Panther lore abounds. Jacques Clouseau's name is said to have been inspired by the director Henri Georges Clouzot, his demeanor by the maladroit M. Hulot in Jacques Tati's comedies. But there's also the story of Peter, on the airplane to Rome, fishing a book of matches out of his pocket and instantly basing the comportment of his new character on the hero depicted thereon-the mustachioed Capt. Matthew Webb, who, in 1875, had become the first man to swim the English Channel. It makes a good anecdote, but it's not especially convincing, since Peter had been a sucker for a fake mustache since he was a teenager in Ilfracombe. lore abounds. Jacques Clouseau's name is said to have been inspired by the director Henri Georges Clouzot, his demeanor by the maladroit M. Hulot in Jacques Tati's comedies. But there's also the story of Peter, on the airplane to Rome, fishing a book of matches out of his pocket and instantly basing the comportment of his new character on the hero depicted thereon-the mustachioed Capt. Matthew Webb, who, in 1875, had become the first man to swim the English Channel. It makes a good anecdote, but it's not especially convincing, since Peter had been a sucker for a fake mustache since he was a teenager in Ilfracombe.

As for the accent, despite Peter's having done Frenchmen at least since 1945, Blake Edwards declares that it was really his his invention: "I ran into a French concierge who talked liked this. And he did it for me. And I said, 'We've gotta do it.'" invention: "I ran into a French concierge who talked liked this. And he did it for me. And I said, 'We've gotta do it.'"

A better genesis story comes from Max Geldray, who remains convinced that Peter, on the suggestion of Michael Bentine, based Inspector Jacques Clouseau on one of Princess Margaret's hairdressers.

Shooting on The Pink Panther The Pink Panther commenced on Monday, November 12, 1962, and in a certain sense it continued sporadically for the next sixteen years. And of course it was Sellers rather than Niven who emerged upon commenced on Monday, November 12, 1962, and in a certain sense it continued sporadically for the next sixteen years. And of course it was Sellers rather than Niven who emerged upon the film's release as the key to its charm and popularity. Peter used to claim, not without a certain accuracy, that Clouseau became such a hero because of the character's bedrock dignity in the face of his own buffoonishness. He was specifically reminded of his own teenage years and the loss of his virginity: the film's release as the key to its charm and popularity. Peter used to claim, not without a certain accuracy, that Clouseau became such a hero because of the character's bedrock dignity in the face of his own buffoonishness. He was specifically reminded of his own teenage years and the loss of his virginity: "When I was making The Pink Panther The Pink Panther and playing the accident-prone Inspector Clouseau for the first time, I remembered the embarrassment I'd suffered struggling out of my nightwear so that I could get on with satisfying my barely containable passion. It made a good gag and consolidated the conviction I had about Clouseau that, in all circumstances, whatever boob he'd made, the man must keep his dignity-which gave him a certain pathetic charm that the girls found seductive. It all went back to the frustrations I suffered as a result of a lack of priorities in love-making." Still, one must never forget that Clouseau is first and foremost a moron, and that audiences all over the globe love to laugh at anyone so fiercely idiotic. and playing the accident-prone Inspector Clouseau for the first time, I remembered the embarrassment I'd suffered struggling out of my nightwear so that I could get on with satisfying my barely containable passion. It made a good gag and consolidated the conviction I had about Clouseau that, in all circumstances, whatever boob he'd made, the man must keep his dignity-which gave him a certain pathetic charm that the girls found seductive. It all went back to the frustrations I suffered as a result of a lack of priorities in love-making." Still, one must never forget that Clouseau is first and foremost a moron, and that audiences all over the globe love to laugh at anyone so fiercely idiotic.

Peter took to the role, but then he usually took to the roles he played to an alarming extent. While filming a Pink Panther Pink Panther scene on location, an onlooker accosted him. "Aren't you Peter Sellers?" the man asked, to which Peter replied, "Not today." scene on location, an onlooker accosted him. "Aren't you Peter Sellers?" the man asked, to which Peter replied, "Not today."

The Pink Panther's plot, like those of The Goon Show The Goon Show, is more or less irrelevant. It concerns a gentleman thief (Niven), whose partner in love and crime (Capucine) happens to be the wife of a hapless Parisian detective (Sellers). A fine gem goes missing in Rome. It belongs to Princess Darla (Claudia Cardinale). She wants it back. The gentleman thief's playboy nephew (Robert Wagner) romances the inspector's wife as well. Everyone goes to Cortina.

What makes The Pink Panther The Pink Panther work is Edwards's comic style and tone, which is given its most acute embodiment by Peter. Like Spike Milligan, Edwards finds comedy to be profoundly painful, and Peter generally agreed. Edwards had worked with Leo McCarey early in his career, and he credits McCarey-the director of such comedies as work is Edwards's comic style and tone, which is given its most acute embodiment by Peter. Like Spike Milligan, Edwards finds comedy to be profoundly painful, and Peter generally agreed. Edwards had worked with Leo McCarey early in his career, and he credits McCarey-the director of such comedies as Ruggles of Red Gap Ruggles of Red Gap (1935) and (1935) and The Awful Truth The Awful Truth (1937)-for teaching him the essential truth that humor can hurt. McCarey had a knack for extending tension-provoking comedy routines way past the audience's initial discomfort. "He called it 'breaking the pain barrier,'" Edwards recalls. Peter Sellers's Inspector Jacques Clouseau may be the pain barrier's apotheosis. (1937)-for teaching him the essential truth that humor can hurt. McCarey had a knack for extending tension-provoking comedy routines way past the audience's initial discomfort. "He called it 'breaking the pain barrier,'" Edwards recalls. Peter Sellers's Inspector Jacques Clouseau may be the pain barrier's apotheosis.

At the same time, Peter's performance in The Pink Panther The Pink Panther is is remarkably restrained. His accent is pronounced but not asinine, his physical comedy likewise. That would come later. remarkably restrained. His accent is pronounced but not asinine, his physical comedy likewise. That would come later.

The Mirisch Company, in association with United Artists, didn't open The Pink Panther The Pink Panther until February and March 1964 (in Britain and the United States, respectively), whereupon until February and March 1964 (in Britain and the United States, respectively), whereupon Time Time dismissed it, citing its "pervasive air of desperation," as though Edwards and Sellers's joint comedy style wasn't consciously based on cold despair. "Some of Sellers's sight gags are funny," the critic wrote, "but not funny enough." "A so-so comedy" sniffed the critic for dismissed it, citing its "pervasive air of desperation," as though Edwards and Sellers's joint comedy style wasn't consciously based on cold despair. "Some of Sellers's sight gags are funny," the critic wrote, "but not funny enough." "A so-so comedy" sniffed the critic for Cue Cue. But the Hollywood trade paper Variety Variety pegged it correctly: "A vintage record of the farcical Sellers at his peak." pegged it correctly: "A vintage record of the farcical Sellers at his peak."

