Photoplay got the scoop: "Peter Sellers has his cast, crew, and friends so confused with his demands. Sellers, I'm told, 'is behaving like a brat.' Most popular joke on the Warners lot is when someone asks, 'Was that a sonic boom?' Answer: 'No, that's Sellers blowing his top.'" got the scoop: "Peter Sellers has his cast, crew, and friends so confused with his demands. Sellers, I'm told, 'is behaving like a brat.' Most popular joke on the Warners lot is when someone asks, 'Was that a sonic boom?' Answer: 'No, that's Sellers blowing his top.'"

While Peter was filming I Love You, Alice B. Toklas! I Love You, Alice B. Toklas! in Hollywood, Britt was in New York filming in Hollywood, Britt was in New York filming The Night They Raided Minsky's The Night They Raided Minsky's, which left Peter more than enough room to come on to Leigh Taylor-Young. And yet Peter sent Britt at least twenty benevolent telegrams while they were separated. One was signed "Elizabeth and Philip," another "Margaret and Tony." "Richard and Elizabeth," "John, Paul, George, and Ringo," "Carlo and Sophia," "Alec Guinness and Peter O'Toole," and "Maharishi Yogi" were also among the well-wishers.

Despite the violence and the grilling, Britt was still making an effort, however doomed, to be the wife Peter wanted, or claimed to want, so she shuttled back and forth between the Minsky's Minsky's shoot in New York and Peter in Los Angeles. Some weekends, one of her costars, Elliot Gould, would fly with her to Hollywood to spend two days with his wife, Barbra Streisand, who was filming shoot in New York and Peter in Los Angeles. Some weekends, one of her costars, Elliot Gould, would fly with her to Hollywood to spend two days with his wife, Barbra Streisand, who was filming Funny Girl Funny Girl (1968). The two couples sometimes had dinner together at Barbra's beach house in Malibu. (1968). The two couples sometimes had dinner together at Barbra's beach house in Malibu.

On the set, Peter Sellers continued to live up to the gossip, but his brilliance when the camera was running kept striking his colleagues as well. He was "a magnificent artist," declares the actor Salem Ludwig. "It was a pleasure to be on the set with him. Once the camera was on, you wouldn't want more from an actor. He was really with with you. He was so supportive on camera-he did everything to make you comfortable." you. He was so supportive on camera-he did everything to make you comfortable."

Then comes the inevitable caveat. Ludwig also had the opportunity to view Peter at his temperamental worst when he caused an incident with Jo Van Fleet on the day the pot brownies scene was scheduled to be shot. Though no one realized it at the time, the contretemps had actually begun brewing the day before. Knowing that one of the film's key scenes would occupy them the following morning and afternoon, the actors, director, and crew wrapped up quickly, and everybody left the set except for the four brownie principals (Peter, Van Patten, Van Fleet, and Ludwig), the director Averback, and the two writers, Mazursky and Tucker. Ludwig recalls that a vague conversation began to arise-few words but lots of implications-but nobody said anything explicit until finally it had to be spelled out for Ludwig and Van Fleet: Everybody was supposed to head over to Peter's place and get stoned. The plan was to use their experiences when the cameras rolled in the morning. Van Fleet on the day the pot brownies scene was scheduled to be shot. Though no one realized it at the time, the contretemps had actually begun brewing the day before. Knowing that one of the film's key scenes would occupy them the following morning and afternoon, the actors, director, and crew wrapped up quickly, and everybody left the set except for the four brownie principals (Peter, Van Patten, Van Fleet, and Ludwig), the director Averback, and the two writers, Mazursky and Tucker. Ludwig recalls that a vague conversation began to arise-few words but lots of implications-but nobody said anything explicit until finally it had to be spelled out for Ludwig and Van Fleet: Everybody was supposed to head over to Peter's place and get stoned. The plan was to use their experiences when the cameras rolled in the morning.

Van Fleet and Ludwig each expressed concern about the illegality of smoking marijuana. Van Fleet was especially nervous about it and begged off, claiming to be allergic to the stuff. Besides, the two older actors said, they were actors actors. They could pretend pretend. As Ludwig made a point of observing at the time, "You don't have to actually explode an atomic bomb to get the effect of a mushroom cloud." And so neither Ludwig nor Van Fleet went to Peter's house to get high.

There was a 7:30 A A.M. call the next morning, but Peter didn't show up. Everybody sat around waiting until finally, at about 11:30, Peter surfaced, smiling very broadly and greeting almost everyone with unusual effusion. (Ludwig figures the delay cost at least $40,000, but Sellers was characteristically unperturbed by that kind of expense.) The crew then launched into what Ludwig describes as the standard routine of filming with Peter, which is to say that Peter disappeared, the crew arranged everything precisely for him, and only then did they call him onto the set. Jo Van Fleet was sitting on the couch when he arrived. Sellers appeared and realized that she was the only person he hadn't greeted yet.

What he didn't understand was that she was in character already. And unfortunately for Peter, her character was that of his mother. Clearly, she had her own idiosyncracies.

In the manner of a six-year-old, Peter tiptoed up to the side of the couch and whispered, in a little-boyish way, "Jo." She didn't respond. He repeated it: "Jo." And again she didn't respond. He tiptoed around to the other side of the couch and tried again. "Jo." Then he blew up. "I hope you're feeling better this morning!" he shouted.

"Oh, good morning, Peter," Van Fleet said matter-of-factly.

