Peter was thirty-eight. He weighed less than ever, smoked three packs of cigarettes a day, and popped a variety of prescription drugs to combat frequent insomnia and depression. "I was getting into the pill area in a big way," he later admitted. At the time, the movie star described his experience of life starkly: "ghostly and unreal" were the words he used.

Peter Sellers was always going to be the star of A Shot in the Dark A Shot in the Dark (1964), but Clouseau, surprisingly, was something of an afterthought. The Mirisch brothers-Harold, Walter, and Marvin-owned the rights to Harry Kurnitz's one-set, dialogue-heavy stage play, which was itself an adaptation of a French play by Marcel Achard. With (1964), but Clouseau, surprisingly, was something of an afterthought. The Mirisch brothers-Harold, Walter, and Marvin-owned the rights to Harry Kurnitz's one-set, dialogue-heavy stage play, which was itself an adaptation of a French play by Marcel Achard. With The Pink Panther The Pink Panther safely in the can after a smooth production, they signed Peter to play the lead-a French magistrate leading a pretrial murder investigation. Anatole Litvak would direct. safely in the can after a smooth production, they signed Peter to play the lead-a French magistrate leading a pretrial murder investigation. Anatole Litvak would direct.

But Peter found Litvak to be uninspiring, as have many film critics over the years, and he threatened to quit. (To be fair to Litvak, he did direct some good pictures in his long and commercially successful career, among them Sorry, Wrong Number Sorry, Wrong Number and and The Snake Pit The Snake Pit, both released in 1948.) So to keep their star happy, the Mirisches fired Litvak and brought in Blake Edwards, who already had a multifilm contract with their company. Edwards then hired a new writer, William Peter Blatty, and together they turned A Shot in the Dark A Shot in the Dark into a Clouseau comedy. In the process, two actors dropped out-Walter Matthau and, of all people, Sophia Loren. into a Clouseau comedy. In the process, two actors dropped out-Walter Matthau and, of all people, Sophia Loren.

And yet, despite all the preproduction commotion, A Shot in the Dark A Shot in the Dark turned out to be a much finer film than turned out to be a much finer film than The Pink Panther The Pink Panther. On the narrative level, the stakes are higher. People die. And they die just as Clouseau's level of competence sinks even lower. From the fluid, carefully orchestrated pre-credits sequence to the equally calibrated interrogation scene at the end, A Shot in the Dark A Shot in the Dark is one of the richest, most fully realized films of Peter's career. is one of the richest, most fully realized films of Peter's career.

Elke Sommer is Maria Gambrelli, the maid accused of shooting the chauffeur. George Sanders is Maria's employer, Benjamin Ballon. For the role of Chief Inspector Dreyfus, whom Clouseau's incompetence drives insane, Edwards chose Herbert Lom. And as was often the case, Peter suggested his best friends for two of the smaller roles: Graham Stark would be Clouseau's laconic assistant, Hercule, and David Lodge would show up briefly as a gardener. Shooting took place between November 1963 and January 1964 at Shepperton, and once again, Peter got the best suite at the Dorchester for the duration of the production as part of his lucrative deal.

A Shot in the Dark presents the first roll-out of Clouseau's many signature disguises, none of which works for the purpose of disguising him; he's the easily identifiable balloon seller standing outside the jail when Maria Gambrelli is released from custody. When she's released a second time, there's Toulouse-Lautrec kneeling on the sidewalk. In similar fashion, presents the first roll-out of Clouseau's many signature disguises, none of which works for the purpose of disguising him; he's the easily identifiable balloon seller standing outside the jail when Maria Gambrelli is released from custody. When she's released a second time, there's Toulouse-Lautrec kneeling on the sidewalk. In similar fashion, A Shot in the Dark A Shot in the Dark's broad physical comedy only barely disguises the fact that, like The Goon Show The Goon Show, the movie is an essentially philosophical enterprise. The film historians Peter Lehman and William Luhr get it right when they point out that "reason is likely to be not a guiding light but a Judas goat" in the Pink Panther Pink Panther films. Clouseau, they write, "exudes logical disconnectedness," a paradox that calls into question the basic assumptions of civilization. For these clever critics, Clouseau is a ceaselessly disintegrating protagonist, a character much more in synch with the absurdity of late films. Clouseau, they write, "exudes logical disconnectedness," a paradox that calls into question the basic assumptions of civilization. For these clever critics, Clouseau is a ceaselessly disintegrating protagonist, a character much more in synch with the absurdity of late twentieth-century life than anyone else. That's how he's able to continue functioning in the face of an unending series of calamities. twentieth-century life than anyone else. That's how he's able to continue functioning in the face of an unending series of calamities.