Looking back on it, Robert Wagner attributes Sellers's performance to his disruptive interior life. Sellers was able to achieve so much variety in his art because, as Wagner puts it, he "had such a circus going on within his head."

Blake Edwards is even more succinct: "I think he lived a great part of his life in hell."

Peter Sellers was at the top of his game, his fame, his taste in projects, and his luck, and he was visibly miserable much of the time, so through the guidance of Harry Secombe, he sought spiritual advice from a priest.

The sanest and best-natured Goon, Secombe was active in the Actors' Church Union and, seeing his old friend in increasing distress, made a point of introducing Peter to Canon John Hester. This priest's particular ministry was to men and women whose shifting identities earned them their daily bread, and still, Peter Sellers presented a special case. "Peter never really settled, and he seemed aware that this was a real problem," Hester later said, referring to Sellers's spiritual life more than to his locale. "He was never baptized, and a lot of our sessions were about the possibility of this happening." (That a Jew would not have been baptized ought to go without saying, so Hester, in his restrained Anglican way, left it unsaid that Peter considered converting to Christianity.) "He never came very near to settling on any single manifestation of faith," Hester continued. "He was looking in all sorts of directions, just as if he were playing with one of those cameras of his." The baptism failed to occur, then or ever-though another equally sacred Roman Catholic ritual later did-and Peter continued on his unsteady course, ceaselessly seeking and unable to rest. later did-and Peter continued on his unsteady course, ceaselessly seeking and unable to rest.

Peter's theological beliefs resembled his relationships with women. He was a spiritual compulsive whose piety carried with it an attendant poison, the latter bringing about another upsurge of the former. "He made great demands," Peter's priest acknowledged. "Having been your best friend, he could then turn on you and be quite vile. I have some letters from him which are really beastly. He would stab you in the back and then be very penitent."

He craved the spiritual strength he lacked, and he thought the same should apply to his money. To be "financially impregnable"-that was Peter's goal in the material world.

"If one has money one should spend it wisely," Peter told the Hollywood columnist Sidney Skolsky. "There are things that give me pleasure, and it's only fair to me to lavish them on myself. After all, I've earned the money. I didn't steal it, though a lot of people who have seen my pictures may think so."

He told another eager interviewer, "And only seven years ago, I practically had less pounds in the bank than I had in my body. I got rich by working hard and not not following Socrates's advice. 'Know thyself.' I couldn't follow it even if I wanted to." following Socrates's advice. 'Know thyself.' I couldn't follow it even if I wanted to."

By 1963, he was earning an annual income of 150,000. In order to manage it to its best advantage, his accountant Bill Wills tried once again to enforce an allowance: Wills began doling out Peter's spending money in 20,000 installments, the rest to be stashed in a Swiss account. It was the same system as the 12 per week Wills had given Peter in the old days, but as though on cue, Peter rendered the matter moot by purchasing a seventy-five-foot, 75,000, custom-built yacht. (An American newspaper valued the yacht at $215,000.) A string of new apartment rentals also cut into Peter's balance sheet. These flats were not for Peter himself but rather for a string of girlfriends. He scarcely wanted to live live with these young women, after all, but he felt he owed them something for their trouble, and housing seemed a fair trade. with these young women, after all, but he felt he owed them something for their trouble, and housing seemed a fair trade.

The task of finding and renting these flats fell to Hattie Stevenson. The leases she produced for Peter's signature were inevitably longer than the relationships themselves, some of which lasted but a night or two. There was no pause in this trajectory, no relief, but Peter's luck remained uncanny, for his state of mind, now in constant crisis, found itself coinciding with a film about the end of all human life. was no pause in this trajectory, no relief, but Peter's luck remained uncanny, for his state of mind, now in constant crisis, found itself coinciding with a film about the end of all human life.

Stanley Kubrick nursed a morbid interest in thermonuclear war, and like most sane people, he personalized it. In the late 1950s, when he was living on East 10th Street in New York, he well understood that his apartment was located in the heart of one of the world's top three bombing targets, so he contemplated a move to Australia, an unlikely ground zero. Kubrick's fascination with global immolation was further amplified by a novel he considered adapting for the screen. Written by an ex-RAF officer and spy who had become active in the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament, Peter George's Red Alert Red Alert was the tale of a U.S. Army general who, consumed by suicidal depression, dispatches forty bombers to destroy the Soviet Union. It was not a funny book. (Peter George published was the tale of a U.S. Army general who, consumed by suicidal depression, dispatches forty bombers to destroy the Soviet Union. It was not a funny book. (Peter George published Red Alert Red Alert under the pseudonym Peter Bryant; he titled an earlier version under the pseudonym Peter Bryant; he titled an earlier version Two Hours to Doom Two Hours to Doom.) Kubrick initially worked with George to develop a screenplay, but as he brooded on the basic scenario, his creative intelligence drew him from doomsday thriller to satire. One night, he and his producer, James B. Harris, just couldn't help themselves: they dreamt up comedy scenes involving the practicalities of humanity's annihilation. Kubrick himself described a bit of business from their improvisational game: "What would happen in the War Room if everybody's hungry and they want the guy from the deli to come in and a waiter with an apron around him takes the sandwich order?"

Peter George (who committed suicide in 1966 at the age of forty-one) failed to see the humor. So Kubrick asked the cartoonist and playwright Jules Feiffer to take up the script, but that collaboration didn't go very far either. "My idea of an anti-nuclear satire and Stanley's were miles apart," Feiffer said later.

In December 1962, Kubrick told the New York Times New York Times that he and Harris were hard at work on a project with a nuclear theme and that Peter Sellers would star. Sellers, he said, would play "an American college professor who rises to power in sex and politics by becoming a nuclear wise man." They planned to shoot the film mostly on location "here in the East and elsewhere this September." Their new film would have a very long title: that he and Harris were hard at work on a project with a nuclear theme and that Peter Sellers would star. Sellers, he said, would play "an American college professor who rises to power in sex and politics by becoming a nuclear wise man." They planned to shoot the film mostly on location "here in the East and elsewhere this September." Their new film would have a very long title: Dr. Strangelove, or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb Dr. Strangelove, or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964). (1964).