As Ludwig puts it, "Peter vituperated." It was all directed at an astonished Jo. She was awful in the picture, Peter declared to the room, over and over, and with increasing amplitude. She was ruining the whole film, he roared. And by the way, she was ruining everyone else's morale, too.

"I realized he was talking about himself," Ludwig observes.

Joyce Van Patten slipped quickly away in a successful effort to distance herself from the acrimony. But Hy Averback simply froze in place, as did Mazursky and everyone else. Peter kept on yelling for a full twenty minutes. No one made any attempt to calm Peter down, nor did anyone come to Jo Van Fleet's defense.

"Peter?" Ludwig finally broke in. "Is there some grievance? Let's go into your dressing room and talk about it." "Yes," Peter snapped. "It's something very specific. It's her general attitude!" And with that he marched off the set.

Ludwig began to follow him but was restrained from doing so on the grounds that Peter needed no further encouragement. "If you do this," someone said, "he'll get on his yacht and we'll never see him again."

Jo Van Fleet "went to pieces." Distraught, she called her psychoanalyst and discussed it with him over the phone, after which she invited Ludwig to dinner that night and talked it through with him as well, at which point Mazursky telephoned and invited himself over for more conversation about Peter and his perceptions and what it all meant and what they were going to do about it. Mazursky expressed regret. "You did something I should have done," he told Ludwig.

The problem was easily but awkwardly solved the following day. The scene was shot in two parts. Peter and Joyce Van Patten performed on one side of the soundstage, while Jo Van Fleet and Salem Ludwig performed on the other. The editor Robert C. Jones pieced it all together later. (In fact, there is a single shot of the four characters all in the same space; the rest is done in close-ups and two-shots.) Sad to say, grudges were held. When I Love You, Alice B. Toklas! I Love You, Alice B. Toklas! was about to open, Salem Ludwig was left conspicuously uninvited to the cast and crew screening. He called the production office and was told just to show up. He did so-and was promptly snubbed by Paul Mazursky. was about to open, Salem Ludwig was left conspicuously uninvited to the cast and crew screening. He called the production office and was told just to show up. He did so-and was promptly snubbed by Paul Mazursky.

Sellers went on to bad-mouth the film in the press. "You should have seen it before they got at it.... They set up this marvelous Jewish wedding ceremony and at the last moment they lost their nerve and dubbed the rabbi into English! Now if the audience hadn't gathered by then that he was a rabbi speaking Hebrew, I don't see that there's much hope for the human race." (In fact, the brief shot of the rabbi's lips moving proves that indeed Warner Bros. did embrace the lowest common denominator by overdubbing Hebrew into English.) was a rabbi speaking Hebrew, I don't see that there's much hope for the human race." (In fact, the brief shot of the rabbi's lips moving proves that indeed Warner Bros. did embrace the lowest common denominator by overdubbing Hebrew into English.) A more outlandish complaint came much later, in 1980, when Peter expressed what appeared to be his long-standing outrage in a Rolling Stone Rolling Stone profile: profile: "I wish you'd seen the original one with the interviews with Allen Ginsberg and Tim Leary. Paul Mazursky and Larry Tucker and myself, we got into the lab at night and we we cut the film. Can you believe it? We bribed the guard, we spent all night with an editor, and when the schmucks came in the following day, we were there bright and early as though we'd just arrived, and we said, 'Listen-we don't like the finished film. We think you should see our attempts.' So they see it and they say [impersonating a crass Hollywood executive] 'Too weird. Who the cut the film. Can you believe it? We bribed the guard, we spent all night with an editor, and when the schmucks came in the following day, we were there bright and early as though we'd just arrived, and we said, 'Listen-we don't like the finished film. We think you should see our attempts.' So they see it and they say [impersonating a crass Hollywood executive] 'Too weird. Who the fuck fuck is Ginsberg? Who the is Ginsberg? Who the fuck fuck is Leary? People are going to know about Ginsberg and Leary in Orange County? I mean, dat's ridiculous!' I said, 'They're not for Orange County! They're for the world!'" is Leary? People are going to know about Ginsberg and Leary in Orange County? I mean, dat's ridiculous!' I said, 'They're not for Orange County! They're for the world!'"

One must wonder one of two things: At what points were the narrative of I Love You, Alice B. Toklas! I Love You, Alice B. Toklas! disrupted by interviews with two reigning gurus of the counterculture, or at what point did Peter fabricate the tale? disrupted by interviews with two reigning gurus of the counterculture, or at what point did Peter fabricate the tale?

With Britt in New York, London, or Sweden, and with Peter never being one for monogamy and Roman having introduced Peter to Mia Farrow, the two couples-Peter and Mia, Roman and Sharon-went into the desert.

Their destination: Joshua Tree, California, a lunar terrain with parched, desolate earth punctuated by bizarre cacti, all conveniently located within a few minutes' drive of Palm Springs. "Because of its reputation for UFO sightings," Polanski recounts, "it was very much in vogue." Necessarily, they all smoked some pot, after which Peter and Mia wandered into the dry wasteland holding hands. Unknown to them, Roman followed. He eavesdropped as they engaged in a deeply spiritual, mystical, ludicrous, and entirely appropriate dialogue about eternity, stars, and alien life forms. The puckish Polanski then tossed a stick at them from the darkness. "Did you hear that?!" Peter whispered. "What was was it?" Mia asked. it?" Mia asked.

"I don't know," Peter replied, "but it was fantastic. Fantastic! Fantastic!"