As an example of what Lehman and Luhr call Clouseau's merely "vestigial" rationality, they cite the sequence from A Shot in the Dark A Shot in the Dark in which "instead of walking through a doorway, he walks behind the door into a wall [and] attempts to regain the dignity he never had by declaring that the architect should be investigated." in which "instead of walking through a doorway, he walks behind the door into a wall [and] attempts to regain the dignity he never had by declaring that the architect should be investigated."

The servant Maurice, responding to Maria Gambrelli's claim of innocence, utters the word "ridiculous." This sets Clouseau off. It is he he who is necessarily the arbiter of postmodern incoherence: who is necessarily the arbiter of postmodern incoherence: "I will decide what is ridiculous! I believe everything. I believe nothing. I suspect everyone, and I suspect no one. I gather the facts"-he is examining a jar of cold cream at close range and places it to his nose-"I examine the clues"-his nose emerges with a white tip, and-"Before you know it, the case is seulved." will decide what is ridiculous! I believe everything. I believe nothing. I suspect everyone, and I suspect no one. I gather the facts"-he is examining a jar of cold cream at close range and places it to his nose-"I examine the clues"-his nose emerges with a white tip, and-"Before you know it, the case is seulved."

Told by Maria Gambrelli that he should get out of his wet clothes because he'll catch his death of pneumonia-he has made his entrance by falling into a fountain-Clouseau responds with resignation: "Yes, I probably will. But it's all part of life's rich pageant, you know." (Many years later, this line inspired the title of an R.E.M. album.) Soon afterward, he sets his trenchcoat on fire. "Your coat!" Maria cries. "Yes," says Clouseau, "it is is my coat." my coat."

He trails her to a rustic summer camp. Despite the fact that everyone he sees is completely undressed, Clouseau cannot comprehend what he sees and must be specifically instructed by a guitar-strumming naked man, "This is a nudist colony!" (The naked man is played by Peter's friend Bryan Forbes, credited pseudonymously as "Turk Thrust.") Clouseau jumps backward in shock and alarm. "A nudist nudist colony?!" he cries, appalled. He emerges a few moments later stark naked, holding the guitar as his fig leaf, and immediately encounters an absurd nudist orchestra absurdly playing "Theme from colony?!" he cries, appalled. He emerges a few moments later stark naked, holding the guitar as his fig leaf, and immediately encounters an absurd nudist orchestra absurdly playing "Theme from A Shot in the Dark A Shot in the Dark" by Henry Mancini.

Moments later, language itself loses its logical foundation and devolves into a series of Goon-like sounds when Clouseau comes upon what he sees as a slumbering nudist. Maria calls to him from the bushes: "That's Dudu!"

"Dudu?"

"She's dead!"

"Dead? Dudu?"

Then he faints.

To say that Clouseau illustrates the modern human condition is also to say that he is a jackass, an imbecile beyond either hope or contempt. Chief Inspector Dreyfus proceeds to lose his mind under the threat to rationality that Clouseau's brainless anarchy represents. Dreyfus is correct in his response: DREYFUS (agitated): Are you saying that this man-the man Maria Gambrelli is protecting, her former lover-killed eight people because he was jealous?! (agitated): Are you saying that this man-the man Maria Gambrelli is protecting, her former lover-killed eight people because he was jealous?!

CLOUSEAU (calm): Insanely jealous. (calm): Insanely jealous.

DREYFUS: So jealous he made it look like Maria Gambrelli was the murderer?! So jealous he made it look like Maria Gambrelli was the murderer?!

CLOUSEAU: He's a madman. A psychotic. He's a madman. A psychotic.

DREYFUS: (increasingly agitated) What about the maid? Was he jealous of her, too? He strangled her! (increasingly agitated) What about the maid? Was he jealous of her, too? He strangled her!

CLOUSEAU: (calm) It's possible that his intended victim was a man and he made a mistake. (calm) It's possible that his intended victim was a man and he made a mistake.

DREYFUS: A mistake?! In a nudist camp?! Idiot! Nincompoop! Lunatic! A mistake?! In a nudist camp?! Idiot! Nincompoop! Lunatic!

By the end of the film Dreyfus is on the ground, dementedly biting Clouseau's ankles. It is the "lunatic" Clouseau who survives unscathed.

Clouseau's improbable durability also reveals itself when, in the dim light of Clouseau's apartment, the door handle turns. An Asian man enters, dressed all in black. He sneaks into Clouseau's bedroom and, with a piercing shriek, leaps upon the supine detective and begins to strangle him. A desperate fight ensues until the phone rings. The intruder answers it: "Inspector Clouseau's residence."