The Times Times account seemed simple enough, but behind the scenes it was a more complicated series of deals, breakups, and pleas that brought account seemed simple enough, but behind the scenes it was a more complicated series of deals, breakups, and pleas that brought Dr. Strangelove Dr. Strangelove into being. Harris and Kubrick's deal for into being. Harris and Kubrick's deal for Lolita Lolita, which they had forged with Ray Stark and Seven Arts, entailed a commitment from Harris-Kubrick for another film for Seven Arts. But Harris, having worked with Kubrick on The Killing The Killing (1956), (1956), Paths of Glory Paths of Glory (1957), and (1957), and Lolita Lolita by that point, decided to make a break with his colleague and strike out on his own, and the collapse of the partnership brought with it artistic as well as business consequences. It had been Harris who had (re)written the screenplay for by that point, decided to make a break with his colleague and strike out on his own, and the collapse of the partnership brought with it artistic as well as business consequences. It had been Harris who had (re)written the screenplay for Lolita Lolita in addition to producing the film, and it had been Harris whose like-minded imagination had instigated Kubrick's tilt toward comedy for the nuclear disaster project. And now, with Harris-Kubrick dissolving, the Seven Arts production connection disappeared as well. Columbia Pictures took over in addition to producing the film, and it had been Harris whose like-minded imagination had instigated Kubrick's tilt toward comedy for the nuclear disaster project. And now, with Harris-Kubrick dissolving, the Seven Arts production connection disappeared as well. Columbia Pictures took over Dr. Strangelove Dr. Strangelove.

Peter Sellers ended up helping to solve both the artistic and the business problems, though not without putting Kubrick into a bit of a pique in the process. The aesthetic solution occurred because someone had given Peter a copy of a strange and flamboyant novel called The Magic Christian The Magic Christian by the American writer Terry Southern. (Whether that someone was the satirist Jonathan Miller or the novelist Henry Green is disputed.) Peter, flush with excitement over finding a kindred worldview, began doling out copies as gifts to all of his friends. Kubrick was one of the recipients. Columbia Pictures, meanwhile, was certain that by the American writer Terry Southern. (Whether that someone was the satirist Jonathan Miller or the novelist Henry Green is disputed.) Peter, flush with excitement over finding a kindred worldview, began doling out copies as gifts to all of his friends. Kubrick was one of the recipients. Columbia Pictures, meanwhile, was certain that Lolita Lolita succeeded not because of Stanley Kubrick or James Mason or the film's provocative topic, but because of Peter Sellers and his many masks, and when the studio assumed financial control of succeeded not because of Stanley Kubrick or James Mason or the film's provocative topic, but because of Peter Sellers and his many masks, and when the studio assumed financial control of Dr. Strangelove Dr. Strangelove, it stipulated that Peter not only star in the film but also that he appear in multiple roles. Kubrick got along well with Peter, but he was still annoyed at front-office interference in a decision he considered his alone. "What we are dealing with is film by fiat, film by frenzy!" he fumed.

Terry Southern, meanwhile, had learned that Peter had given a copy of The Magic Christian The Magic Christian to Kubrick and suggested to his friend George Plimpton, editor of the to Kubrick and suggested to his friend George Plimpton, editor of the Paris Review Paris Review, that he, Southern, write a profile of Kubrick for the journal. Or Atlantic Monthly Atlantic Monthly. Or maybe Esquire Esquire.... It was an enticing proposal-a great, hip writer profiling a great, hip director, and all three magazines expressed interest. Esquire Esquire ultimately assigned the piece. ultimately assigned the piece.

Southern's first interview with Kubrick began on a more or less standard track. But then, as Southern described it, "Somehow or other we get into this rather heavy rap-about death death, and infinity infinity, and the origin of time the origin of time-you know the sort of thing. We never got through with the interview." Something much better than a celebrity profile took its place: "We met a few times, had a few laughs and some groovy rap... and then about three months later he called from London and asked me to come over and work on Strangelove Strangelove." Southern said that Kubrick "had thought of the story as 'a straightforward melodrama' until... he 'woke up and realized that nuclear war was too outrageous, too fantastic to be treated in any conventional manner.' He said he could only see it now as 'some kind of hideous joke.'"

Complicating matters was the fact that Peter refused to leave England for the duration of the production. Whether it was because of the tension of his divorce, which was finalized in March, or his latest affair-with the British actress and former child star Janette Scott-the result was that Peter wouldn't budge out of Britain. Kubrick thus felt he had to go begging. He's said to have shown up late at night in the lobby of Peter's Hampstead apartment building, where he would simply wait for Peter to arrive from his nights on the town, whereupon the director would spend the early hours of the morning cajoling the partied-out movie star. Peter succumbed to the pressure, in addition to the million dollars (a most significant raise) and the promise to film at Shepperton. Peter also wangled himself a luxury suite in town at the Dorchester for the duration of the shoot. He liked to stay in town after work.

"To me it's like having three different great actors," Kubrick said in response to a Queen Queen magazine reporter's question about why he cast Sellers in multiple roles. But there was supposed to have been a fourth and maybe, if one believes Peter, even a fifth. Originally, Sellers was signed to play the President of the United States, Merkin Muffley; the British Group Captain Lionel Mandrake; the eponymous nuclear physicist; and Major T. J. "King" Kong, the whooping Texan who eventually straddles an atom bomb like a broncobuster at the end of the film. But in Sellers's own account, he "was going to do them magazine reporter's question about why he cast Sellers in multiple roles. But there was supposed to have been a fourth and maybe, if one believes Peter, even a fifth. Originally, Sellers was signed to play the President of the United States, Merkin Muffley; the British Group Captain Lionel Mandrake; the eponymous nuclear physicist; and Major T. J. "King" Kong, the whooping Texan who eventually straddles an atom bomb like a broncobuster at the end of the film. But in Sellers's own account, he "was going to do them all! all!"

"Stanley was convinced I could. I could do no wrong, you see. Some days Stanley used to be sitting outside my front door saying, 'What about Buck Schmuck Turgidson [the role played by George C. Scott]? You've got got to play Buck Schmuck!' And I'd say, 'I physically can't do it! I don't like to play Buck Schmuck!' And I'd say, 'I physically can't do it! I don't like the role anyway, Stan. And I'll try to do the [Kong] thing, but, I mean, I think that's the role anyway, Stan. And I'll try to do the [Kong] thing, but, I mean, I think that's enough enough.'"

But there was a problem with Kong, too-one that made little sense at the time and makes even less in retrospect. The world's greatest mimic found himself unable to produce the twangy drawl of a Texan. It just wasn't happening.