Peter and Mia were of their time and place, and it is only because their extraordinary talent and celebrated friends enabled them to remain famous for the next thirty or thirty-five years that their behavior during the sixties remains mock-worthy while the rest of us maintain our comfortable anonymity as though we never did anything similar at the time.

Like anyone who could afford it, Peter and Mia enjoyed, as Polanski describes it, "dressing up as rich hippies, complete with beads, chunky costume jewelry, and Indian cotton caftans." The Mamas and the Papas' John Phillips recalls that Peter once walked in on a very stoned Mia and John and declared, colorfully, that he would get Mia "down from that drug if I have to pull you down by the pubic hairs."

At Christmastime 1967, Roman and Sharon invited Peter for a skiing holiday in Cortina. On Christmas Day, Sellers insisted on dressing as Santa Claus and handing out the gifts. Sharon helped him fashion the outfit-her fox fur coat, a red ski cap as a hat, and a white ski cap as a beard. But by the next day he had become so depressed and miserable that he left.

On January 20, 1968, Peter was one of Roman and Sharon's wedding guests at London's Playboy Club; the club was run by Victor Loundes, who, as Gene Gutowski describes him, "had a very open house." Naturally Warren Beatty, Rudolf Nureyev, Keith Richards, Brian Jones, Sean Connery, Vidal Sassoon, Kenneth Tynan, and Laurence Harvey came to the party, too.

Also that year Sonny and Cher hosted a party for Twiggy in their house in the Hollywood Hills; among the guests were Peter, Steve McQueen, Marlon Brando, Robert Mitchum, Tony Curtis, and Kirk Douglas.

In 1968, Peter Sellers was surveying the world from a very lofty perch. The air at the top may have been growing thinner by the month, but it was still exceedingly fresh-if you didn't notice the smoke.

The Mirisch brothers put another Pink Panther Pink Panther film on the drawing boards. But Blake Edwards wasn't directing; the job went to Bud Yorkin. film on the drawing boards. But Blake Edwards wasn't directing; the job went to Bud Yorkin.

Inspector Clouseau (1968) "was first offered to Peter, and he refused it," Edwards later said. Instead, the role went to Alan Arkin. "In all the years I knew Peter, in spite of all the times when he swore he was never going to do another (1968) "was first offered to Peter, and he refused it," Edwards later said. Instead, the role went to Alan Arkin. "In all the years I knew Peter, in spite of all the times when he swore he was never going to do another Panther Panther, he never stopped complaining about the fact that the Mirisch Company had chosen Arkin. Peter was a collector of grievances, but he seemed to bear more of a grudge concerning the Arkin thing than just about anything else. For the sake of my own sanity, I have long since stopped trying to figure it out." Edwards goes on to say that just about anything else. For the sake of my own sanity, I have long since stopped trying to figure it out." Edwards goes on to say that Inspector Clouseau Inspector Clouseau was the only unsuccessful was the only unsuccessful Panther Panther, but Peter took no consolation in its failure.

Still, Peter did return, however briefly, to the familiar in the summer of 1968 when a televised Goon Show Goon Show aired in Britain in early August. Written by Spike, directed by Joe McGrath, and produced by Peter Eton, the program was not an attempt to present Crun, Bluebottle, Minnie, Eccles, and Seagoon in action, as one might expect from a visual medium, but rather simply to film the three veteran Goons standing at microphones doing their voices, just as they had done on BBC radio. (Strangely, this TV aired in Britain in early August. Written by Spike, directed by Joe McGrath, and produced by Peter Eton, the program was not an attempt to present Crun, Bluebottle, Minnie, Eccles, and Seagoon in action, as one might expect from a visual medium, but rather simply to film the three veteran Goons standing at microphones doing their voices, just as they had done on BBC radio. (Strangely, this TV Goon Show Goon Show was not produced by the BBC but by Thames for ITV.) was not produced by the BBC but by Thames for ITV.) The show was not terribly successful. Milligan, who had originally been hired to write a new script, failed to be inspired to do so, and the Goons were forced to revert to the already late in the game "Tale of Men's Shirts" from 1959. As a result, what might have been a promising television series was cut short by a weak pilot.

Richard Lester once observed that the trouble with Peter Sellers having reached and sustained international superstardom was that he stopped coming into contact with ordinary people. Lester's point is not simply that he was emotionally isolated. More at issue for his work was that Peter's luxurious detachment, punctuated by parties with the glitter bunch, left him without everyday models on whom to draw for character development. "If you're in limousines all the time you don't meet many people," Lester said.

According to Sian Phillips, Kenneth Griffith "used to try and get him to travel on the underground. He used to say to Sellers, 'I honestly think it would give you a lot of interest in life-and peace of mind-if you mingled more and went on the subway with people.' But you know how Sellers was. He was completely insane and had absolutely no intention."

At the same time, the benefits of interactions with the ordinary are thoroughly overrated as far as celebrities themselves are concerned. Movie stars' lives can quickly turn grotesque whenever fans barge in. Peter told of his experience on a plane from Barcelona to Rome during the production of The Bobo The Bobo. He was in first class when a group of tourists, in coach, learned there was a star on board: "For an hour they came in shifts of three to look at me. One man told me his brother-in-law had done the titles on one of my films and seemed offended when I didn't know him. He asked me to write a note to his brother-in-law on a menu card saying I bumped into Ethel and George on the plane. Then Ethel and George argued about what I should say." And at a Hollywood get-together, Peter once told, "a long, thin thing glided up to me at a party and said, 'I do find all of your films terrifyingly boring.'" my films and seemed offended when I didn't know him. He asked me to write a note to his brother-in-law on a menu card saying I bumped into Ethel and George on the plane. Then Ethel and George argued about what I should say." And at a Hollywood get-together, Peter once told, "a long, thin thing glided up to me at a party and said, 'I do find all of your films terrifyingly boring.'"