The job of Clouseau's valet, Cato, includes karate attacks sprung on his boss without warning, the nominal goal being to keep Clouseau's barely functioning physical coordination from collapsing entirely. Burt Kwouk was the nimble young actor Edwards cast in the role. "Cato is a physically very agile human being," Kwouk says today. "In those days, so was Burt Kwouk." Asked about the development of what was to become a recurring character, Kwouk cuts right through it: "Cato did what Clouseau told him. And Burt Kwouk did what Blake Edwards told him." Kwouk cuts right through it: "Cato did what Clouseau told him. And Burt Kwouk did what Blake Edwards told him."

Kwouk takes a similarly clear-eyed perspective toward Peter: "Complex people are very difficult to understand. That's about the size of it, really." He continues: "Hardly anybody has the same perception of Peter Sellers; hardly any of us saw every facet of him. Possibly only his mother ever saw that. I mean, there's the view that there was no no Peter Sellers-there was just all those characters-[but] that's just a facile way of putting it." Kwouk is onto something. Some sociologists consider the self to be relatively stable; postmodernists see it not as Peter Sellers-there was just all those characters-[but] that's just a facile way of putting it." Kwouk is onto something. Some sociologists consider the self to be relatively stable; postmodernists see it not as it it at all, but at all, but them them-provisional, relational selves dependent on circumstance and changeable over time. Sellers was ahead of the curve on this; postmodern theory is a late twentieth-century construct. As Kwouk puts it, "Like everybody, we present different faces to different people. People in different areas see different angles, different sides of us, and therefore have different perceptions of us. In Peter's case it was exaggerated.

"He was very complex- more more complex than most people," Kwouk concludes. "This is part of the fascination with the man-twenty years after his death. Very few actors are still interesting twenty years after they die. Most of them aren't interesting while they're alive." complex than most people," Kwouk concludes. "This is part of the fascination with the man-twenty years after his death. Very few actors are still interesting twenty years after they die. Most of them aren't interesting while they're alive."

A Shot in the Dark builds to a crucial interrogation scene in which, in radical violation of detective genre convention, reason loses. Chaos reigns, and language slips away. Clouseau mentions to Ballon the fact that his fingerprints have been found inside a closet: builds to a crucial interrogation scene in which, in radical violation of detective genre convention, reason loses. Chaos reigns, and language slips away. Clouseau mentions to Ballon the fact that his fingerprints have been found inside a closet: BALLON: Why not? It's my house. I've often been in that closet. Why not? It's my house. I've often been in that closet.

CLOUSEAU: For what reason? For what reason?

BALLON: The last time was moths. The last time was moths.

CLOUSEAU: Meuths? Meuths?

BALLON: Moths Moths.

CLOUSEAU: Yes, Yes, meuths meuths.

It's infectious. Ballon can't help but reply: "Maria was complaining of meuths meuths," after which he winces, perplexed.

Blake Edwards later recalled the difficulty of shooting that scene in particular: "One person would start laughing, then someone else. Sellers was the worst. Finally, I put some money in the center of the room and said, 'I don't care who it is that breaks up, they have to match the pot.' I'll always remember this because George Sanders was in the scene, and he's someone who usually just did his role and went to sleep. He didn't get actively involved. But when Sellers started using these words-a 'meuth' in the closet, a 'beump' on the head-Sanders fell down and wept like a cocker spaniel." always remember this because George Sanders was in the scene, and he's someone who usually just did his role and went to sleep. He didn't get actively involved. But when Sellers started using these words-a 'meuth' in the closet, a 'beump' on the head-Sanders fell down and wept like a cocker spaniel."

But all was not mirth. By the end of the shoot, Edwards and Sellers had stopped speaking. Their communication consisted of little notes slipped underneath each other's door. Each man was experienced; each knew comedy; each had precise ideas; each was neurotic and disturbed. After all, Edwards's nickname is "Blackie"-not a diminutive of Blake, but a reference to one of his most frequent moods. In retrospect, it seems inevitable that because Sellers and Edwards shared a kind of communal personality, at a certain point they would necessarily cease to communicate.

Offscreen, Peter Sellers was earnestly repeating himself. "He asked me to marry him, believe it or not," Elke Sommer says, "even though no physicality, nothing nothing had passed between us. had passed between us.

"I think he was just desperate to marry. I said, 'Peter, I like you very much as a person, but I don't love love you.' He said, 'But that'll come.' you.' He said, 'But that'll come.'

"I always got the feeling of a very lonely man who would do practically anything to have somebody who was his."