Because of Peter's long-standing need for a vocal model on which to hang his performance, Kubrick assigned a genuine Texan-Terry Southern, of Alvarado, Johnson County-the task of making a recording of Kong's dialogue. Some time elapsed before Kubrick convinced Peter to listen to the tape, but Sellers eventually appeared for the requested hearing at Kubrick's offices at Shepperton. At that point it was Kubrick's turn to become nutty. When Peter "finally did show up," Southern later wrote, "he had with him the latest state-of-the-art portable tape recorder, specially designed for learning languages. Its ultrasensitive earphones were so oversized they resembled some kind of eccentric hat or space headgear. From the office [Kubrick and Southern] would see Sellers pacing between the lilac bushes, script in hand, his face tiny and obscured beneath his earphones. Kubrick found it a disturbing image. 'Is he kidding?' he said. 'That's exactly the sort of thing that would bring some British heat down for weirdness.'

"I laughed," Southern continued, "but he wasn't joking. He phoned the production manager, Victor Lyndon, right away. 'Listen, Victor,' I heard him say, 'you'd better check out Pete and those earphones. He may be stressing.... Well, I think he ought to cool it with the earphones. Yeah, it looks like he's trying to ridicule the BBC or something, know what I'm saying? All we need is to get shut down for a crazy stunt like that. Jesus Christ!'" (In point of fact, Victor Lyndon was the associate producer of Dr. Strangelove Dr. Strangelove; Clifton Brandon was the production manager.) Peter tried tried to do the accent. According to Southern, the first day of shooting consisted of one of Kong's B-52 bomber scenes, and Kubrick was pleased with the results of Peter's performance. But the next day, Kubrick took a phone call from Victor Lyndon. Bad news. Peter had slipped while getting out of a Buick in front of an Indian restaurant on King's Road. A sprained ankle was theorized. to do the accent. According to Southern, the first day of shooting consisted of one of Kong's B-52 bomber scenes, and Kubrick was pleased with the results of Peter's performance. But the next day, Kubrick took a phone call from Victor Lyndon. Bad news. Peter had slipped while getting out of a Buick in front of an Indian restaurant on King's Road. A sprained ankle was theorized.

Peter returned to the set that afternoon and filming resumed without incident, but after breaking for tea, Kubrick suddenly altered the shooting schedule. Without warning, he told Peter to climb down two separate ladders into the belly of the plane. Southern witnessed: "Sellers negotiated the first, but coming down the second, at about the fourth rung from the bottom, one of his legs abruptly buckled, and he tumbled and sprawled, in obvious pain, on the unforgiving bomb-bay floor." first, but coming down the second, at about the fourth rung from the bottom, one of his legs abruptly buckled, and he tumbled and sprawled, in obvious pain, on the unforgiving bomb-bay floor."

The next day Victor Lyndon was once again the bearer of bad tidings. Peter had not only seen his doctor, he'd made his injury known to the men who mattered: "The completion bond people know about Peter's injury and the physical demands of the Major Kong role," Lyndon reported. "They say they'll pull out if he plays the part."

It wasn't as though Peter would actually have had to fall very far, but it was apparently too too far for the fearful Peter, the prop bomb being poised about ten feet off the floor. "He didn't fancy dropping out on the bomb" is Bert Mortimer's explanation. Hattie Stevenson goes further: "It was far for the fearful Peter, the prop bomb being poised about ten feet off the floor. "He didn't fancy dropping out on the bomb" is Bert Mortimer's explanation. Hattie Stevenson goes further: "It was not not a broken ankle, but he still insisted on getting put in a plaster cast so he could get out of the part." a broken ankle, but he still insisted on getting put in a plaster cast so he could get out of the part."

Diagnostics aside, Kubrick needed an actor on short notice. It has been reported that Kubrick approached John Wayne and that Wayne instantly refused. Terry Southern's companion, Gail Gerber, recalls that Southern himself proposed the fat Bonanza Bonanza cowboy, Dan Blocker, who also found cowboy, Dan Blocker, who also found Dr. Strangelove Dr. Strangelove to be too left-leaning for his taste. Slim Pickens had no such political qualms and, so, at the end of the film, it is Pickens who literally goes down in film history by descending deliriously on the bomb that destroys the planet. But then Pickens became a problem for Peter. Hattie Stevenson claims that Sellers "was infuriated, really frightfully angry that Slim Pickens played the part so well in the end." to be too left-leaning for his taste. Slim Pickens had no such political qualms and, so, at the end of the film, it is Pickens who literally goes down in film history by descending deliriously on the bomb that destroys the planet. But then Pickens became a problem for Peter. Hattie Stevenson claims that Sellers "was infuriated, really frightfully angry that Slim Pickens played the part so well in the end."

As though a satire about bombing all of humanity to death wasn't gruesome enough, Kubrick brought in as a technical consultant the photographer Weegee, who was known for having taken stark, emotionally charged photographs of an estimated five thousand murder scenes over the course of his grim career. Named Usher Fellig at birth, Weegee moved with his family to New York at the age of ten; officials at Ellis Island changed his name to Arthur. As a photographer, he seemed to be clairvoyant in terms of knowing where crimes had been committed; Weegee often arrived on the scene before the police. Hence his nickname (inspired by the Ouija board). Officially, Weegee's technical consultations involved Dr. Strangelove Dr. Strangelove's periodically harsh, crime-scenelike black-and-white cinematography, but because he had an unusual accent-German overlaid with New York, all with a nasal, slightly strangled, back-of-the-throat quality-he inadvertently provided technical assistance for the film's star as well. York, all with a nasal, slightly strangled, back-of-the-throat quality-he inadvertently provided technical assistance for the film's star as well.

"I vas psychic!," Weegee told Peter on the set one day-a conversation Peter was taping for research purposes. "I vould go to a moidah before it vas committed!" Peter's vocal model for Strangelove was Weegee, whom Sellers pushed further into parody.

(Contemporary audiences sometimes assume that Strangelove's accent was based at least in part on Henry Kissinger's, but although Kissinger was one of Kennedy's security advisors, he was not a public figure when Dr. Strangelove Dr. Strangelove was made. Kubrick himself denied the association: "I think this is slightly unfair to Kissinger.... It was certainly unintentional. Neither Peter nor I had ever seen Kissinger before the film was shot.") was made. Kubrick himself denied the association: "I think this is slightly unfair to Kissinger.... It was certainly unintentional. Neither Peter nor I had ever seen Kissinger before the film was shot.") Principal photography began in January 1963.

