On another program Sellers and Stark were to sit on a park bench and enjoy an absurd conversation, gradually coming to realize that they are caught in a dream. The question was, whose dream was it? Lester planned to reveal the answer by tilting the camera down to a St. Bernard asleep under the bench. Rehearsals went fantastically well; the dog was a pro. But during the live performance it stood up and attempted to leave. It was leashed. With increasing annoyance, the dog began dragging scenery to the floor, including Sellers and Stark. Lester, frantic in the control booth, pleaded to the broadcast technicians to yank the show off the air. "We can't," was their reply. Lester had no choice. "Tell them to keep going! Tell them to ad-lib!" Sellers and Stark, evidently more professional than the dog, did exactly that-not that anyone in the audience could tell the difference.

Apart from his anxiety attack, Sellers's offscreen emotional state was relatively normal, especially in comparison to Milligan, who is said by this point to have been sedated much of the time. The combination of Milligan's tenuous emotional state and the increasingly radical absurdity of his comedy style led ITV to grow more and more nervous during the run of Son of Fred Son of Fred, and at the end of eight weeks the executives pulled the plug. There were no plans to spawn Fred Fred's grandchild. As for Spike, he had to wait eight years before returning to British television with Milligan's Wake Milligan's Wake.

Peter and Spike returned to the movies. Together with their friend Dick Emery, Peter and Spike filmed a half-hour comedy quickie at the Merton Park Studios in deepest southwest London. The Case of the Mukkinese Battle Horn The Case of the Mukkinese Battle Horn, scripted by the film's producers with help from Spike, Peter, and Larry Stephens, was directed by Joseph Sterling, but more important, it was filmed (as the title sequence tells us) "in the wonder of SchizophrenoScope, the new split-screen."

Compared to any of the Fred Freds it's tame stuff, but The Case of the Mukkinese Battle Horn The Case of the Mukkinese Battle Horn does have its moments. Peter plays a trenchcoat and mustacheclad Scotland Yard inspector investigating the theft of the rare eponymous instrument, a twisted contraption said to be the only one in existence except for the identical twin kept in the storage room. Spike is does have its moments. Peter plays a trenchcoat and mustacheclad Scotland Yard inspector investigating the theft of the rare eponymous instrument, a twisted contraption said to be the only one in existence except for the identical twin kept in the storage room. Spike is his assistant, Brown, and the night watchman, White; White is Eccles under another name. Emery is the museum's curator: his assistant, Brown, and the night watchman, White; White is Eccles under another name. Emery is the museum's curator: EMERY: We had a robbery last night. We had a robbery last night.

SELLERS: A robbery? Anything stolen? A robbery? Anything stolen?

Back at Scotland Yard, a rock comes crashing through the window. There's a note attached, etc.

Henry Crun shows up as the doddering owner of a pawn shop; Minnie shrieks offscreen. A much more fetching Peter turns up lounging on a chaise under a heavily pomaded platinum wig and a satin smoking jacket, languidly drawing from a cigarette holder. Sir Jervis Fruit was hardly the first screaming queen in Peter's repertoire; footage of an early cabaret performance shows him mincing hand on hip across the stage. And one historian of gay images in British culture claims that Sellers performed these flaming faggot bits on a routine basis and that at least one gay audience member was so offended by it that he stood up in the middle of the sketch and told Peter to stop it.

What's striking about Sir Jervis Fruit, though, is that while he makes Quentin Crisp look like a rugby player, Peter invests him with the same core dignity he lends all of his most flamboyant creations. He believes believes in Fruit. There's no contempt or derision. Like Crystal Jollibottom, Sir Jervis would be a delightful tablemate at a dinner party. The same can't be said, say, for Spike's moronic Eccles, who, toward the end of in Fruit. There's no contempt or derision. Like Crystal Jollibottom, Sir Jervis would be a delightful tablemate at a dinner party. The same can't be said, say, for Spike's moronic Eccles, who, toward the end of The Case of the Mukkinese Battle Horn The Case of the Mukkinese Battle Horn, gets the chance to perform the Dance of the Seven Veils in drag before a captivated Peter. It is an unnerving spectacle.

Because Peter's star was rising higher and higher, he was booked to appear on any number of television specials: The Billy Cotton Band Show The Billy Cotton Band Show, Six Five Special Six Five Special, Don't Spare the Horses Don't Spare the Horses, the third of three specials called Secombe Here! Secombe Here!, and others. He was supposed to be on Jack Benny in London Jack Benny in London, too. He was great in rehearsals. In fact, he may have been a little too great, for Benny took the show's producer aside and told him that he thought Peter's line deliveries and timing were so similar to his own that Peter's appearance would be detrimental to the show as a whole, and so, perhaps, they should let him go.

As the comedian Steve Allen points out in regard to this incident, Benny and Sellers "were not at all alike in their natural manner of speech." Perhaps Benny felt Sellers was upstaging him. Either that or Peter's routine included a devilish impersonation of Benny, and Benny felt that one of him was enough on his own British television special. In any event, they paid off Peter's contract and sent him home in disappointment.

For Peter, the rejection stung, but it didn't hurt his chances in the industry. Far from it. Peter starred in two of his own own television specials that year, both called television specials that year, both called Eric Sykes Presents Peter Sellers Eric Sykes Presents Peter Sellers.