Moving along to his next target, in early February 1964, Peter, still ensconced in his Dorchester suite, sent Bert around to a young starlet's room to issue a dinner invitation by proxy. Perhaps the girl would consent to having some photographs taken as well, Bert asked. She would. Britt-Marie Eklund, a twenty-one-year-old pouty-lipped blond, had just arrived in London courtesy of Twentieth Century-Fox, which had cast her in a new action-adventure film, Guns at Batasi Guns at Batasi (1964), in the process forcing her to shorten her name to Britt Ekland. Thanks to the studio's publicity machine, London's playboy elite was already in the know about her arrival. Michael Caine had issued an invitation but hadn't called back yet as he'd promised to do, so Britt was free to join Peter, who by that point had started in on the room-service sweet and sour pork. He took some photos of Britt after dinner, after which they drove by limousine to see (1964), in the process forcing her to shorten her name to Britt Ekland. Thanks to the studio's publicity machine, London's playboy elite was already in the know about her arrival. Michael Caine had issued an invitation but hadn't called back yet as he'd promised to do, so Britt was free to join Peter, who by that point had started in on the room-service sweet and sour pork. He took some photos of Britt after dinner, after which they drove by limousine to see The Pink Panther The Pink Panther, returning afterward to the Dorchester, where Peter and Britt capped their night with caviar, champagne, and Peter's new toy, marijuana. Over the next few days he sent flowers, took her to Trader Vic's, where they shared a drink with a floating gardenia; gave her a diamond and gold brooch from Asprey; and bought her a dachshund. Before the week was over, she flew to New York on they shared a drink with a floating gardenia; gave her a diamond and gold brooch from Asprey; and bought her a dachshund. Before the week was over, she flew to New York on Guns at Batasi Guns at Batasi business, but he called her often during her brief stay in America. In one call, he mentioned some news: "I've told everyone in London we're going to marry. Is that all right by you?" Britt flew back to London. After her plane landed at Heathrow at 7:40 business, but he called her often during her brief stay in America. In one call, he mentioned some news: "I've told everyone in London we're going to marry. Is that all right by you?" Britt flew back to London. After her plane landed at Heathrow at 7:40 A A.M., one of the many aggressive journalists who had congregated for the event shouted, "Where's your engagement ring, Britt?" whereupon Peter pulled her into a nearby broom closet and presented her with a triple-banded Victorian ring (emeralds, diamonds, rubies) he'd picked up at Garrards. They emerged from the closet for a photo op and got married the following Wednesday.

The wedding took place in Surrey at the Guildford registry office, which Peter's wedding planner had transfigured into what Britt later called "a chamber of spiritual beauty." There were fifty burning candles and bowls and bowls of lilacs and roses, creamy white and pink. The bride wore a Norman Hartnell gown. Peter had chosen the designer; Hartnell also happened to make dresses for the queen. Draped across Britt's shoulders was a $15,000 black mink coat, her wedding present from the groom. (A red Lotus sports car had served as an engagement gift.) Peter wore a simple blue suit and overcoat.

David Lodge and Graham Stark were Peter's best men for the brief ceremony. There were only a handful of guests, but fifteen hundred fans reportedly cramped themselves around the front of the building as an icy wind blew snow in their faces. The newspapers were ecstatic: "They outdid the Beatles fans in their shrieks.... Babies were abandoned in their prams on the lawns!"

It was an unusual day for Michael and Sarah Sellers. "I was at boarding school," says Michael. "I was told to get my stuff together because I was going out for the day. But nobody told me [for] what. The driver picked me up and said it was because Father was getting married." Sarah adds, "We didn't actually get to go to the wedding ceremony, which I remember I would have liked to have done."

At least they made it to the reception at Brookfield.

Peter insisted that Maurice Woodruff had predicted the whole thing. Someone with the initials B.E. would have a great influence in his life, Peter repeated. He had told Elke Sommer the news during the production of repeated. He had told Elke Sommer the news during the production of A Shot in the Dark A Shot in the Dark. That B.E. also stood for Blake Edwards was of no concern.... Peter had no idea that his psychic was in collusion with his agent.

Peter was smitten as only Peter could be, and Britt gave him very good reason to be so. Charming, young, fresh, and willing, she also happened to be mind-bogglingly beautiful. "Darling," he said to her at one point early on, "you're so unspoiled, so pristine, and so very dishy dishy." Bert Mortimer, who saw Peter in his blackest moments, later said that he "had never seen him so happy.... It made life a lot easier for everybody around him." Peter's mother, on the other hand, wasn't impressed. Peg showed up at her son's wedding this time, but behind Britt's back she tended to call Peter's sweet young bride "the bleeding Nazi."