Robert Parrish was an independent witness to another such deformed encounter between Peter and his so-called fans. The two men were on a plane together-heading to Barcelona this time-when a group of Americans got on. They were each wearing a lapel button that read, "We smile more!" One of the smilers marched right up to Peter and said, "Mr. Sellers! I just saw one of your pictures recently, and it wasn't very good, and I didn't think your performance was very good either."

Sellers froze. "Thank you for pointing that out to me," he muttered.

As Spike Milligan once put it, "He sees himself as a clean person in a colony of lepers-can't afford to mix with them too much if he's to come out alive."

For reasons with which only bitterly divorced people can perhaps fully sympathize, Peter and Britt flew to Venice for another reconciliation. Accompanied by Britt's three terriers-Scruff, Pucci, and Fred-they sailed The Bobo The Bobo through the Gulf of Trieste and down the Adriatic, ending the cruise at Brindisi. They flew over to Rome, checked into the Excelsior, and proceeded to have such a vicious fight that the night porter showed up and humbly made known to them their neighbors' complaints. Britt took a few Valium and went to bed. She was awakened by Peter placing a telephone call to his Italian agent. "Franco," Peter announced, "I want you to come to the hotel immediately and collect my wife. She is leaving Rome this instant. Our marriage is finished." To his groggy wife he said, "Just get out of here and don't ever come back. I never want to see you again, you bitch." So she left. through the Gulf of Trieste and down the Adriatic, ending the cruise at Brindisi. They flew over to Rome, checked into the Excelsior, and proceeded to have such a vicious fight that the night porter showed up and humbly made known to them their neighbors' complaints. Britt took a few Valium and went to bed. She was awakened by Peter placing a telephone call to his Italian agent. "Franco," Peter announced, "I want you to come to the hotel immediately and collect my wife. She is leaving Rome this instant. Our marriage is finished." To his groggy wife he said, "Just get out of here and don't ever come back. I never want to see you again, you bitch." So she left.

By midmorning of the following day, Peter had ordered the crew of The Bobo The Bobo to throw all of Britt's belongings onto the dock. Among the detritus were Scuff, Pucci, and Fred. to throw all of Britt's belongings onto the dock. Among the detritus were Scuff, Pucci, and Fred.

Britt served Peter with divorce papers. Peter convinced Britt to have lunch with him. "I know I can't live without you," he told her, but she pursued the divorce anyway. "For the first time in my life I was alone," Britt writes, though her solitude didn't last very long, for she soon took up with Count Ascanio "Bino" Cicogna, an Italian playboy who went out and bought a bigger yacht than Britt writes, though her solitude didn't last very long, for she soon took up with Count Ascanio "Bino" Cicogna, an Italian playboy who went out and bought a bigger yacht than The Bobo The Bobo.

The divorce was finalized on December 18, 1968. Spike sent Britt a congratulatory telegram.

Two days later, Peter arrived at London's fashionable Mirabelle restaurant for a dinner party with Roman, Sharon, Warren, Julie, and the producer Sam Spiegel. Not surprisingly, Peter's date was a beautiful and fashionable blond film star. Oddly, she was Britt Ekland. The date ended at Peter's place when Peter pulled down his 1,200 shotgun and threatened to shoot his ex-wife to death. "Don't be silly, Peter," was Britt's adept reply. Knowing who she was dealing with, she kept talking to him in a soothing voice until she could slip the gun out of his hands. Then he burst into tears.

EIGHTEEN.

On his own-at least away from Britt-Peter kept running with the fast-living Polanski crowd, which, in addition to Roman and Sharon and Warren and Julie, included Yul Brynner, Peter Lawford, Gene Gutowski, the playboy Jay Sebring, and the screenwriter James Poe.

As Polanski himself describes it, "There was quite a bunch of friends during this period; we were all usually in a very happy mood. Having had a few drinks or having just smoked a joint, we would start joking and kidding around, and it would develop into a kind of routine. We would start playing Italians, you know-just pretending we spoke Italian. There were always two arguing, and one other would sort of stand and observe, and then he would get involved in the argument of the other two. One of the two would start arguing with him him, leaving the other one out. And it would go around like this-we could do it for hours. Sometimes we would do operas, make up singing. Often we would do Spaniards-whatever came to our minds. It was dependent on the kind of drink we had had and the extent of our drunkenness. It was really great fun."

"There was a fabulous happening," Gene Gutowski fondly recalls, "the premiere of Rosemary's Baby Rosemary's Baby in Paris. Peter was very much in attendance. We took over a whole hotel-the little place where Oscar Wilde had lived and died. It had become a showpiece, boutique-type hotel. We had a magnificent three-day party, the whole place reeking of, uh, substances, controlled or uncontrolled, mostly un-. Peter liked to indulge." in Paris. Peter was very much in attendance. We took over a whole hotel-the little place where Oscar Wilde had lived and died. It had become a showpiece, boutique-type hotel. We had a magnificent three-day party, the whole place reeking of, uh, substances, controlled or uncontrolled, mostly un-. Peter liked to indulge."