The Goon Show's seventh series began in October, but even before it finished in March 1957, Peter had done yet another yet another television series, not to mention his first appearance on North American TV. Because his contract with Associated-Rediffusion required four short television series and he'd done only three, he was obliged to star in one more despite Spike's departure after television series, not to mention his first appearance on North American TV. Because his contract with Associated-Rediffusion required four short television series and he'd done only three, he was obliged to star in one more despite Spike's departure after Son of Fred Son of Fred. With Richard Lester having moved on to other work as well, he called on his friend and former Goonmate Michael Bentine. Bentine's quarrels, after all, had been with Spike, not Peter. Bentine, in turn, brought in the Australian writer-performer David Nettheim, whom he'd met in Australia while working on the radio series Three's a Crowd Three's a Crowd. But this time there would be no confusion or dispute as to Bentine's creative role: On this show he was to be billed as "Creator."

The result was Yes, It's the Cathode-Ray Tube Show! Yes, It's the Cathode-Ray Tube Show!, which enjoyed its surreal run on ITV from February 11 through March 18, 1957, six programs in all. It was Fred Fred-like, but in a Bentine way: this time, the surreality was such that the show's very title disintegrated over the course of the series. In a conceit worthy of both Tristan Tzara and Yoko Ono, one word fell off the title each week. By the last program it was a show called Yes Yes.

About this time, Peter took a brief trip to North America, his first. His journey to Toronto owed to his appearance on Canadian Broadcasting Corporation's Chrysler Show Chrysler Show. He was booked to do his Richard III Richard III bit; Graham Stark accompanied him as the Duke of Clarence. For whatever reason, the show itself terrified Peter. bit; Graham Stark accompanied him as the Duke of Clarence. For whatever reason, the show itself terrified Peter.

As Stark describes the scene in his memoirs, "large, well-dressed, cigar-toting Chrysler executives nervously prowled behind the cameras" all day during rehearsals, and Peter became increasingly upset. Moments before filming the scene, he looked at himself, all wigged and behumped, in his dressing room mirror and said in the voice of Laurence Olivier, "Now is the winter of an absolute bleeding disaster." But as usual, when he actually performed the scene before a laughing audience he was fine. cigar-toting Chrysler executives nervously prowled behind the cameras" all day during rehearsals, and Peter became increasingly upset. Moments before filming the scene, he looked at himself, all wigged and behumped, in his dressing room mirror and said in the voice of Laurence Olivier, "Now is the winter of an absolute bleeding disaster." But as usual, when he actually performed the scene before a laughing audience he was fine.

Peter continued to appear in film comedy shorts in the twenty-minute to half-hour range. Even more than Mukkinese Battle Horn Mukkinese Battle Horn, these were steps backward in terms of artistic adventure, but they provided exposure, they occupied his mind, and they paid.

Dearth of a Salesman, from A.B.-Pathe, was released in early summer. Hector Dimwittie (Sellers) attempts to become the best salesman in Britain, tries vainly to sell toilet supplies and moves quickly on to washing machines and tape recorders, suffering all the while the gross indignity of a too-successful brother-in-law. "Peter Sellers works hard," Today's Cinema Today's Cinema opined; "handy footage appeal"-in other words, there was enough celluloid to keep the audience awake before the feature began. opined; "handy footage appeal"-in other words, there was enough celluloid to keep the audience awake before the feature began. Insomnia Is Good for You Insomnia Is Good for You, running roughly the same length, was released shortly thereafter. Typically for the businessman culture of the fifties, it featured salesman Hector again, now unable to sleep. "A normal, lazy, married man," is how the film describes the newly successful Hector. His boss has demanded a meeting on Monday morning for reasons Hector can't fathom. Unable to stop spinning fantasies of his boss's fierce temper, Hector fails to sleep for sixty-two hours. Unlike the avant-garde comedy Peter did with Spike or Michael Bentine, the material practically writes itself, to its detriment. Hector tries to remember cherished verse; he can't. He worries about his job; that he can do. And, in the end, the reason for the meeting? His boss wants him to take a client out for a night on the town. "Falls very flat," Monthly Film Bulletin Monthly Film Bulletin scoffed. scoffed.

And there was Cold Comfort Cold Comfort, from C. M. George Film Productions. Today's Cinema Today's Cinema's review, in toto: "Gentle thumbnail lecture on how to catch a cold and keep it. Radio star Peter Sellars (sic) illustrates it, mainly in pajamas, and the homely domestic touches will strike a responsive chord anywhere."

This was all very well as far as it went, but it hadn't gone nearly far enough for Peter. Nightclubs, cabarets, radio, stage, television, big roles in short films, short roles in big films, and one sizable role in a masterpiece. Peter Sellers saw himself as stuck. enough for Peter. Nightclubs, cabarets, radio, stage, television, big roles in short films, short roles in big films, and one sizable role in a masterpiece. Peter Sellers saw himself as stuck.

He had his toys, his cars, his friends, his wife, his son. He had his mother.

What he felt was lack.

PART TWO.

IN WONDERLAND.

195764

SEVEN.

"'Curiouser and curiouser!' cried Alice," as she finds herself growing to enormous proportions after having simply followed the directions given to her.

She eats the cake, grows larger and larger, and discovers that she is unhappier than ever.

Soon she is swimming in a pool of her own tears.

Peter Sellers's cinematic stock rose again in 1957, paradoxically in a film called The Smallest Show on Earth The Smallest Show on Earth (1957), in which he plays a loyal if drunken film projectionist. The film's director, Basil Dearden, had been one of Ealing's most prolific-twenty-one films in fifteen years, the most commercially successful of which was the 1950 drama (1957), in which he plays a loyal if drunken film projectionist. The film's director, Basil Dearden, had been one of Ealing's most prolific-twenty-one films in fifteen years, the most commercially successful of which was the 1950 drama The Blue Lamp The Blue Lamp, which caused a great stir thanks to its radical portrayal of British law enforcement. (For once the copper wasn't wasn't a bungling boob.) But like Alexander Mackendrick, Dearden had had enough of Michael Balcon's regimentation at Ealing, and by 1957 he'd left the studio. He made a bungling boob.) But like Alexander Mackendrick, Dearden had had enough of Michael Balcon's regimentation at Ealing, and by 1957 he'd left the studio. He made The Smallest Show on Earth The Smallest Show on Earth, a surprisingly bitter comedy, for British Lion.