Four days after the wedding Peter flew to Los Angeles and checked into the Beverly Hills Hotel and Bungalows. He was there to film Kiss Me, Stupid Kiss Me, Stupid, Billy Wilder's feel-bad comedy about a nebbish Nevada husband and the fantastic jealousy he sports over his pretty blond wife. Sinatra was out, Dean Martin was in. Monroe was out, Kim Novak in. Shirley MacLaine was out, Felicia Farr (who was married to Jack Lemmon) was in.

Britt stayed in London to begin filming Guns at Batasi Guns at Batasi with Richard Attenborough and John Leyton. David Lodge and Graham Stark both had roles in the film, so naturally Peter asked them to spy on Britt and report back to him any suspicious behavior. with Richard Attenborough and John Leyton. David Lodge and Graham Stark both had roles in the film, so naturally Peter asked them to spy on Britt and report back to him any suspicious behavior.

Capucine threw a party for him on February 25. Blake Edwards was there; so were Jack Lemmon and Felicia Farr, Billy and Audrey Wilder, the director William Wyler, and Swifty Lazar.

Peter taped The Steve Allen Show The Steve Allen Show on March 20 and brought the house down. "It was a very interesting period in my life," Peter said in response to Allen's question about on March 20 and brought the house down. "It was a very interesting period in my life," Peter said in response to Allen's question about The Goon Show The Goon Show. "I worked with a very brilliant colleague called Spike Milligan, who wrote the show. Who unfortunately is in a mental home at the moment. [Laughter.] No. He gets a bit under the weather. [Laughter.] But anyway...."

Allen asked him what he called his mother-in-law: "Well, I think the English have quite a good way out of it. They just say 'Hallo!' [Laughter.] But Britt's mother is called Mai-Britt, and I call Britt my my Britt, you see, because she belongs to me." Britt, you see, because she belongs to me."

After keeping Allen unusually entertained and playing drums with the band on "Honeysuckle Rose" (complete with a show-stopping solo), Peter finished off his appearance with an extended improvisation in which he placed a prank call to Scotland Yard. (This was not Peter's invention. Random phone calls were a standard routine on placed a prank call to Scotland Yard. (This was not Peter's invention. Random phone calls were a standard routine on The Steve Allen Show The Steve Allen Show; Jerry Lewis, Mel Brooks, Johnny Carson, and Jack Lemmon had each placed one during their guest appearances on the show.) Given the American premiere of The Pink Panther The Pink Panther, the L.A. papers were also full of Peter: "I don't enjoy playing multiple parts at all. I know Alec Guinness doesn't either. But they do have a sort of showcase value."

"I feel I'm the only one who really knows basically that I'm a phony and eventually it will all be found out."

"Only my children have given me any real happiness. What is wrong with me? What am I looking for?"

Meanwhile, Peter's spies not having anything to report, he proceeded to grill Britt over the phone. What scenes did she film that day? Who with? Did she have to kiss him? "Britt, just tell tell me." me."

He sent telegrams. On March 10, he sent five. "Ying," read the first. "Tong," read the second.

"Iddle."

"I."

"Po. Love, Bluebottle."

He also wrote letters. In one, he described having just attended a screening of The Great Escape The Great Escape (1963): "I was getting deeply engrossed when somebody said, 'Who's that fellow?' Someone else said, 'That's John Leyton.' I thought, 'John Leyton? He's in the film that my Britt's doing. She kissed him. Oh, but that's nothing, that's just acting.' Then I thought of something an actor once said to me, that he always had to become involved with the women he worked with, otherwise it didn't look real enough. The thought of this made me break out into a cold sweat and want to be sick. (1963): "I was getting deeply engrossed when somebody said, 'Who's that fellow?' Someone else said, 'That's John Leyton.' I thought, 'John Leyton? He's in the film that my Britt's doing. She kissed him. Oh, but that's nothing, that's just acting.' Then I thought of something an actor once said to me, that he always had to become involved with the women he worked with, otherwise it didn't look real enough. The thought of this made me break out into a cold sweat and want to be sick.

"I've depressed myself getting into a state like this. I really am an idiot. They say all comedians are sad. I wonder if that's true? Still, I'm not really a comedian. I don't know what I am."

Under the barrage of Peter's phone calls, Britt took a break from filming. She left London for Los Angeles on March 24. Peter was overjoyed to see her. They lunched in his dressing room and dined at hotspots like La Scala or the Bistro. She met Peter's friends-Cary Grant, Steve McQueen, Shirley MacLaine, Capucine, "R. J." Wagner, Goldie Hawn.