Asked whether Peter's drug use made his mood swings more drastic, Gutowski answers, "It's difficult for me to judge. He definitely had mood changes, but I couldn't tell you if it was under the influence of whatever he was taking or smoking or was just simply his nature. He would be quite happy and suddenly become very depressed and dark. That was typical of him."

Peter took a casual attitude toward carrying drugs across international borders. "He was very friendly with a great friend of Roman's," Gutowski explains, "a Moroccan Jewish film director by the name of Simon Hessera. Simon was forever trying to make a picture, and he became very friendly with Peter. Peter spent some time in Rome, and before he left, he left me a note: Would I please collect a jar of honey from an English lady at an address in Rome and have Simon bring it to him in London? It was as simple as that.

"When I sent Simon to pick up the honey, it was an extraordinary amount of money-something like $200. Simon was quite amazed and upset about it: 'What is this stupid thing? What kind of honey is he eating?' I said, 'Simon, I really don't know. He's a health freak. Maybe it's royal jelly. Just shut up and take it to London.'

"Poor Simon, shaking his head, carried it to London. Soon after, he realized that this honey was heavily laced with hashish. Peter was giving it out in tiny spoonfuls to his friends. When Simon found out what he'd carried past customs he was very upset."

Michael Sellers started smoking marijuana at age thirteen. Peter didn't realize it at the time, but he was his own son's drug connection, for the boy simply snitched it from his father's stash, which Peter kept stored in empty film canisters around the house. "There was so much of the stuff that I knew he wouldn't miss a little.... It was like his pills. He had thousands of them, and I would help myself to amphetamines or Mandrax sleeping pills."

Sarah kept a defensive low profile. A cute, quiet child, she let her mother raise her. When Peter demanded her presence, she went along.

Victoria Sellers's first memories are of Brookfield, its ducks and geese, the chicken coop, the trampoline Peter put up in the yard, and the pastel-pink bedroom in which she slept, always with the lights on, for she knew the house was haunted.

Peter sold Brookfield to Ringo Starr in 1969 for 60,000.

His offscreen concerns seem mostly to have been money and women. Peter could be as cheap as he was extravagant. It depended on his mood. He'd treat his friends to dinners, trips on his yacht, baubles; then, without warning, he'd make them foot the bills. A friend of his, the skiing instructor Hans Moellinger, got a taste of this after a trip with Peter to Vienna. "He was always telling me about buying property in the Seychelles, and this and that-he was obviously very rich-but in a way he was very stingy. Once we were staying at the Hotel Sacher with two beautiful girls, and...." Asked who Peter's companion was, Moellinger is vague. "I was with Miss Sweden at the time, and she always had five or six friends around.... And we went to the opera and did the usual sightseeing, and finally we left. The bill was the equivalent of about two or three thousand dollars nowadays. I thought he paid it. One or two weeks later I got an invoice. It said, 'Mr. Sellers thought you should pay the bill.' Can you imagine? At that time my monetary situation was not so good," the ski coach notes. warning, he'd make them foot the bills. A friend of his, the skiing instructor Hans Moellinger, got a taste of this after a trip with Peter to Vienna. "He was always telling me about buying property in the Seychelles, and this and that-he was obviously very rich-but in a way he was very stingy. Once we were staying at the Hotel Sacher with two beautiful girls, and...." Asked who Peter's companion was, Moellinger is vague. "I was with Miss Sweden at the time, and she always had five or six friends around.... And we went to the opera and did the usual sightseeing, and finally we left. The bill was the equivalent of about two or three thousand dollars nowadays. I thought he paid it. One or two weeks later I got an invoice. It said, 'Mr. Sellers thought you should pay the bill.' Can you imagine? At that time my monetary situation was not so good," the ski coach notes.

As for the ideal woman, Peter had a dream-one of many. "These photographs you see of Gorky or Goethe," Peter remarked to Joe McGrath one day.

"What are you talking about?" the confused McGrath replied. "He said, 'Well, I don't have any photographs of Goethe. But those Russian writers, and those early American writers-they're all sitting there, and there's a cottage in the background, and there's always a woman, slightly out of focus, drying her hands on a towel. That's what I want-that sort of woman. I really want somebody that's going to be a cushion for me.'"

Peter did not go wanting for women after his second marriage ended, but most appear to have been cushions of a very different sort. He revealed to one girlfriend the secret of his success: as a pickup line he'd tell them he was descended from Lord Nelson, a throwback to his chubby childhood. But faking lineage can't have been his only skill. Peter Sellers was a desirable man: funny, glamorous, rich, handsome (yes, he was handsome), and world-famous. His good looks were precise and curious, distinctly unconventional. He radiated on a physical level-the flashing smile, the slim frame he worked daily to carve from a naturally larger mass, sad eyes that pierced nonetheless. And he was sexy; and women knew it. Britt Ekland once revealed that Peter displayed what she called "extraordinary talents as a lover." She knew his flaws better than almost anyone, but, as she acknowledged, "If some things disappointed me in our marriage, that was never one of them." Among the beautiful women he dated around this time were Zsa Zsa Gabor's daughter Francesca Hilton and Alice Joyce, a Pan American Airlines flight attendant, to whom Peter actually proposed.