The story: Matt Spenser and his wife, Jean, inherit a movie theater in the North. They're a cute 1950s English couple-a pretty, sharp-chinned blonde cheerfully married to a beefcake husband. She's good-natured, a great gal; he's a little dim but not without a certain magnetism, a British Tab Hunter with lovehandles and a slightly higher IQ. A screwball couple updated to the 1950s, Matt and Jean are played by Bill Travers and Virginia McKenna, who went on to star in the wildlife movie that inspired the Oscar-winning song "Born Free" (1966).

They're looped when they arrive at their destination, so when they see the town's theater, the Grand-a streamline-Moderne, quasi-fascist affair with a uniformed doorman and a crowd of eager patrons-they naturally assume it's theirs. It's not. Theirs is the decrepit Bijou, a Babylonian-Baroque-Revival heap under the train tracks. assume it's theirs. It's not. Theirs is the decrepit Bijou, a Babylonian-Baroque-Revival heap under the train tracks.

Margaret Rutherford is the ticket seller, Mrs. Fazackalee, except that she sells no tickets.

Peter Sellers, as the weary projectionist, Mr. Quill, drinks: MR. Q QUILL: (all but overcome with emotion) Well, uh, Mr. Spenser, it's like this 'ere. I would like you 'a know that I, well, I appreciate what you said, and what you're tryin' 'a do. And believe me, I don't say this lightly-I am absolutely determined that I won't take another drop! Not another drop I won't touch, I won't! (all but overcome with emotion) Well, uh, Mr. Spenser, it's like this 'ere. I would like you 'a know that I, well, I appreciate what you said, and what you're tryin' 'a do. And believe me, I don't say this lightly-I am absolutely determined that I won't take another drop! Not another drop I won't touch, I won't!

MRS. F FAZACKALEE; I don't think you may realize, Mr. Spenser, what a big sacrifice this may mean for Mr. Quill. I don't think you may realize, Mr. Spenser, what a big sacrifice this may mean for Mr. Quill.

Basil Dearden may enjoy a reputation in Britain for a certain liberalism in his social problem dramas-after this comedy he made Violent Playground Violent Playground (juvenile delinquency, 1958), (juvenile delinquency, 1958), Sapphire Sapphire (racism, 1959), and (racism, 1959), and Victim Victim (homosexuality, 1961)-but (homosexuality, 1961)-but The Smallest Show on Earth The Smallest Show on Earth bears a strikingly antipopulist contempt for movie audiences. Patrons of the Bijou, after the Spensers get it up and running, are comprised of a bunch of cruel rubes, teenage makeout artists, and a whore. At the same time, Dearden isn't above sweetening his nasty streak with easy sentimentality when Sellers's Mr. Quill projects a silent melodrama to an audience of two-Mrs. Fazackalee and Old Tom, the usher (Bernard Miles): bears a strikingly antipopulist contempt for movie audiences. Patrons of the Bijou, after the Spensers get it up and running, are comprised of a bunch of cruel rubes, teenage makeout artists, and a whore. At the same time, Dearden isn't above sweetening his nasty streak with easy sentimentality when Sellers's Mr. Quill projects a silent melodrama to an audience of two-Mrs. Fazackalee and Old Tom, the usher (Bernard Miles): Mr. Quill (describing the movie to the Spensers): "Old film. Classic, you might say. I've saved 'em for years, bits of 'em. We used to run 'em like this in the old days, but, not for years we haven't done it. Now it seems like old times once more."

But the look on Sellers's face saves it, an expression of meditative warmth. To his great credit as a dramatic actor-in-training, Peter learned in The Smallest Show on Earth The Smallest Show on Earth how to subvert maudlin dialogue by photogenically sustaining silence. how to subvert maudlin dialogue by photogenically sustaining silence.

Peter cut and released his third single record, "Any Old Iron," with "Boiled Bananas and Carrots" on the flip side. A banjo-strumming, incomprehensibly fast-talking novelty song, "Any Old Iron," made it onto the British pop charts and stayed there for eleven weeks in the autumn. It even rose briefly into the Top Twenty. pop charts and stayed there for eleven weeks in the autumn. It even rose briefly into the Top Twenty.

His reputation kept growing and, inexorably, he won his first costarring role-as a faux-Scottish extortion victim in the black comedy The Naked Truth The Naked Truth (1957). Written by Michael Pertwee and directed by Mario Zampi for the Rank Organization, (1957). Written by Michael Pertwee and directed by Mario Zampi for the Rank Organization, The Naked Truth The Naked Truth traces several prominent citizens' attempts to avoid, stifle, and finally snuff the unctuous editor of a traces several prominent citizens' attempts to avoid, stifle, and finally snuff the unctuous editor of a Confidential Confidential-like scandal sheet. Terry-Thomas, with whom Peter shared top billing, is a philandering lord, about to be exposed. Peter is a thickly brogued television star, beloved by his elderly audience and a slumlord on the side.