Peter had rented a marbled mansion in Beverly Hills for the duration of Kiss Me, Stupid Kiss Me, Stupid. Home movie footage of the house, which was located just off Sunset Boulevard in Beverly Hills, reveals, along with the obligatory swimming pool, a monochromatic, showy, haute-L.A. style: white front doors, white marble walls, white marble floors, white dining table, white chairs.... By the time Britt arrived Peter had already outfitted it with a closet's worth of clothes for her. Michael and Sarah appeared soon thereafter for another trip to Disneyland. just off Sunset Boulevard in Beverly Hills, reveals, along with the obligatory swimming pool, a monochromatic, showy, haute-L.A. style: white front doors, white marble walls, white marble floors, white dining table, white chairs.... By the time Britt arrived Peter had already outfitted it with a closet's worth of clothes for her. Michael and Sarah appeared soon thereafter for another trip to Disneyland.

The trouble was, Britt had not even come close to completing her scenes in Guns at Batasi Guns at Batasi, and on March 31, Fox filed a $4.5 million suit against her for breach of contract. The studio named Peter as well. By a strange coincidence, the house he had rented in Beverly Hills was owned by Spyros Skouras, the head of Twentieth Century-Fox, though the landlord decided not to intervene in Peter's domestic life. A little later, Peter Sellers countersued for $4 million, but his case was dismissed, and he ended up paying Fox $60,200 to compensate the studio for the celluloid containing images of Britt.

John Guillermin was Guns at Batasi Guns at Batasi's under-the-gun director. "Peter was desperately unhappy, you know, and was talking to Britt all the time on the phone. She left the picture after two weeks. She was inexperienced. She hadn't done much, and I don't think if she'd had more experience she'd have left. We got Mia Farrow to do the role and had to reshoot a couple of weeks of it. Dickie Attenborough was not pleased. I saw Peter after that-it didn't leave any scars." Britt herself was later embarrassed by the episode: "I knew in my heart I was doing the wrong thing. I just knew it. But I wasn't my own woman in those days. So I went."

She was captivated by him-his magnetism, his fame, and his potent love for her were a dazzling combination. To say that he was controlling is obvious; more to the point is that Britt loved him.

Peter, of course, was resolute that she had every right to leave the picture. "The only thing my wife ever signed was Darryl F. Zanuck's autograph book," he declared.

Kiss Me, Stupid, for which Peter was to be paid $250,000 plus a percentage of the profits, was only the first picture Wilder planned to make with Peter; Sherlock Holmes Sherlock Holmes was the second. Obviously the director had high hopes for him. But the actual, day-to-day experience of shooting a film together revealed that these two brilliant filmmakers had radically different work habits and personal styles. Wilder liked to share meals with his stars; he enjoyed was the second. Obviously the director had high hopes for him. But the actual, day-to-day experience of shooting a film together revealed that these two brilliant filmmakers had radically different work habits and personal styles. Wilder liked to share meals with his stars; he enjoyed the camaraderie of collaborative filmmaking, as long as no actor dared alter a single word of the scripts he so carefully crafted with his writing partner, I. A. L. Diamond. Peter had lunch in his dressing room, and improvisation was his stock in trade. The hyper and gregarious Wilder enjoyed commanding a wildly open set. His friends; his chic wife, Audrey; his chic wife's friends; visitors from out of town.... The doors of the camaraderie of collaborative filmmaking, as long as no actor dared alter a single word of the scripts he so carefully crafted with his writing partner, I. A. L. Diamond. Peter had lunch in his dressing room, and improvisation was his stock in trade. The hyper and gregarious Wilder enjoyed commanding a wildly open set. His friends; his chic wife, Audrey; his chic wife's friends; visitors from out of town.... The doors of Kiss Me, Stupid Kiss Me, Stupid's soundstage at the Goldwyn studio were thrown wide. Peter preferred to film in relative privacy. Audrey Wilder, a quick-witted pistol and former big-band singer who, by this point, had become one of Hollywood's foremost social leaders, characteristically has something to say about Peter, too: "He queered his pitch with me me when he didn't show up for a dinner we were giving for him at the apartment. I was when he didn't show up for a dinner we were giving for him at the apartment. I was real real mad." mad."

Sellers later described the atmosphere of Kiss Me, Stupid Kiss Me, Stupid: "I used to go down to the set with Billy Wilder, and find a Cooks Tour of hangers-on and sightseers standing off the set in my line of vision. Friends and relatives of people in the front office come to kibitz. When I told Billy I couldn't work with that crowd there, he said, 'Be like Jack Lemmon. Whenever he starts a scene he shuts his eyes and says to himself, "It's magic time" and then forgets everything else.'" Peter found it difficult to forget everything else. The idea of completing the picture began to gnaw at him.

Then came the sty.