"He was harder to reach," Kubrick said of Peter, comparing his friend's demeanor on the set of Dr. Strangelove Dr. Strangelove to the already unusual actor with whom he'd made to the already unusual actor with whom he'd made Lolita Lolita. Sellers would arrive in the morning in what one of Kubrick's biographers, John Baxter, calls a "near-torpor, saying very little, looking depressed, tired, and ill. Only when Kubrick began to set up the cameras-of which he always used at least three for any Sellers scene-did he begin to revive. By the afternoon, coaxed by Kubrick, he would have hit his stride."

"Kubrick is a god as far as I am concerned," Sellers said later.

As with Lolita Lolita, Kubrick began the making of Dr. Strangelove Dr. Strangelove by giving Peter free rein to improvise. Kubrick would then pick out what he liked and build the film accordingly. During one take of a scene with Strangelove, for example, Sellers, without warning, shot his arm in the air and shouted "Heil Hitler!" Sellers recalled the moment: "One day Stanley suggested that I should wear a black glove, which would look rather sinister on a man in a wheelchair. 'Maybe he had some injury in a nuclear experiment of some sort,' Kubrick said. So I put on the black glove and looked at the arm and I suddenly thought, 'Hey, that's a storm-trooper's arm.' So instead of leaving it there looking malignant I gave the arm a life of its own. That arm hated the rest of the body for having made a compromise. That arm was a Nazi." by giving Peter free rein to improvise. Kubrick would then pick out what he liked and build the film accordingly. During one take of a scene with Strangelove, for example, Sellers, without warning, shot his arm in the air and shouted "Heil Hitler!" Sellers recalled the moment: "One day Stanley suggested that I should wear a black glove, which would look rather sinister on a man in a wheelchair. 'Maybe he had some injury in a nuclear experiment of some sort,' Kubrick said. So I put on the black glove and looked at the arm and I suddenly thought, 'Hey, that's a storm-trooper's arm.' So instead of leaving it there looking malignant I gave the arm a life of its own. That arm hated the rest of the body for having made a compromise. That arm was a Nazi."

"I don't think he made up a whole scene that didn't already exist," Kubrick reported, "but he did a bit of embroidery. In the famous phone call to the Russian premier, for instance, he may have added the rueful line, 'Well, how do you think call to the Russian premier, for instance, he may have added the rueful line, 'Well, how do you think I I feel, Dimitri?'" feel, Dimitri?'"

Some of Peter's inventions didn't work, and Kubrick nipped them in the bud. For instance, Peter originally played the obscenely named Merkin Muffley as a limp-wristed clown with a nasal inhaler. That was Peter's inspiration; Kubrick's was to have Muffley rise into place in the War Room on a hydraulic lift. But between the lift and the nasal spray, the cast and crew laughed so hard that Kubrick couldn't get a usable take. Apart from the fact that this single bit wasted an entire afternoon, Kubrick didn't like the broadness of Sellers's performance in it. In the director's vision of the character, Muffley should have been the only sane person in the room, and so the lift and the inhaler were cut and the scene reworked. This time, an American political figure did strongly influence the characterization: Muffley is a parody of Adlai Stevenson, a bland intellectual nominally in command of a gang of military madmen.

Peter embraced the new Muffley so fully that Hattie Stevenson couldn't even identify her own boss under his makeup: "I shall never forget while he was making Dr. Strangelove Dr. Strangelove, he asked me to pop down to the studios with some letters. I walked onto the set-the very lavish one they had when he was playing the bald-headed president-they had just broken for lunch-and I walked straight past him. Having worked for him for two or three years, I didn't even recognize him."

The War Room set to which Stevenson refers was designed by Ken Adam, the art director responsible for the looks of such disparate but equally eye-catching films as Around the World in 80 Days Around the World in 80 Days (1956), (1956), Curse of the Demon Curse of the Demon (1957), and (1957), and Dr. No Dr. No (1962). Adam supervised its construction in Shepperton's Stage B: Twelve-hundred square meters of polished black flooring; a massive circular table, also black; a demonic halo of a chandelier suspended above the table; and a looming map of the world, with tiny lightbulbs representing centers of human population. Complementing Adam's design were the actors' dark, nearly identical military costumes (plus Muffley's (1962). Adam supervised its construction in Shepperton's Stage B: Twelve-hundred square meters of polished black flooring; a massive circular table, also black; a demonic halo of a chandelier suspended above the table; and a looming map of the world, with tiny lightbulbs representing centers of human population. Complementing Adam's design were the actors' dark, nearly identical military costumes (plus Muffley's schvach schvach dark suit), all made in wool. Unseen by the spectator are the felt overshoes everyone wore to protect Adam's immaculate jet-black floor. It was all very warm. dark suit), all made in wool. Unseen by the spectator are the felt overshoes everyone wore to protect Adam's immaculate jet-black floor. It was all very warm.

The War Room is graced by banquet tables full of food, including a seemingly endless parade of custard pies. In Kubrick's vision, this was the way the world would end, not only with a bang but with slapstick. The original concluding scene of Dr. Strangelove Dr. Strangelove: With all hope lost, Strangelove, having fallen out of his wheelchair, rolls around on the lustrous black floor while President Muffley demands a search of the Soviet Ambassador DeSadesky's body cavities-"in view of the tininess of your equipment." "The seven bodily orifices!" Buck Turgidson cries, whereupon George C. Scott points directly at the camera-it's a point-of-view shot taken from DeSadesky's perspective. Buck ducks, causing the President of the United States to be struck by a pie. Muffley collapses into Turgidson's arms, a modern Pieta.

Turgidson: "Mr. President! Mr. President! [No response.] Gentlemen, our beloved president has just been infamously struck down by a pie in the prime of life! Are we going to let that happen? Massive retaliation! Massive retaliation!"

In jittery fast-motion, everyone in the War Room begins to hurl cream pies, all to the tune of hopped-up silent-movie music. Great globs of white custard cover the floor; Buck skids on it. The huge round chandelier swings as men climb on top of the conference table. Kubrick includes a tracking shot of a line of men ending with Buck atop somebody's shoulders; you can see him stuff a handful of pie into his mouth between throws. A subsequent master shot of the room makes the brilliantly lit table look like a boxing ring.

Suddenly, a gunshot. It's Strangelove firing into the air. Kubrick cuts to a high angle shot. Strangelove: "Gentlemen! Ve must stop zis childish game! There is verk-verk!-to do!"

Kubrick then cuts to a high angle shot of a physically recovered but mentally stricken Muffley sitting on the floor opposite DeSadesky amid a lunar landscape of custard, craters, and crust. Drenched in it, they're happily building meringue mudpies and sandcastles. Kubrick cranes down to floor level to watch them play at closer range; the president destroys his own castle.

