The Party

1968's THE PARTY was not what I was expecting.  At least the first two thirds of it.  Director/co-writer Blake Edwards reteamed with Peter Sellers for a film with the tagline "If you've been to a wilder party, you're under arrest!" What would that suggest to you, invisible audience? For most of the running time I wondered if maybe I was seeing some long lost director's cut.  It didn't feel like a Hollywood movie. THE PARTY resembles more an American stab at Jacques Tati.  Slapstick, but very understated.  An unfocused eye, wandering the frame.  Improvisation to the point of film rollout. 

Sellers quite controversially plays an accident prone Indian actor called Hrundi V. Bakshi.  It's another of those "they could never get away with that now" things.  The brownface used by the make-up department sends the "woke" folks into a real tizzy.  I find this silly.  Just as I do when any actor attempts to play someone of a different color, race, religion, what have you.  Granted, a white actor donning blackface would light up the media these days.  I would join the damning chorus if the movie or television program was attempting to be serious or factual.  But for a farce, there should be no such bounds.   As an aside, Sellers had played an Indian twice before and was always convincing.  He certainly has the accent down.

Bakshi gets himself fired from a movie for his carelessness and is recommended for the Hollywood blacklist.  But the studio head accidentally writes his name on the guest list for a soiree at his house.

The remainder of the film follows Bakshi, a likeable bloke, as he awkwardly makes his way around the party.  Politely smiled at by some, ignored by many others.  With each step he manages to cause destruction, which slowly increases in magnitude as the film progresses.  S l o w l y.  For viewers weaned on contemporary comedies, much of THE PARTY will be excruciating.  Edwards barely seems to direct the film, rather letting Sellers and the other actors just move about.  It bugged me while I was watching but upon reflection it all just gets more inventive.  It does often feel like an actor's exercise, where blocking and tone are to be worked out.   

By the final third, Bakshi's clumsiness sets off chain reactions of chaos, abetted by the appearance of an elephant, painted with slogans by a group of hippies who just attended a protest.  I detected some pre-emptive apologia for Sellers' performance as he berates the youngsters for defacing the poor animal, an symbol of his culture.  Intentional?

Viewers may be amused by later TV superstar Gavin Macleod as a douchey producer.  Steve Franken nearly steals the picture as a waiter who likes to sample the vodka and scotch intended for the guests.  His slapstick dance just about matches that of Sellers.