When I was a kid, I thought Peter Sellers’ films with Inspector Jacques Clouseau were hilarious. By the time Steve Martin’s reboot of “The Pink Panther” came around in 2006, I was grown and physical comedy was – groan. I can’t say I loved all Martin’s slapstick mishaps and flaming mojitos. It’s just too much of a mediocre thing. The basic premise – Clouseau is a good cop despite his clumsiness and has a way of stumbling into success – actually gets treated well by Martin and fellow detective Jean Reno. There were probably more comedically clever ways to make that point, however.
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At the end of “Ronin” (1998), spy/hitman/something-or-other Jean Reno becomes narrator and utters, “no questions and no answers.” Well, I have questions and would like some answers. If anyone other than John Frankenheimer had directed, could a post-Cold War espionage flick starring Robert De Niro have possibly been as pointless and opaque? And what is Frankenheimer’s obsession with assassination attempts at big events? And how do you have a seemingly endless car chase through Paris and encounter only one cop? There’s willing suspension of disbelief and then there’s willful ignorance of reality. Is that what was in the secret case?
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