Emotionally, he was perpetually disappointed; sexually, he got what he wanted. The paradox tore at him. "His intimate life, with the women...," Polanski says, trailing off and beginning again. "It was not always what you would call the happiest relationships." wanted. The paradox tore at him. "His intimate life, with the women...," Polanski says, trailing off and beginning again. "It was not always what you would call the happiest relationships."

In the drawing rooms of London, Peter's skills at seduction led to increasing speculation about the precise nature of his friendship with Princess Margaret, particularly when her own marriage to Lord Snowdon became more publicly rocky. With Tony causing talk about his relationship with Lady Jacqueline Rufus Isaacs, Margaret was rumored to be spending time alone with Peter at his Mayfair apartment. According to Margaret's biographers, the source of the rumor was-guess-Peter himself.

Sian Phillips saw him in action one evening "at dinner when I was in a show in the West End. I got there after my performance, and I thought, well, I know everybody-except for one little woman I didn't know at all. 'She's obviously not in the business, I'll catch up with her later.'" And so Sian Phillips sat down. "O'Toole was laughing, of course, because he didn't give a damn, but Sellers was looking absolutely ashen because I reserved her for later. Of course, it was Princess Margaret. She was the only one I hadn't recognized. Sellers really wanted to impress her. He wanted everything to go really well; he didn't want any hiccups." Phillips notes, "You had to be careful around her. I don't know if those stories about him and her are true or not, but certainly she was terrifying to be out with. She'd be a nice little person singing songs and playing the piano, and then suddenly she was HRH and you had to grovel. You couldn't overstep the mark."

"Well, I obviously don't know how intimate they were," Joe McGrath states. "But they were very, very close. Oh yeah, very. They were all all close. I mean, so was Tony." close. I mean, so was Tony."

As for Margaret's feelings about Peter, she once remarked that he was "the most difficult man I know." He proved the point when he called her on the telephone one day and did an excruciating imitation of her husband describing in obscene detail one of his dates with Jackie Rufus Isaacs.

One day about twenty years earlier-he and Anne were still married-Peter Sellers looked across a London park and spied a pretty little three-year-old girl. He began dating her in 1968, when she was twenty-one.

Miranda Quarry was delicate but curvy, with long, straight hair and an aristocratic bearing. Her stepfather was noble in the technical sense of the word; he was Lord Mancroft, a former junior minister in Parliament. Miranda was a patrician hippie without any of the distracting dirt or politics. She moved in the circles expected of her; her peers were literally so. word; he was Lord Mancroft, a former junior minister in Parliament. Miranda was a patrician hippie without any of the distracting dirt or politics. She moved in the circles expected of her; her peers were literally so.

She and Peter crossed paths since their earliest encounter in the park. A modern debutante, Miranda had once taken a come-and-go job creating floral arrangements in the Dorchester's flower shop, where Peter used to buy bouquets for Britt. They met again on the set of his new picture, The Magic Christian The Magic Christian-she was a publicity assistant at that point-and soon began dating. It was an affair of convenience. She liked to hang around with Peter and his movie people, Peter enjoyed romancing a delicious aristocrat, and they got together when it was convenient.

Peter's first wife and two daughters comment on his relationships with women during this period: Victoria: "As any man would be who is no longer married, he went out with a lot of different women, and traveled here and there, and decided to rent a house in this country for a few months, and then, no, no, we're going to rent a house here here, and then we're going to stay in that that hotel.... It was all mixed up and jumbled but, I would say, interesting." hotel.... It was all mixed up and jumbled but, I would say, interesting."

Sarah: "That's how he operated. Once he got bored with one toy, he wanted the next. It was a constant quest, really, and I think the women were just a part of that.... I think he found it very difficult to have a decent relationship. It probably boils down to his mother."

Anne: "He used to bring me all his new acquisitions in the way of girlfriends, so that 'Mum' could see them and tell him what I thought of them."

If some men seem unable to deal with women apart from the categories of the virgin and the whore, Peter Sellers, as usual, provided a novel twist. His His classifications were the virginal sexpot and his own mother. Anne, never either, now found herself hideously transformed into a woman she despised and thus had no desire to emulate for her ex-husband. Peter wasn't able to help himself, and she was unable to stop him. classifications were the virginal sexpot and his own mother. Anne, never either, now found herself hideously transformed into a woman she despised and thus had no desire to emulate for her ex-husband. Peter wasn't able to help himself, and she was unable to stop him.

"It started off with Terry Southern," says Joe McGrath. "We were going to do Flash and Filigree Flash and Filigree, his other novel, but Peter said, 'No, let's do The Magic Christian The Magic Christian [1969]'." [1969]'."

Given Peter's recent history with directors, McGrath found himself the object of warnings from friends and associates. "Some people said, 'You accepted the poison chalice.' I said, 'I don't really see it like that, you know.' accepted the poison chalice.' I said, 'I don't really see it like that, you know.'

"He could be very depressive. If you got him on a bad day he could fuck up the day's filming for you. But I got to know him well enough that I could say to him, 'You're obviously exhausted' and just send him home. He had this great thing that comedy is is-energy. And if you are not feeling fit or good, you can't be funny.