With a studio audience in place and the cameras rolling, an enthusiastic announcer heralds his appearance: "The star of the show, the man who made it all possible! The jack of all faces! The king of kindness! And the ace of good hearts, 'Wee Sonny' MacGregor! 'Wee Sonny' MacGregor!" Enter a dimple-grinning Peter, literally jumping onstage in a roaring plaid kilt, a matching plaid banner on his shoulder held in place by a pin, a pair of equally screaming kneesocks, and an awfully frilly shirt. He's the Liberace of Brigadoon: WEE S SONNY: (Squeak of pleasure, gasp, grin and...) A great big welcome t' all th' old folk an' the bonny young lad's 'n lassi's! I can't tell the difference, you know! (giggle). (Squeak of pleasure, gasp, grin and...) A great big welcome t' all th' old folk an' the bonny young lad's 'n lassi's! I can't tell the difference, you know! (giggle).

Wee Sonny is about as Scottish as Peter himself, a fact Sellers reveals by pushing his brogue just a step too far. The blackmailing editor (Dennis Price) pays him a slimy visit and lets Wee Sonny know that while he doesn't much care about the fake accent, he's fascinated by the chance to reveal to the TV star's aged fans the famous owner of a dismal old people's ghetto in Eastditch. Soon thereafter, a guest on Sonny's show mentions that he hails from Eastditch and begins to describe the wretched place in detail. Wee Sonny loses control. It makes the papers. ("Sonny Faded Out-Shouts at Aged Contestant. Overcome by heat, says producer.") Sonny responds with nominally more control by planning to kill the blackmailer under one of the many identities the "jack of all faces" believes he's able to assume: "I couldn't. But someone else might! Any one of a thousand characters that I can create and then destroy, couldn't. But someone else might! Any one of a thousand characters that I can create and then destroy, just like that! just like that!" Wee Sonny gets carried away: "Murder by a figment of my imagination!"

Sonny's valet (Kenneth Griffith), tethered more tightly to reality, tells him that the scheme is doomed to failure-not because it's immoral, but because Wee Sonny is a dreadful actor. him that the scheme is doomed to failure-not because it's immoral, but because Wee Sonny is a dreadful actor.

Terry-Thomas recalled in his memoirs that Peter, whom he had known since the Grafton Arms days, had run into him one day early in his career and began complaining about a part he'd been asked to play (one Terry-Thomas doesn't identify): "The trouble about my role," Peter told him, "is that they wanted an actor with a Cockney accent. To me this is devastating because I've spent five years trying to lose my Cockney twang." "He had lost it so successfully," Terry-Thomas went on to write, that "by the time we made The Naked Truth The Naked Truth he confided to me one day, 'I've come to the part of the film which is scaring me to death. I'm supposed to use my own accent. he confided to me one day, 'I've come to the part of the film which is scaring me to death. I'm supposed to use my own accent. And I haven't got one And I haven't got one.'"

But Peter never had a Cockney twang to begin with; not everyone in London grows up sounding like Michael Caine in Alfie Alfie (1966). And since adolescence he could imitate any accent at all, practically at will. Although Terry-Thomas had no reason to realize it, what Peter was actually confessing was his sense of self-one that was depleted on the one hand and mutantly reduplicating on the other, a multiple emptiness he was trying to fill by turning it into a point of conversation. (1966). And since adolescence he could imitate any accent at all, practically at will. Although Terry-Thomas had no reason to realize it, what Peter was actually confessing was his sense of self-one that was depleted on the one hand and mutantly reduplicating on the other, a multiple emptiness he was trying to fill by turning it into a point of conversation.

Terry-Thomas did sense another kind of trouble brewing. Peter was no longer the eager-to-please novice granted the chance to appear alongside Alec Guinness and grateful just to be there. Now that he was sharing top billing on The Naked Truth The Naked Truth, Peter Sellers was getting a bit touchy.

He "made one of his 'protests' during shooting," Terry-Thomas writes. "He turned to Mario Zampi and shouted, 'The way you are making this film is ridiculous. You can't direct! I know much more about the camera than you do. I'll give you one more take and then I'm off.' Mario didn't reply. He stood there, shocked."

Characteristically, others had an easier time of it. "I was pleased to meet him," Kenneth Griffith says. "Didn't know much about him, but he was very pleased to meet me. And from that day to this-with one exception-he was an unshiftable friend to me. And as he became very influential, he was a great help to me."

However, even a friend as loyal and loving as Griffith adds, "He was notoriously treacherous. Of course, he was in a powerless mental and emotional state. He was a manic-depressive, and, well, yes-I have sympathy for people. I understood Sellers. Very complicated, you know. He was pretty well inarticulate as himself." for people. I understood Sellers. Very complicated, you know. He was pretty well inarticulate as himself."

The loyalty of Peter Sellers's closest friends remains seemingly boundless. They loved him. And they still do. "Anne was a very nice woman," Griffith reflected recently. "Of course he had lovely women. Anne was a nice woman, and that's what he was like to me." he had lovely women. Anne was a nice woman, and that's what he was like to me."

Peter could be friendly to total strangers. "One day I was at a cinema in Hampstead," the director Joseph McGrath remembers, "and Peter Sellers was standing there as I came out. And I had just seen him in the film, so I went up to him and said, 'You're Peter Sellers, and I claim the reward.' And he said, 'Who are you?' and I told him who I was. He said, 'What do you do?' I said, 'Well, I'm an art student.' He said, 'Let's go and have a cup of tea.'"

A few years went by, and McGrath became a television director. "I got his home phone number, and telephoned him, and he said, 'Who are you?' I said, 'McGrath-Joe McGrath.' He said, 'I remember you. You've made it, and without my help." They remained extremely friendly-again, with one notable exception-for the rest of Peter's life.

"I had had surgery on my leg," Max Geldray reports. (The Goon Show, of course, was still running to national acclaim and amusement.) "Harry Secombe started calling everybody and telling them I was in the hospital. Harry sent me flowers and fruit-typical of him-and I had telegrams from people. When Peter heard about it, he immediately came over and saw all the flowers and said 'My God, I'm so stupid stupid.' He was very angry that he hadn't sent things first.