Strangelove speaks: "Zis is regretable, but I think their minds have snepped from the strain!" Peter bites down on every word: "Perhaps they Vill Heff To Be In-Stit-Utiona-Lized!" Buck Turgidson responds by calling for a three-cheer salute to Strangelove, at which point Kubrick brings Vera Lynn onto the sound track. She's singing the World War II chestnut "We'll Meet Again."

George C. Scott later claimed that they'd "shot a thousand pies a day for a week"; one of Kubrick's biographers, Vincent LoBrutto, doubles both figures. Terry Southern remembered it differently: "The studio representatives, who were skeptical of the scene all along, had been excruciatingly clear about the matter: 'We're talkin' one take. One take and you're outta here, even if you only got shit in the can!'" figures. Terry Southern remembered it differently: "The studio representatives, who were skeptical of the scene all along, had been excruciatingly clear about the matter: 'We're talkin' one take. One take and you're outta here, even if you only got shit in the can!'"

Whatever actually occurred, it didn't matter, because Kubrick cut the sequence. "It was too farcical and not consistent with the satiric tone of the rest of the film," he later explained.

Southern believed that this was because the characters were enjoying themselves too much: "He [Kubrick] believed that watching people have fun is never funny." (Even in the final cut of Dr. Strangelove Dr. Strangelove, Peter Bull, who plays DeSadesky, cracks up onscreen during one of Peter's gestures. Bull remains embarrassed about his inability to keep a straight face, "grinning in an obvious and inane way. [It] makes me blush to think of it.") As far as the custard pie sequence is concerned, Kubrick was right; it doesn't work. History also intervened in the cutting of the legendary, supposedly lost sequence. (It exists in the archives of the British Film Institute.) Test screenings of Dr. Strangelove, or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb Dr. Strangelove, or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb were conducted in late November 1963. Given the artistic failure of the sequence, the question of whether it took the assassination of President Kennedy to cause the sequence to be deleted is irrelevant. were conducted in late November 1963. Given the artistic failure of the sequence, the question of whether it took the assassination of President Kennedy to cause the sequence to be deleted is irrelevant.

With Dr. Strangelove Dr. Strangelove, Peter Sellers achieved genius once again. His three characters are variegated, complex, and refined. He effaces himself as an actor, but not completely; he invites his audience to appreciate his performance as a stylistic tour de force, but he doesn't issue the invitation hammily. He lets his characters speak for themselves, and yet they do so with Sellers's unique panache.

He gives Mandrake that slight British slack-jaw quality, ending each of his sentences with his mouth left slightly agape, perhaps in expectation of receiving a further command that would require a dutiful response. He's got the unflappable politesse of a seasoned British military officer, one who, facing atomic holocaust, responds in unflappable kind. He is above all an Englishman.

Muffley is an unnaturally placid, somewhat indigestive-looking middle-aged man with a flat, indistinguishable American accent and little hair. He's intelligent-perhaps too much so for the job. The nasal inhaler routine is reduced to a faint sniffle, which Muffley dabs methodically with a hanky. One of the most remarkable aspects of the performance is that Kubrick's camera keeps catching Muffley with an eerily neutral expression on his face. It's not Sellers in plain repose; it's a precisely studied lack of affect, the elimination of emotion without the simultaneous expulsion of intellect. reduced to a faint sniffle, which Muffley dabs methodically with a hanky. One of the most remarkable aspects of the performance is that Kubrick's camera keeps catching Muffley with an eerily neutral expression on his face. It's not Sellers in plain repose; it's a precisely studied lack of affect, the elimination of emotion without the simultaneous expulsion of intellect.

Time ticks by, but Muffley remains on his imperturbable course. He's on the phone with Kisoff, the Soviet premier: "Fine, I can hear you now, Dimitri-clear and plain and coming through fine. I'm coming through fine, too, then? Fine. Well then, as you say, we're both coming through fine. Good. Well then it's good that you're fine and, and I'm fine. I agree with you. It's great to be fine. [At this point even Muffley grows a bit frustrated and launches into a slightly sickly singsong tone in an attempt to steer the drunken Kisoff to the matter at hand.] Well then Dimitri. You know how we've always talked about something going wrong with the bomb? [Pause.] The bomb, Dimitri. [Pause.] The hydrogen hydrogen bomb." bomb."

But it's the grimace-grinning Strangelove who steals the show, for obvious reasons. Beyond his ghastly German accent, which transcends imitation no matter how often it has been imitated, Peter Sellers achieves pure grotesquerie on the level of physicality and intelligence combined. With his persistent baring of teeth while holding his lips rigid, Strangelove's mouth is a leering, terrifying rictus, and everything that comes out of it is infected. With a high-pitched nasality, he spits nothing but contempt for the self-evidently lower-functioning brains of his so-called peers in the War Room. And yet he cannot master his own right arm, which flails or goes rigid on its own schedule. He bites it; it keeps coming. It tries to strangle him. At one point it drops to the side, seemingly lifeless, at which point he begins frantically beating on it with his left hand, attempting beyond all reason to revive the monstrous thing-an improvised gesture.

It is this that causes Peter Bull, standing to Peter's right, to break out into unrestrained laughter. Kubrick found Peter's raw spontaneity more important than a background actor's giggle, so he used that take rather than reshooting it.

Dr. Strangelove ends with a miracle. Peter, as the brilliant but decrepit Strangelove, a technical genius but not a whole man, rises out of his ends with a miracle. Peter, as the brilliant but decrepit Strangelove, a technical genius but not a whole man, rises out of his wheelchair and hobbles stiffly across the shiny floor. It's shot low-angle, like an aggrandizing ad for a crippled children's hospital, except, of course, that the angle is aggrandizing a madman and the world is blowing up. wheelchair and hobbles stiffly across the shiny floor. It's shot low-angle, like an aggrandizing ad for a crippled children's hospital, except, of course, that the angle is aggrandizing a madman and the world is blowing up.

"Mein Fuehrer! I can walk! I can walk!" Cue Vera Lynne as a montage of mushroom clouds fills the screen.

THIRTEEN.

"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.

"You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."

The Hollywood gossip columnist and former actress Hedda Hopper had several items to report about Peter Sellers in 1963. Sarah and Michael had accompanied him on a trip to Hollywood in early summer, and he'd taken them to all three of the region's major amusement parks-Disneyland, Marineland, and Knott's Berry Farm. "The recently divorced Peter took out some glamour girls at night," Hopper noted, "but he says it's nothing serious." Peter had become quite the swinging single, and he finally had the body to go with the image. He weighed 158 pounds, down from his all-time high of 210.