"He always avoided confrontations, so I think an awful lot of people thought him devious. He would never face up to confrontation. He would say, 'Excuse me' or something and go somewhere else, then have a minion tell the person, 'This is what we're doing.' I got past that with him. He would have have a confrontation with me. Not on the floor. He would say, 'Can we go to the dressing room?' or something, and then we would figure it out and argue it and discuss it and then he would come back and do it. By that time I knew Peter well; I could tell him what I thought. As Spike Milligan always said, 'Once you go past that barrier with Peter, you're a friend. But if you don't, he'll always look on you as some servant he's telling what to do.'" a confrontation with me. Not on the floor. He would say, 'Can we go to the dressing room?' or something, and then we would figure it out and argue it and discuss it and then he would come back and do it. By that time I knew Peter well; I could tell him what I thought. As Spike Milligan always said, 'Once you go past that barrier with Peter, you're a friend. But if you don't, he'll always look on you as some servant he's telling what to do.'"

Peter was in Hollywood on January, 22, 1969, when he held a combination cocktail party and press conference for The Magic Christian The Magic Christian at the Beverly Hills Hotel. But it was his costar who fielded many of the questions, and they mostly didn't have to do with at the Beverly Hills Hotel. But it was his costar who fielded many of the questions, and they mostly didn't have to do with The Magic Christian The Magic Christian. Ringo Starr was about to join the other Beatles for their final public performance on the roof of the Apple building in London the following week.

John Lennon had been the first choice for the role, but Lennon wasn't able to do it. Hence Ringo. The good-natured drummer's last picture, Candy Candy (1968), called on him to play a Latino gardener in hot pursuit of the title character, a nubile female Candide. ( (1968), called on him to play a Latino gardener in hot pursuit of the title character, a nubile female Candide. (Candy, scripted by Buck Henry, is based on Terry Southern's novel of the same name.) In The Magic Christian The Magic Christian, he plays Peter's character's adopted son. It was less of a stretch.

Ringo found the experience of acting with Sellers to be particularly strange, owing to the two men having known each other for years without cameras rolling in the background. "I knew [him] quite well, but suddenly there he was going into character, and I got confused," said Ringo.

"The amazing thing with Peter was that, though we would work all day and go out and have dinner that night-and we would usually leave him laughing hysterically, because he was hilarious-the next morning we'd say, 'Hi, Pete!,' and we'd have to start again. There was no continuation. You had to make the friendship start again from 9 o'clock every morning. We'd all be laughing at 6 o'clock at night, but the next morning it would be, 'Hi, Pete!,' then 'Oh, God!' We'd have to knock the wall down again to say 'hello.' Sometimes we'd be asked to leave the set, because Peter Sellers was being Peter Sellers." You had to make the friendship start again from 9 o'clock every morning. We'd all be laughing at 6 o'clock at night, but the next morning it would be, 'Hi, Pete!,' then 'Oh, God!' We'd have to knock the wall down again to say 'hello.' Sometimes we'd be asked to leave the set, because Peter Sellers was being Peter Sellers."

For his part, Sellers had only positive comments about Starr's performance. "Ringo is a natural mime," said Peter. "He can speak with his eyes." Ringo said of Peter, "He would always say, 'It's your eyes, Ring. It's your eyes. They'll be two hundred feet big up there, you know.'"

The story goes: Sir Guy Grand, KG, KC, CBE (Peter), a lonely but immensely wealthy aristocrat, meets a homeless youth (Ringo) and immediately adopts him. (KG stands for Knight, Most Noble Order of the Garter, and CBE for Commander, the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire. There is no KC in the British system of honors, so let's call it an informal abbreviation of KCB, which stands for Knight Commander, the Most Honourable Order of the Bath.) "Well, then, Youngman Grand," Guy states after the brief ceremony. "Father!" Youngman cries. Together they spend a lot of money in a series of colorful, seemingly pharmaceutically oriented, more or less disconnected adventures.

Guy and Youngman attend a performance of Hamlet Hamlet; the lead, Laurence Harvey, performs the soliloquy as a strip show routine, getting down to-and past-the Danish prince's bodkin, in this case a black leather jockstrap. ("You've got to hand it to that Laurence Harvey," Youngman Grand remarks to Guy. "He really knows his job.") A train trip turns into a psychedelic burlesque show with a strobe light sequence. A shooting expedition becomes a World War II battlefield complete with machine guns, artillery, and tanks. (They barbecue a bird with a flame-thrower.) At a fine art auction, Guy notices a dark portrait and engages a Sotheby's representative (John Cleese) in conversation. The rep tells him that while the painting has not been specifically attributed to the master himself, it is decidedly of the school of Rembrandt: GUY: (in Peter's parody-Eton-ish lockjaw voice) I like "School of Rembrandt." Yes, I enjoy all the French painters. (in Peter's parody-Eton-ish lockjaw voice) I like "School of Rembrandt." Yes, I enjoy all the French painters.

SOTHERBY'S REPRESENTATIVE: (without the parody) Uh, well, Rembrandt was, in a sense, Dutch. (without the parody) Uh, well, Rembrandt was, in a sense, Dutch.

Guy purchases the painting out of auction for 30,000, cuts out the nose, which he keeps, and orders Sotheby's to burn the useless rest. With its purposeful incoherence and stabs at druggy social satire, The Magic Christian The Magic Christian is, like Peter and Mia's cosmic walk in the desert, distinctly of its time and place. is, like Peter and Mia's cosmic walk in the desert, distinctly of its time and place.

According to Terry Southern's son, Nile, "Peter would get agitated when he wasn't working. He would just get really eager and impatient and just start working on the material, and he'd bring in his other friends to start working on it, and it ended up that, like, nine people ended up working on that script." Terry used to joke that Peter would just run into someone at a cocktail party and the next thing anyone knew, that person was rewriting the script of The Magic Christian The Magic Christian.