"I'm sitting there not able to walk. He said, 'What do you want?' I said, 'Peter, I can't go anywhere. I can't walk I can't walk.' He said, 'I have a new car!'

"That meant absolutely nothing to me, since he had a new car once a week. 'It's a new Rover, and you've got to see it! I have to take you for a ride!' So he carried me, physically, bodily, into the car. We drove away. We went for a five-minute drive and stopped. He said, 'Just sit there. I'll be back.'

"After a long long time sitting there, I see him coming down the street with another guy who was carrying a lot of packages. He said, 'That's yours.' What it was I had no idea. We drove back home, he carried me inside, and there was a whole new sound system. time sitting there, I see him coming down the street with another guy who was carrying a lot of packages. He said, 'That's yours.' What it was I had no idea. We drove back home, he carried me inside, and there was a whole new sound system.

"I said, 'Peter, I have have a sound system. I don't a sound system. I don't need need one.' He said, 'Yes, you do. This is a one.' He said, 'Yes, you do. This is a newer newer system.'" system.'"

Things were always important to Peter Sellers. What he missed by lacking a stable or even single self he tried to make up with possessions. Like Charles Foster Kane, he collected himself by collecting buyable objects-cars, cameras, stereo systems, toys, radios, recorders, expensive suits-things that proved to himself something so fleeting that he inevitably had to buy something else as soon as possible. Buying and giving was Peter's way of expressing love. Empty and needy, he bestowed what he wanted-to himself as well as to his friends and family. were always important to Peter Sellers. What he missed by lacking a stable or even single self he tried to make up with possessions. Like Charles Foster Kane, he collected himself by collecting buyable objects-cars, cameras, stereo systems, toys, radios, recorders, expensive suits-things that proved to himself something so fleeting that he inevitably had to buy something else as soon as possible. Buying and giving was Peter's way of expressing love. Empty and needy, he bestowed what he wanted-to himself as well as to his friends and family.

"He was impatient if he wanted something," Geldray says. "He was definitely an 'I want it now now' kind of person. There used to be a saying-we all said it: 'You've got to have it.' The whole cast of The Goon Show The Goon Show said it, but it came from him: ' said it, but it came from him: 'You've got to have it!'

"There was a Ford Zephyr, an English car, that had won the Monte Carlo rally. I got a call from him: 'Did you hear? The Ford Zephyr won the Monte Carlo rally!'" Geldray told Peter that he'd already ordered one from a dealer they both knew. "I had ordered the car, and it was going to take a long time because it was a very popular car. Peter said, 'I've got to have it.' To make a long story short, he had it two or three months before I got mine, because he he went crazy. went crazy. He had to have it! He had to have it!

"He said 'Let's go to the car show.' So he, and Anne, and I went. All of a sudden, Anne and I see him talking to the Bentley people. Anne said, 'Uh-oh.' I saw it from afar, this Bentley, and to me it looked like it sagged in the middle. It obviously didn't, but it appeared to. I said to Anne, 'You know, I don't think I like that car. It looks like it's sagging in the middle.' So she goes over to him and says, 'Peter, Max thinks it sags in the middle.' He said, 'What? Oh. Okay.' He said to the salesman, 'Never mind,' and he walked away. All I had to do was say something negative, and he would immediately act upon it.

"However, several weeks later he had a Rolls-Royce."

But as Wally Stott kindly reflects, "He was was fond of all those things, but there was no harm in that. I hate to believe that there was any harm in Peter. He was a very likeable person." fond of all those things, but there was no harm in that. I hate to believe that there was any harm in Peter. He was a very likeable person."

Anne was always the first to acknowledge her husband's likability, but for her, marriage to Peter Sellers "was like living on the edge of a volcano." On October 16, 1957, she got burned. That was the night she gave birth to their daughter.

Sarah Jane Sellers always had her mother, but beginning in a literal way at the instant of her birth and continuing metaphorically throughout her life, Peter simply wasn't there. On that particular night he simply had had to see Judy Garland open at the Palladium. to see Judy Garland open at the Palladium.

By 1958, Peter, Anne, Michael, Sarah and a horde of stuffed animals from Harrods were living in a large white stucco house on Oakleigh Avenue in the fashionable, even-further-north village of Whetstone. It featured a lovely bay window overlooking a large terraced garden. Peter called it "St. Fred's" and had a sign painted for the front gate to announce it. As he'd explained, "You can ruin anything anything with 'Fred.'" with 'Fred.'"

Michael, on the brink of four, was the titular owner of an electric car set, a pair of walkie-talkies, a number of radios, and a vast army of toy soldiers, but, as Michael later noted of his father's playtime needs, "Only when he grew tired of playing with them himself was I permitted to touch them." One evening, Peter spent several hours setting up opposing toy battalions for combat. Michael made the mistake of staging the engagement the following day when Peter was out of the house. It was a glorious battle with lots of dead bodies, but it paled in comparison to the rather more unequal clash that occurred when Peter returned home. Today we call it child abuse.

The children's first nanny was named Frieda Heinlein. The kids loved her. Peter called her a "German swine" and fired her. Nanny Clarke arrived. Peter became so enraged by something she said that he stormed out of the house, drove to London, checked into a club, called Anne, shouted something about "that bloody nanny," returned home, and picked up the nearest carving knife. Awakening Nanny Clarke with shouts of "I'll kill you, you cow," Peter plunged the knife into her bedroom door, which split. Quick-thinking but not as nimble as she might have been, Nanny Clarke hurled herself out the window, crawled to the house next door, and ended up in the hospital with a sprained ankle. Frieda Heinlein returned.