According to Jack Lemmon, Sellers was plagued that week by "a massive sty" on his right eye. Sheilah Graham reported that he'd missed at least one day of filming because of it. Lemmon also noticed that Peter "looked as if he were approaching nervous exhaustion." He was tired, anxious, irritated. He could do bits of physical business that pleased his writer-director, but he couldn't change a single word of the dialogue. The sty was a clinically hysterical reaction-a bodily manifestation of what Peter felt inside.

On Friday, April 3, Wilder and Sellers filmed the scene in which Orville gives a piano lesson to a child while growing increasingly convinced that his wife, played by Felicia Farr, is (as Wilder put it) "doing it" with the milkman. Standing on the sidelines along with Peter's costars Dean Martin, Kim Novak, Felicia Farr, and Cliff Osmond, Britt watched her husband perform for the first time. She was amazed by his extraordinary talent and spark. So were the others, including Wilder himself, who, despite his experience as a director, couldn't help but break out into unrestrained laughter during Peter's takes.

"And then he did not show up on Monday," Billy Wilder declared from a distance of thirty-five years. "He had borrowed some money from me because he wanted to take his kids to Disneyland. He was at Disneyland! That's the last I saw of him, giving him the money. It was two or three hundred dollars." from a distance of thirty-five years. "He had borrowed some money from me because he wanted to take his kids to Disneyland. He was at Disneyland! That's the last I saw of him, giving him the money. It was two or three hundred dollars."

There is a funny but foreboding exchange in The World of Henry Orient The World of Henry Orient between the difficult Henry and his earnest manager, Sidney (John Fiedler). "Henry!" Sidney pleads. "You've got to remember you're not Van Cliburn! Now if Van Cliburn misses a rehearsal, he's still Van Cliburn, and nobody says, 'Throw the bum out!'" But Henry is having his hair done at the moment and is too busy admiring his own head in a handheld mirror to concern himself with the warning. "I tried 'a phone 'em," he mumbles. between the difficult Henry and his earnest manager, Sidney (John Fiedler). "Henry!" Sidney pleads. "You've got to remember you're not Van Cliburn! Now if Van Cliburn misses a rehearsal, he's still Van Cliburn, and nobody says, 'Throw the bum out!'" But Henry is having his hair done at the moment and is too busy admiring his own head in a handheld mirror to concern himself with the warning. "I tried 'a phone 'em," he mumbles.

In 1964, Peter's profound misfortune was that he was was Van Cliburn. On that incontrovertible basis, he believed he could do as he pleased. In fact, if comparisons are to be drawn, Peter Sellers was better than Van Cliburn. He was more famous. And he made more money. And ironically, despite years of outrageous behavior and eccentricity and periodically debilitating despair, Peter Sellers ended up remaining far longer on the klieg-lit world stage than Van Cliburn. Van Cliburn. On that incontrovertible basis, he believed he could do as he pleased. In fact, if comparisons are to be drawn, Peter Sellers was better than Van Cliburn. He was more famous. And he made more money. And ironically, despite years of outrageous behavior and eccentricity and periodically debilitating despair, Peter Sellers ended up remaining far longer on the klieg-lit world stage than Van Cliburn.

He was worried about his body. As Britt describes it, Peter "believed that the essence of his masculinity relied on his ardor as a lover. He was always searching for what he liked to term as the 'ultimate' orgasm, and when he discovered that amyl nitrate assisted his physical endurance the tiny capsules of chemical became almost a routine component of our nightly love-making pattern." So on Monday, April 6, after forgoing the tension-provoking sound stages of Kiss Me, Stupid Kiss Me, Stupid for VIP treatment at the Magic Kingdom, Peter and Britt put the kids to sleep and went to bed, inhaled some poppers, made love with their hearts racing, and afterward opened a bottle of champagne, which spilled all over the sheets. They were changing them when Peter reached for his chest. "Get me some brandy-quickly," he said. for VIP treatment at the Magic Kingdom, Peter and Britt put the kids to sleep and went to bed, inhaled some poppers, made love with their hearts racing, and afterward opened a bottle of champagne, which spilled all over the sheets. They were changing them when Peter reached for his chest. "Get me some brandy-quickly," he said.

When Britt returned to the bedroom she found Peter lying in the damp bed.

"I know what it is. I've had a heart attack. Phone the doctor."

Dr. Rex Kennamer, physician to the stars, arrived very shortly, gave Peter a sedative, and told Britt to take him to Cedars of Lebanon Hospital in the morning. Kennamer wasn't alarmed enough to call an ambulance on the spot, but he did decide to cancel his trip to New York, where he was to join his other patients Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton for the opening of in the morning. Kennamer wasn't alarmed enough to call an ambulance on the spot, but he did decide to cancel his trip to New York, where he was to join his other patients Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton for the opening of Hamlet Hamlet.

