelli. At this point in the series, the movies can't decide whether they want to be fully goofy comedies or intense capers. One would even wonder why Jacques would be Clouseau's son in the first place when he could have easily been another accident prone cop like Ted Wass in the last Pink Panther outing. I guess having Claudia Cardinale back as Maria Gambrelli (replacing Elke Sommer) is a good enough excuse in the filmmaker's minds.
Going into any notable positives, the absolute highlight of the feature would definitely be the opening credits. On top of a groovy rendition of the iconic Pink Panther theme done by folk jazz singer Bobby McFerrin, the animation of the panther itself and a caricature of Benigni's Gambrelli continue the well timed pratfalls. By having the entire take place within one location, a recording studio booth where McFerrin and backup perform, the comical hijinks between both cartoon characters feel well confined within their environments enough to make for a strong start before all goes downhill. In addition to this being the last film to be scored by Henry Mancini, the production design makes good use of shooting on location in southeastern France and Jordan next to the UK. While the battle sequences are slightly bogged down by the obnoxious slapstick, the sets are marvelous in how grand the scope of it all is. Even when a feature is clearly dead in the water, you can still accompany it with some strong production values every now and then.
To call Son of the Pink Panther a low note to end the Pink Panther series on is an understatement to say the least. No matter how hard the cast is trying to make the film as entertaining as they can, the painfully unfunny script and questionable storyline prove that it was time to retire the franchise once and for all. Unless you're a die hard Pink Panther fan, skip this film at all turns, as it offers little to nothing for regular viewers and fails as an introduction to a new generation. It is sad to say that this would end up being Blake Edwards' swan song, for his legacy is worth cherishing more than this lame feature.
The film centers on the kidnapping of Princess Yasmin from Lugash, leading to Chief Inspector Dreyfus having to find her on account of France's strong ties with the country. Upon encountering local police officer Jacques Gambrelli, son of Jacques Clouseau and Maria Gambrelli from A Shot in the Dark, both men set out to find the missing Princess in spite of their shenanigans. With a premise of Inspector Clouseau's illegitimate son coming into play, one would think this would be a nice way to continue the magic of the series. Unfortunately, outside of general exposition from Maria Gambrelli on her son's origins, little is done to do anything unique with Clouseau jr other than the usual slapstick shenanigans with Dreyfus. Although Roberto Benigni is certainly doing his best in continuing the accident prone formula, his physical talents only do so much entertainment wise. At this point in the series, it seems like Edwards had long since exhausted what could be done and couldn't bother doing anything to make this film work for a new generation that hadn't grown up on the movies prior.
Outside of tired slapstick, the film does try to lighten the suspense up with dangerous stakes in regards to Princess Yasmin's kidnapping. Robert Davi pulls off a chilling performance as the chief kidnapper Hans Zabra, and the film does admittedly get its better sequences out of his team's presence alone. That being said, most of the action scenes feel tact on to keep the momentum going, not helped by how flat Yasmin is as a macguffin. On top of being played by producer Tony Adams' then wife Debrah Farentino, she is all looks and no character and feels more like an excuse for forced romantic chemistry between Yasmin and Gambrelli. At this point in the series, the movies can't decide whether they want to be fully goofy comedies or intense capers. One would even wonder why Jacques would be Clouseau's son in the first place when he could have easily been another accident prone cop like Ted Wass in the last Pink Panther outing. I guess having Claudia Cardinale back as Maria Gambrelli (replacing Elke Sommer) is a good enough excuse in the filmmaker's minds.
Going into any notable positives, the absolute highlight of the feature would definitely be the opening credits. On top of a groovy rendition of the iconic Pink Panther theme done by folk jazz singer Bobby McFerrin, the animation of the panther itself and a caricature of Benigni's Gambrelli continue the well timed pratfalls. By having the entire take place within one location, a recording studio booth where McFerrin and backup perform, the comical hijinks between both cartoon characters feel well confined within their environments enough to make for a strong start before all goes downhill. In addition to this being the last film to be scored by Henry Mancini, the production design makes good use of shooting on location in southeastern France and Jordan next to the UK. While the battle sequences are slightly bogged down by the obnoxious slapstick, the sets are marvelous in how grand the scope of it all is. Even when a feature is clearly dead in the water, you can still accompany it with some strong production values every now and then.
To call Son of the Pink Panther a low note to end the Pink Panther series on is an understatement to say the least. No matter how hard the cast is trying to make the film as entertaining as they can, the painfully unfunny script and questionable storyline prove that it was time to retire the franchise once and for all. Unless you're a die hard Pink Panther fan, skip this film at all turns, as it offers little to nothing for regular viewers and fails as an introduction to a new generation. It is sad to say that this would end up being Blake Edwards' swan song, for his legacy is worth cherishing more than this lame feature.