As abusive a parent as Peter could be at times, he wasn't without affection toward his children. He loved them to the extent that he was capable of love. Blame Peg, of course. She made him what he was. But blame Peter, too. A rotten mother doesn't absolve her son's rotten fathering.

Home movie footage shows Peter playing with a grinning Michael on a swing set in the yard at St. Fred's. Another has him helping toddler Sarah learn to walk. Still another features Michael, resplendent in a plaid playsuit, examining Peter's newest car. This little vignette is clearly staged, although the child star remains quite unaware of the fact. Peter, in voice over, plays the role of a showroom car salesman: "Try the driving position!" he cries as customer Michael climbs in-"I'm sure you'll find it Ab-So-Lute-Ly Ab-So-Lute-Ly First Class!" Then: "I'm going inside now to see to the projector, so I'll see you in just a few moments. Jolly good luck!" First Class!" Then: "I'm going inside now to see to the projector, so I'll see you in just a few moments. Jolly good luck!"

It's cute to outsiders, but Sarah Sellers, in retrospect, finds this sort of thing to be painful to watch. "There's not really very much just 'natural' footage of us playing or anything," she notes. "It's all staged. It's all telling us exactly what to do, and when to laugh, and 'Be happy!' 'Be happy!' and and 'Enjoy yourself ! Have a good time!'" 'Enjoy yourself ! Have a good time!'"

Peter liked to drive Michael and Sarah down to London for a stroll in the zoo on Sunday mornings. Of course, being Peter, he followed up by taking them to lunch at the Ritz or the Savoy. Like everything else, much depended on his mood.

One particular Sunday, Peter was driving his brand-new red Bentley Continental. Michael Sellers claims that Peter's other luxury cars had been previously owned, which helps explain how Peter afforded an unending slew of top-of-the-line luxury automobiles before he was pulling in the extraordinary income necessary to sustain such a habit. The Bentley Continental, however, was unblemished by other hands. It featured handmade fittings, cost 9,000, and was the trophy of trophies. Peter adored it.

A barrage of pebbles hit the car during a family drive. Chips appeared on the bright, shiny surface. Helpfully, Michael took it upon himself to fix them. He found touch-up paint in the garage and, with a child's logic, painted a long stripe down the length of the car to make sure he'd covered every nick.

Peter screamed when he saw his disfigured Bentley Continental. Then he grabbed his son and dragged him upstairs, whipped him with a belt and sent him to bed hungry, took away all of his toys, and didn't give them back for several months. "I thought he was going to kill him," Spike Milligan said.

As totalitarian as Peg could be, hers was a tyranny of baby's-breath-sucking love. She is never said to have hit her son and, given what has has been said, it's impossible to imagine. Rather than striking, she been said, it's impossible to imagine. Rather than striking, she pampered. Peter's rage toward Michael, uncontrollable and bordering on psychosis, was clearly of a different order, in one sense the flip side of Peg's indulgence. Peter had a violent streak even as a child, as the incident involving him shoving his auntie into the roaring fireplace well demonstrates. And because Peg abhorred disciplining him for such outbursts of physical fury, he grew into manhood without several of the key inhibitions that sustain civilization, let alone a healthy family life. He excused himself anything. After all, he was Peter Sellers. pampered. Peter's rage toward Michael, uncontrollable and bordering on psychosis, was clearly of a different order, in one sense the flip side of Peg's indulgence. Peter had a violent streak even as a child, as the incident involving him shoving his auntie into the roaring fireplace well demonstrates. And because Peg abhorred disciplining him for such outbursts of physical fury, he grew into manhood without several of the key inhibitions that sustain civilization, let alone a healthy family life. He excused himself anything. After all, he was Peter Sellers.

The Peter Sellers Show, a comedy special written by Eric Sykes, aired on ITV in early February. The April 8th Show (Seven Days Early) The April 8th Show (Seven Days Early) appeared two months later on the BBC; Peter starred, with support from Graham Stark and David Lodge. There was a record, too-"The Best of Sellers." appeared two months later on the BBC; Peter starred, with support from Graham Stark and David Lodge. There was a record, too-"The Best of Sellers."

The Goon Show's eighth series had been running since September 1957. In March 1958, an episode called "Tiddlywinks" aired. It was based on the real-life match that had occurred on March 2 between the Cambridge University tiddlywinks team on one side and the three Goons and Graham Stark on the other. The college boys had originally thrown their challenge to the Duke of Edinburgh, but the Duke, knowing of his son's admiration for Sellers, Milligan, and Secombe, gallantly nominated them as his stand-ins. Although they did have the last laugh with their broadcast, the Goons lost the match itself by a lopsided score of 120 to 50.

But Peter Sellers had other winks to tiddle. He was making movies, superindustriously-two completed in 1958, another two started in 1958 and finished in 1959, three started and finished in 1959, and two started in 1959 and released in 1960.

He was working steadily (to say the least) and earning good money, and he still believed-with Dennis Selinger assenting-that he needed as much exposure as possible. Does it matter if some of these movies aren't masterpieces?