In the morning they did as they were told. Peter checked into Cedars of Lebanon. Britt told the kids he just had "a bit of a cold." A hospital spokesman told the press it was a myocardial infarction. Peter rested comfortably in his private room.

Reporters and entertainment columnists in Hollywood covered the story, of course-it's always exciting when a thirty-eight-year-old international superstar suffers a mild heart attack-but British papers were quite a bit more breathless. The Daily Express Daily Express rushed to report that Peter phoned "director William Wyler" from his hospital bed to say that he was sick. rushed to report that Peter phoned "director William Wyler" from his hospital bed to say that he was sick.

Then, at 4:32 A A.M. on April 8, 1964, Peter Sellers's heart stopped beating and stayed off. It had had enough.

PART THREE

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS

196480

FOURTEEN.

"That was was a narrow escape!" said Alice, a good deal frightened at the sudden change, but very glad to find herself still in existence. a narrow escape!" said Alice, a good deal frightened at the sudden change, but very glad to find herself still in existence.

Think of a whole area of blackness. Then imagine an arm-a bare arm, but a very strong arm, pulling you. And this arm says, in its own way, 'I won't let you go, I won't let you go.' I held on to this arm, and I knew that as long as I had that arm, I wouldn't die."

A doctor pounded on Peter's chest, and the heart began to beat.

Some hours later, a boy recovering from open-heart surgery in the intensive care unit cried for his mother. Peter suggested that the child be wheeled next to him, whereupon he distracted the child with a Cockney song: "I was walking down the Strand with a banana in my hand..." The boy began to laugh, Britt began to cry, and Peter suddenly stopped breathing. In came the doctors, who revived him again.

The heart stopped at least eight times during the next two days, only to be startled back to life each time. Up, down, starting, stopping, all to the tune of jolts from a defibrillator. It was a Goon Show Goon Show routine. "You've deaded him," Bluebottle used to say. routine. "You've deaded him," Bluebottle used to say.

In England, a national icon seemed about to die, and TV tributes were already in production. "It was uncanny," Ian Carmichael reports. "He was on life support in the Cedars of Lebanon Hospital, and a television station called. They were preparing an obituary program for that night. They said, 'We've got Spike Milligan, we've got this, we've got that, we've got the others all standing by to come in if necessary, but we would like you to be link man, and we've got to rehearse you to get the links right, so will you come in this afternoon and run them with us?' I said, 'Yes, okay.' So I went in and was handed this script, and it started off, 'Today the _______' -the date was left blank-'at the Cedars of Lebanon Hospital in California, Peter Sellers died.' It was terrifying to have to do this. I knew the man was still alive. As I left the corridors of power in that television station, I got the feeling that if he didn't die, for the executives it would be the ruination of a bloody good show." -the date was left blank-'at the Cedars of Lebanon Hospital in California, Peter Sellers died.' It was terrifying to have to do this. I knew the man was still alive. As I left the corridors of power in that television station, I got the feeling that if he didn't die, for the executives it would be the ruination of a bloody good show."

The doctors installed a pacemaker. Peter himself described it: "Two electrodes were sewn in the tissue on each side of my sternum. Doctors watching my heart graph on an oscilloscope knew exactly how it was functioning. If my heart stopped, a warning buzzer sounded, an oscilloscope flashed a report, and an electrical stimulus was sent through the wires directly to my heart to start it up again." (This pacemaker was an earlier, rarer, and obviously more cumbersome version of the tiny, fully-implanted device in widespread use today.) By 7 A A.M. on Thursday morning, the crisis was over. Alert, cheerful, and propped relatively upright with pillows, Peter told the hospital staff that he was worried about his appearance, so they gave him a shave and combed his hair. By Friday morning Peter was off the critical list, Rediffusion Television had lost their special, and Billy Wilder had replaced him with Ray Walston in Kiss Me, Stupid Kiss Me, Stupid.

Britt Ekland, who had kept a near-constant vigil at the hospital, found herself the object of morbid curiosity and fashion scrutiny. The press duly reported that Peter's twenty-one-year-old bride of less than two months had arrived at Cedars of Lebanon on Friday morning cutting a "wistful figure" in a tailored blue-green suit. Forced by circumstances into a brief news conference that day, she thanked Dr. Kennamer; the chief of cardiology, Dr. Clarence Agress; and a senior resident physician, Dr. Robert Coblin, for saving her husband's life. What she didn't mention was that Peter, for whom work was life, was already insisting on talking to his agents and managers and accountants and had to be sedated.