On the professional front, Hopper and others reported that a second second Billy Wilder project had found its way onto Peter Sellers's horizon. Wilder had purchased the rights to the Sherlock Holmes characters from the estate of Arthur Conan Doyle, the scribes revealed, and he planned to write and direct a new Holmes film. Peter O'Toole was to be Sherlock, Peter Sellers Watson. Billy Wilder project had found its way onto Peter Sellers's horizon. Wilder had purchased the rights to the Sherlock Holmes characters from the estate of Arthur Conan Doyle, the scribes revealed, and he planned to write and direct a new Holmes film. Peter O'Toole was to be Sherlock, Peter Sellers Watson.

He recorded a new comedy album, Fool Britannia Fool Britannia, with Anthony Newley and Joan Collins; it was a warped-from-the-headlines satire of the Profumo sex scandal-involving John Profumo, the British Secretary of State for War; Eugene Ivanov, the Soviet Assistant Naval Attache and spy; and Christine Keeler, the showgirl they shared-that rocked Britain that year.

The Telegoons Telegoons arrived on British television in the fall of 1963-a puppet version of the radio series, with Peter, Harry, and Secombe providing the voices. arrived on British television in the fall of 1963-a puppet version of the radio series, with Peter, Harry, and Secombe providing the voices.

The director Jules Dassin offered him the lead role in his lavish heist comedy comedy Topkapi Topkapi, but when Peter learned that Maximilian Schell was being considered for the picture as well, he turned Dassin down. It makes little sense, but Schell and Sophia had costarred in a film already, and that apparently made Peter's participation in Topkapi Topkapi impossible. So Peter Ustinov took the role. impossible. So Peter Ustinov took the role.

Robert Aldrich considered making a film version of Brouhaha Brouhaha, of all things-with Peter, perhaps needless to say, in the leading role-but production delays on Aldrich's Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte stalled the project permanently. stalled the project permanently.

The comedy writer S. J. Perelman met with Peter and Harvey Orkin, one of his several agents; Perelman tried to persuade Peter to play all of the major roles in a film version of his play The Beauty Part The Beauty Part-Bert Lahr had played them onstage-but Peter seems not to have been interested, and the film was never made.

And the entertainment writer Joe Hyams told Elke Sommer that he had struck a deal with Peter to write his life story. But the deal fell apart and the book was never written.

In addition to the Los Angeles trip, Peter spirited his kids away on flash vacations, making up his mind suddenly and tearing into whatever new locale he'd chosen with a frenzy. As Bert Mortimer rather too colorfully put it, "for the first few days he'd rape the place."

Bert was given the job of taking family pictures, but Peter would soon grow bored and go off on his own, leaving the children in the care of Bert and Hattie. "He wanted the photos to establish that he'd had children," said Bert, "and was capable of playing the father to them the way fathers are supposed to do. The sad thing was, children really didn't interest him at all."

With Peter out of town so often, the task of accompanying Peg on shopping trips in her brand new Bentley fell to Hattie Stevenson. "Go and spend what you like, my darling," Peter told his mother, and "have it all charged to me." Off Peg went.

"I'm Peter Sellers's mother," she would proclaim upon entering any given shop. "And I want the best the best."

In the Boultings' Heavens Above Heavens Above (1963), Peg's son played a priest. (1963), Peg's son played a priest.

The Rev. John Smallwood (Peter) is appointed to the position of vicar at Holy Trinity in the parish of Orbiston Parva, a factory town dominated by the Despards, an old industrialist family. (They make "Tranquilax," a popular sedative, stimulant, and laxative.) He pays visits to the locals to discuss the residents' spiritual lives and finds that they have none. His first sermon is direct on this point: "This town is full of people who call themselves 'Christian,' but from what I've seen of it, I wouldn't mind taking a bet there aren't enough at Holy Trinity in the parish of Orbiston Parva, a factory town dominated by the Despards, an old industrialist family. (They make "Tranquilax," a popular sedative, stimulant, and laxative.) He pays visits to the locals to discuss the residents' spiritual lives and finds that they have none. His first sermon is direct on this point: "This town is full of people who call themselves 'Christian,' but from what I've seen of it, I wouldn't mind taking a bet there aren't enough real real Christians about to feed one decent lion." While constructing his character, Sellers once said, he stood in front of a mirror and suddenly realized that he was Brother Cornelius, his old teacher at St. Aloysius: "The Jewish boy knows his catechism better than the rest of you!" Christians about to feed one decent lion." While constructing his character, Sellers once said, he stood in front of a mirror and suddenly realized that he was Brother Cornelius, his old teacher at St. Aloysius: "The Jewish boy knows his catechism better than the rest of you!"

A squatter camp spreads its dingy self just outside the windows of the Tranquilax offices; Irene Handl plays the queen of the dump. At Smallwood's behest, the squatters move-to the grounds of the church. To the entrenched vestry's dismay, he brings in a black man, a Caribbean immigrant, as the new vicar's warden. He piles outrage upon outrage, and yet the vicar begins to have an effect upon Lady Despard, who, seeing the light of mercy and charity for the first time in her life, abruptly spurs the establishment of a church food bank. But like Ian Carmichael's character in I'm All Right, Jack I'm All Right, Jack, Smallwood only succeeds in provoking chaos.

As it happens, they've got the wrong John Smallwood; the real one (Ian Carmichael), shows up later, suitably complacent and patrician.

Peter's is a muted performance-priestly sincerity dusted with a thin veneer of a skilled actor's sardonic calculation, a balanced response on Sellers's part to what is at its Boulting-brothers core a cynical social comedy. Once again, the Boultings gently rib the rich, including the Church, and save their bitter wrath to shower on the ignorant poor. Then again, when the good people of Orbison Parva beat the Rev. Smallwood to a pulp at the end of Heaven's Above Heaven's Above, the crowd does appear to cross all class lines.

The World of Henry Orient (1964) took Peter back to New York for several weeks of shooting in July and August 1963. Written by Nunnally Johnson and his daughter, Nora Johnson, and directed by George Roy Hill, (1964) took Peter back to New York for several weeks of shooting in July and August 1963. Written by Nunnally Johnson and his daughter, Nora Johnson, and directed by George Roy Hill, Henry Orient Henry Orient concerns a pianist, not of the highest rank, and his absurd encounters with two Upper East Side schoolgirls (played by Tippy Walker and Merrie Spaeth), who find him dreamy. Budgeted at $2 million, concerns a pianist, not of the highest rank, and his absurd encounters with two Upper East Side schoolgirls (played by Tippy Walker and Merrie Spaeth), who find him dreamy. Budgeted at $2 million, The World of Henry The World of Henry Orient Orient was, according to the was, according to the Times Times, the most expensive movie ever filmed in New York.