Returning Peter to the drab territory of Orders Are Orders Orders Are Orders, Up the Creek Up the Creek (1958), directed by Val Guest, is a comedy about the British Navy. It's both rum and bum. Having fired a homemade rocket through the bathroom window of an admiral (Wilfrid Hyde-White)-it homed in on a sudden rush of water-Lt. Fairweather (David Tomlinson) is exiled to a command in "the mothball fleet," specifically H.M.S. (1958), directed by Val Guest, is a comedy about the British Navy. It's both rum and bum. Having fired a homemade rocket through the bathroom window of an admiral (Wilfrid Hyde-White)-it homed in on a sudden rush of water-Lt. Fairweather (David Tomlinson) is exiled to a command in "the mothball fleet," specifically H.M.S. Berkeley Berkeley. The ship is virtually dry-docked in Suffolk, and in the absence of a commanding officer, the Berkeley's shady bo's'n, Chief Petty Officer Doherty (Peter), has turned it into a money-making operation for himself and the ship's skeleton crew. Sellers' bo's'n is an Anglicized Sgt. Bilko from Berkeley's shady bo's'n, Chief Petty Officer Doherty (Peter), has turned it into a money-making operation for himself and the ship's skeleton crew. Sellers' bo's'n is an Anglicized Sgt. Bilko from The Phil Silvers Show The Phil Silvers Show (which was then in its third hit season on American television). With Peter's nasal, fast-talking Doherty keeping the books, the sailors tend chickens on deck, pigs in the cabins; they sell the eggs and bacon to the townspeople. They wash laundry in the boiler and deliver it directly to customers' doors. There's rum-running involved. And pork pies. Doherty has requisitioned paint, presumably for the Berkeley, and none of it remains: (which was then in its third hit season on American television). With Peter's nasal, fast-talking Doherty keeping the books, the sailors tend chickens on deck, pigs in the cabins; they sell the eggs and bacon to the townspeople. They wash laundry in the boiler and deliver it directly to customers' doors. There's rum-running involved. And pork pies. Doherty has requisitioned paint, presumably for the Berkeley, and none of it remains: FAIRWEATHER: Do you mean to tell me that you sold that, too? Do you mean to tell me that you sold that, too?

DOHERTY: Well, we couldn't very well Well, we couldn't very well give give government property away. government property away.

Peter declined to appear in Val Guest's hastily filmed sequel, Further Up the Creek Further Up the Creek (also 1958); they replaced him with Frankie Howerd. But he did show up for (also 1958); they replaced him with Frankie Howerd. But he did show up for tom thumb tom thumb (1958), based on the tale by the Brothers Grimm. A rustic and his wife, granted three wishes by the beautiful Queen of the Forest, waste them on two meaningless requests involving a lengthy sausage that grows on the rustic's nose. After using up the third wish to make the wiener disappear, they're granted one extra: teenage Russ Tamblyn wearing an off-the-shoulder pea leaf. He shall be their son. Only he's two inches long. Tall. Whichever. (1958), based on the tale by the Brothers Grimm. A rustic and his wife, granted three wishes by the beautiful Queen of the Forest, waste them on two meaningless requests involving a lengthy sausage that grows on the rustic's nose. After using up the third wish to make the wiener disappear, they're granted one extra: teenage Russ Tamblyn wearing an off-the-shoulder pea leaf. He shall be their son. Only he's two inches long. Tall. Whichever.

The lithe and virile boy dances with animated cartoons and claymation animals, and all is well in his childhood until his father takes him near the Black Swamp, "an evil place where horrid birds and animals live." That's where Peter and Terry-Thomas come in. Peter's done up in a fat suit and heavy black fur. Terry wears a domed Zeppo Marx hat. "I like you," says Terry to the father. "So do I," says Peter, leaning in close with a vocal insinuation entirely lacking in Terry's previous line delivery. "I don't like the looks of those fellows," says Dad after the villains leave. "I thought they were kind of nice," says Russ.

Peter, affecting a bizarre gypso-Fagin accent, plays a total dolt, Terry as well, though somewhat less so. They decide to bump Tom off by taking him to the edge of the swamp, tossing a coin in, and telling Tom to go chase it. Tom skips happily into the swamp and promptly falls into the muck. Unfortunately, he's saved by the Queen of the Forest and another hour of the film ensues, but it ends happily after a character named Woody teaches Tom how to kiss a girl. It was the 1950s, after all.

Up the Creek was released on November 11, 1958, was released on November 11, 1958, tom thumb tom thumb on December 24. But by then Peter was back on the BBC with on December 24. But by then Peter was back on the BBC with The Goon Show The Goon Show's ninth series, and oh, yes, he had also been starring for four months in a West End play.

A year earlier, the producer Robert L. Joseph had been talking to Alec Guinness about starring as an Arabian sultan in George Tabori's comedy Brouhaha Brouhaha; Peter Brooks was supposed to direct. By July 1957, that plan had fallen apart, but in July 1958, the play opened. Peter Hall directed. Peter Sellers starred.

As Anne Sellers noted, Peter had long been nursing a not-so-secret desire to add theater to radio, television, film, cabaret, and music hall. Tabori's thin farce, entirely dependent on the ridiculous Sultan of Huwaiyat, provided the perfect vehicle: Huwaiyat has fallen on hard times. To extract foreign aid from both the Americans and the Soviets, the Sultan concocts a revolution.

By signing on to Brouhaha Brouhaha, Peter took the risk (to reap the glory) of making his legitimate-theatrical debut in a play in which he'd be onstage almost all the time. There would be touches of slapstick and lots of costume and personality and accent changes, and he'd be given relatively free rein to improvise dialogue and bits of comedy business at will. All of this came with a price, of course. For an actor, any any role onstage, especially on Broadway or the West End, demands an extraordinary commitment of time and energy. Still, Peter took on the challenge and the work, agreeing to appear in role onstage, especially on Broadway or the West End, demands an extraordinary commitment of time and energy. Still, Peter took on the challenge and the work, agreeing to appear in Brouhaha Brouhaha for at least seven months, all the while continuing his radio and film careers. In addition to the regular evening performances of for at least seven months, all the while continuing his radio and film careers. In addition to the regular evening performances of Brouhaha Brouhaha there would be two shows on Saturday night as well as a Thursday matinee. there would be two shows on Saturday night as well as a Thursday matinee.