Graham Chapman and John Cleese were among them. Chapman once declared that the future Monty Python Monty Python stars- stars-Monty Python's Flying Circus premiered on the BBC a few months later in October 1969-had originally been hired "to write in a part for Ringo Starr. The reason given was so that the financiers could find the money to make the movie." Joe McGrath remembers the situation rather differently: "Cleese and Chapman were pretty unknown at the time, but Peter wanted them. Terry resented them quite a lot, [but] Peter insisted on bringing them in because he was going to play Guy Grand as an Englishman. We got the money in this country, so it was set in England." McGrath adds, "At one point, before he could find his voice, he was actually playing it like Groucho Marx." premiered on the BBC a few months later in October 1969-had originally been hired "to write in a part for Ringo Starr. The reason given was so that the financiers could find the money to make the movie." Joe McGrath remembers the situation rather differently: "Cleese and Chapman were pretty unknown at the time, but Peter wanted them. Terry resented them quite a lot, [but] Peter insisted on bringing them in because he was going to play Guy Grand as an Englishman. We got the money in this country, so it was set in England." McGrath adds, "At one point, before he could find his voice, he was actually playing it like Groucho Marx."

In any case, Chapman described his experience on The Magic Christian The Magic Christian as "an ordeal-by-fire." According to him, he and Cleese wrote a scene in which a very nervous man was to sit on a hostess's Pekinese and kill it. Sellers "laughed hysterically at it, but the next day when we came back to see Peter, he'd gone off it totally. He'd actually read this piece of script to the man who delivered his milk, and he hadn't laughed. So it was out." as "an ordeal-by-fire." According to him, he and Cleese wrote a scene in which a very nervous man was to sit on a hostess's Pekinese and kill it. Sellers "laughed hysterically at it, but the next day when we came back to see Peter, he'd gone off it totally. He'd actually read this piece of script to the man who delivered his milk, and he hadn't laughed. So it was out."

Cleese, says McGrath, is "very funny in the Sotheby's scene, but I had to bring him back. The first day he was a nervous wreck. He couldn't play opposite Peter. He said, 'My God, I never realized the heat that comes off him.'

"At the end of the first day [of shooting Cleese's sequence], Peter said to me, 'We've really got to get rid of him and cast somebody else. Surely we can cast somebody else and bring him in tomorrow.' He'd just blown the first day, [so] I said, 'Let me talk to him.' Sellers said, 'I'm going home-you obviously want to see yesterday's dailies-so give me a call later.' the first day, [so] I said, 'Let me talk to him.' Sellers said, 'I'm going home-you obviously want to see yesterday's dailies-so give me a call later.'

"I went up to see John in the dressing room. He was really in tears. He said, 'I know I have blown this, I understand if you don't want me back tomorrow, I understand what's going on....' I said, 'Now look. Peter has gone home, so what we'll do is we'll have an early call tomorrow, and we'll shoot some reverses on the scene we did today.' We got him in early, and we shot the reverses, and I sent that reel off immediately to be developed. Peter came in about 10:00 A A.M. and I showed it to Peter, who looked at it and said, 'Oh, yeah, we can use it. I think he's just very nervous.' Peter and I went up to John's dressing room, and everything was okay."

Gail Gerber, Southern's companion, recalls chaos of a more literary nature: "Terry became nonplussed the first first time when he realized that the producers had decided it was 'episodic' and needed something to tie it together. They thought, or maybe Terry thought, that Guy Grand could adopt a son or something. Terry always took suggestions in good faith. time when he realized that the producers had decided it was 'episodic' and needed something to tie it together. They thought, or maybe Terry thought, that Guy Grand could adopt a son or something. Terry always took suggestions in good faith.

"He was prepared to write in the son, which he did, and fortunately Ringo got to do the part. He was great in it-weird and great. Of course the book had nothing to do with any of that, but this was a pretty off-the-wall production anyhow.

"There were lots of phone calls. 'You've got to get to London! You've got to get to London!' We were going to leave Burroughs in our apartment on 36th Street [the poet William S. Burroughs, the author of Naked Lunch Naked Lunch and and Junkie: Confessions of an Unredeemed Drug Addict Junkie: Confessions of an Unredeemed Drug Addict] and go to London, but Terry kept dragging his feet for some reason until finally we got on a plane and went. Meanwhile they'd already started shooting.

"Because Terry wasn't there, Peter got all these other writers. They went for a whole different sort of slapstick thing. By the time we got there, several scenes were, in Terry's estimation, ruined. There was the hunting scene, where they were blowing away birds until they were charcoal, and what mostly offended Terry was the scene at the auction house. Guy Grand was a very kind person and a great connoisseur of art, and he would never, ever ever plunge a knife into a fine painting. But they got carried away in their own funny way." plunge a knife into a fine painting. But they got carried away in their own funny way."

One day, says Gerber, "Terry came back from the set and said, 'You'll never believe what they said today. "We've got Raquel Welch!"'

"Terry said, 'I don't have a part part for Raquel Welch.' "They said, 'Well, write one.'" for Raquel Welch.' "They said, 'Well, write one.'"

Cameos abound in The Magic Christian The Magic Christian.

Spike Milligan turns up as a traffic warden. He gives Guy Grand's black Mercedes limousine a parking ticket, only to be told by Grand that if he eats the ticket he'll get 500. So he eats it.