Johnson, a longtime Hollywood screenwriter, was unhappy with Peter's casting as Henry; Johnson wanted Rex Harrison. According to George Roy Hill, the filmmakers had Oscar Levant in mind as the model for Henry, but that's most unfair to Levant, who was extraordinarily witty, urbane, and depressed, whereas Henry Orient is an unadulterated fool whose erotic interest lies in some unseen guy's neurotic wife (Paula Prentiss). In any event, Peter concocted one of his most bizarre voices for Henry. As he described it, "He has a dreadful Brooklynese accent, but in an attempt to appear cultured and charming, he hides it with a phony French accent." One critic described the result as "a cross between Rocky Graziano, Liberace, and Charles Boyer," an assessment that lands not far off the mark. ("Shut the door" comes out "Shu' de doerr.") Adding to the voice's complexity is its instability; Henry keeps slipping out of it, and as such he's one of Peter's most openly fragmented creations.

(Just to note: Nunnally Johnson's credits include the adaptation of John Steinbeck's novel The Grapes of Wrath The Grapes of Wrath, 1940, for John Ford; Fritz Lang's The Woman in the Window The Woman in the Window, 1944; and The Three Faces of Eve The Three Faces of Eve, 1959, which he directed. George Roy Hill went on to direct such hits as Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, 1969, and The Sting The Sting, 1973. And Oscar Levant was not from Brooklyn; he was from Pittsburgh.) Nora Johnson's initial reaction to Peter's performance was to be "jarred to the roots," though when she saw Henry Orient Henry Orient again many years later, she was "no longer jarred... it had somehow blended like old wine." again many years later, she was "no longer jarred... it had somehow blended like old wine."

During a location shoot on East 64th Street, the cameras and klieg lights drew a crowd. A New York City cop grew so weary of the many bystanders asking him what they were filming that he told one, "Guadalcanal Diary, lady."

For the most part, Peter remained serenely above the fray in his trailer drinking vodka and tonics and waiting to be called. He took the opportunity to show off his wardrobe for a reporter: the bright red lining of Orient's houndstooth jacket, his gold karate pants, his opera cape, his blue, custom-made Tillinger shirts with the initials HO embroidered on the cuffs. "This role will do great things for my image," Peter remarked.

Although Sellers brings star power to The World of Henry Orient The World of Henry Orient, his role is surprisingly small. The Johnsons' script originally contained a strange coda: Henry ends up playing the piano in a whorehouse. It had been written, in Nunnally Johnson's words, in case "more exposure was needed to keep Sellers happy." But George Roy Hill excised it from the script before filming even began. But even role is surprisingly small. The Johnsons' script originally contained a strange coda: Henry ends up playing the piano in a whorehouse. It had been written, in Nunnally Johnson's words, in case "more exposure was needed to keep Sellers happy." But George Roy Hill excised it from the script before filming even began. But even with with the coda the film would still have belonged to the two girls; the primary story would have remained theirs. Henry himself provides only a subplot. the coda the film would still have belonged to the two girls; the primary story would have remained theirs. Henry himself provides only a subplot.

Still, perhaps as part of the predictable backlash against a prolific star, many reviewers made a point of claiming that Merrie Spaeth and Tippy Walker "steal" the film away from Peter, who, owing to the script itself, had already ceded it to them. What with his accent and disagreeable character, it's a strange, high stakesgambling performance on Peter's part, a fact the director didn't seem to respect enough. George Roy Hill told the press when the film was released in February 1964, that "Sellers, for all his experience, actually comes off second best now and then due to these two kids," an attitude that scarcely endeared him to Peter, who flatly refused to work with him ever again.

Peter's offscreen life during the production of The World of Henry Orient The World of Henry Orient featured its own sad little comedy or two. Shortly after arriving in New York, Peter received a fan letter. It was from a blond girl. She enclosed a close-up of herself along with her note, and Peter quickly contacted her and invited her to join him. featured its own sad little comedy or two. Shortly after arriving in New York, Peter received a fan letter. It was from a blond girl. She enclosed a close-up of herself along with her note, and Peter quickly contacted her and invited her to join him.

Peter accompanied Bert and Hattie to the airport to pick her up, but just before she stepped off the plane he made sure to hide himself behind a pillar so he could give the thumbs-up (or -down) signal to his factotums. The fat girl emerged and was instantly vetoed.

He couldn't very well send her back on the next plane, could he? So Bert and Hattie took her to a hotel in midtown Manhattan-though emphatically not not the Plaza, which was where the Plaza, which was where he he was staying. They kept her sequestered there for a few days before telling her that, really, she might think about shedding a few pounds before meeting Mr. Sellers. Then Peter telephoned her himself and advised her of what he considered to be an acceptable weight, all this while attempting-and failing-to romance his happily married costar, Angela Lansbury, who plays the mother of one of the girls. was staying. They kept her sequestered there for a few days before telling her that, really, she might think about shedding a few pounds before meeting Mr. Sellers. Then Peter telephoned her himself and advised her of what he considered to be an acceptable weight, all this while attempting-and failing-to romance his happily married costar, Angela Lansbury, who plays the mother of one of the girls.

For three weeks he kept the girl waiting and dieting. Supposedly she lost thirty pounds, at which point Peter presented her with an engagement ring-in absentia, of course. Eventually he grew bored with the situation and sent the girl home, richer and thinner, never having met her face to face. lost thirty pounds, at which point Peter presented her with an engagement ring-in absentia, of course. Eventually he grew bored with the situation and sent the girl home, richer and thinner, never having met her face to face.

Of much more interest were the contestants in the Miss Universe pageant held in Miami Beach, where Peter served as one of the judges. Indeed, the playboy Sellers appeared to be turning the judging of beauty contests into something of a sustained hobby; a few months later he worked the Miss World pageant at the Lyceum Ballroom in London.

He bought another estate-Brookfield, located in Elstead, Surrey. (Surrey is just southwest of London.) It was his first adult home south of London; even with the out-there Chipperfield, Peter kept his geographical bearings secure. Apart from the fact that the Hampstead penthouse obviously had been contaminated by Ted Levy, Peter simply felt the familiar urge for newness. This time, it took the form of a fifteenth-century redbrick house with stone floors, lead-latticed windows, and thick-beamed ceilings. In place of Hampstead's rosewood walls and leather-paneled window treatments came inglenooks. There was a lake, some paddocks, and a walled garden. There were several barns, one of which Peter turned into a gymnasium in one part and a movie theater with a retractable screen in the other. In the yard he kept a donkey. Its name was Fred.