After previewing in Brighton for three weeks, Brouhaha Brouhaha opened in London. From its printing presses 3,000 miles away, the opened in London. From its printing presses 3,000 miles away, the New York Times New York Times was delighted. Dateline London, August 27: "Gales of laughter greeted George Tabori's new comedy was delighted. Dateline London, August 27: "Gales of laughter greeted George Tabori's new comedy Brouhaha Brouhaha, which opened at the Aldwych Theatre tonight. It left the newspaper reviewers indulgently tickled, too. But the laughter and the warm newspaper notices were more for the players, particularly the star, Peter Sellers, than for the play."

It hadn't been an easy road to opening night. For one thing, Peter decided he didn't like one of the young actors and refused to rehearse with him. Then, at the dress rehearsal, he declined to provide the proper cue lines. "I can't stay," Peter Hall confided to a cast member, "because if I lose my temper with Peter, he'll walk out and close the play." So the director left the theater rather than argue with the star. him. Then, at the dress rehearsal, he declined to provide the proper cue lines. "I can't stay," Peter Hall confided to a cast member, "because if I lose my temper with Peter, he'll walk out and close the play." So the director left the theater rather than argue with the star.

Much, if not all, was forgiven after opening night, when Brouhaha Brouhaha proved to be a hit, though not all the reviews were quite as glowing as the proved to be a hit, though not all the reviews were quite as glowing as the Times Times correspondent led his readers to believe. One English critic snorted that correspondent led his readers to believe. One English critic snorted that Brouhaha Brouhaha "will appeal only to addicts of the type of humor served up by the Marx Bros.," a remark that was apparently meant to be an insult. Another commented that "a mildly absurd initial situation is put through the mill of verbal and situating extravagance: deliberate irrelevance, banality, wild quasi-improvised pantomime twist it and turn it, inflate it only to prick the bubble." As for Peter, the critic wrote, "calculated inconsequence and a kind of dynamic helplessness are mother's milk to him. Tall, plump and dark, he also revealed a personality of enormous kindliness and charm." "will appeal only to addicts of the type of humor served up by the Marx Bros.," a remark that was apparently meant to be an insult. Another commented that "a mildly absurd initial situation is put through the mill of verbal and situating extravagance: deliberate irrelevance, banality, wild quasi-improvised pantomime twist it and turn it, inflate it only to prick the bubble." As for Peter, the critic wrote, "calculated inconsequence and a kind of dynamic helplessness are mother's milk to him. Tall, plump and dark, he also revealed a personality of enormous kindliness and charm."

The Daily Mail was more abrupt: "Brou, but not enough haha." was more abrupt: "Brou, but not enough haha."

Still London scribes did tend to agree that Brouhaha Brouhaha's success depended entirely on Peter, and that he more than carried it off in his appealing, gleeful, manic, multipersonality way. In the trial scene, for instance, Peter played judge, counsel, and prisoner. The judge turned up at one point in a garbage can.

Advance ticket sales were brisk enough that even on opening night British theater wags were already mulling over the most obvious risk of taking the show to New York: "Careful casting would likely be needed for a Broadway presentation, because the comedy has been re-written and tailored to suit the particular requirements of Sellers."

In other words, Sellers's Brouhaha Brouhaha was radically open to improvisation. On the night of October 16, Peter got carried away, waltzed off the stage, and fell into the orchestra pit. He pulled Hermione Harvey (playing Mrs. Alma Exegis Diddle) right along with him. The audience thought it was hilarious, but when they saw Peter's face contorting in agony they fell into silence. Sellers's leg was badly cut. Harvey suffered bruises as well. Peter, still a trouper, made an effort to go on with the show but simply couldn't manage it, and his understudy finished the performance. Anne, who was in the audience that night, thought at first that the whole thing was just a new bit-a little extreme, perhaps, but given Peter's tendency to depart from the script, not entirely without precedent. "But when I went round to the was radically open to improvisation. On the night of October 16, Peter got carried away, waltzed off the stage, and fell into the orchestra pit. He pulled Hermione Harvey (playing Mrs. Alma Exegis Diddle) right along with him. The audience thought it was hilarious, but when they saw Peter's face contorting in agony they fell into silence. Sellers's leg was badly cut. Harvey suffered bruises as well. Peter, still a trouper, made an effort to go on with the show but simply couldn't manage it, and his understudy finished the performance. Anne, who was in the audience that night, thought at first that the whole thing was just a new bit-a little extreme, perhaps, but given Peter's tendency to depart from the script, not entirely without precedent. "But when I went round to the dressing room poor Peter was lying there saying some very unfunny things." She whisked him home in their latest Rolls-Royce. dressing room poor Peter was lying there saying some very unfunny things." She whisked him home in their latest Rolls-Royce.

"I found Peter a great joy to work with, wholly generous and wonderfully inventive," the actor Leo McKern recalled of his experiences with Peter in Brouhaha Brouhaha. (McKern played Tyepkin, the Soviet envoy, but he also appeared with Peter in four films.) "Innovation and continual invention was essential to keep him interested, and the straitjacket of conventional reproduction was not for him." These inventions not only included ad-libs and funny if irrelevant accents. Peter also found it personally amusing to stroll up to the footlights and engage in conversation-albeit one-sided-with the audience. Peter Hall once commented on what it was like to direct him: "It was one of the most amazing and terrible experiences of my life, because one of the things about working in the theater is that you have to repeat what you do.... Peter couldn't bear doing it again and again."