The Unknown Peter Sellers (2000) - full transcript

Hello.

Peter Sellers was an explosive mixture
of talent, ambition and contradiction.

Do you have a reum?

- A reum?
- What?

This comic genius spent the majority
of his time on screen making us laugh.

Oh.

Really?

Ha!

(laughs)

In a career spanning five decades, he was
many different people, but never himself.

God knows who that is.



His meteoric rise from relative obscurity
to film superstardom was phenomenal.

This story is no idle fiction.

That is just how it was.

His most inspired and beloved creation,
Inspector Clouseau,

sent the world into hysterics.

But there's a lot more to his story.
Much more.

Tell me about myself.

He left behind a large body of work,

lost and forgotten pieces of film
that have rarely been seen,

or have never been seen,
even by his most devoted fans.

This then is "The Unknown Peter Sellers".

I've seen him on the telly. How do you do?

People who say that Sellers' comic flair
amounted to genius are probably right.

He was so brilliant.
He could do anything.



I said to him once "You could do
a murder and get away with it."

He was a true emotional artist.

He could paint strokes
that just dazzled you.

Sellers could play almost any character
he wanted. He could just slip into a role.

He was a star, and he will be a star

when the so-called stars of today who
are lauded as greats will be forgotten.

There are other geniuses,
but there's really only one Peter Sellers.

(narrator) His creative journey
took him from young, chubby performer

to comic genius.

For nearly a decade, he was one of
the biggest movie stars in the world.

But by the early 1970s
his career was virtually over.

His films had made hundreds of millions,
but he was almost broke.

Once the most in-demand actor in films,

now he didn't know where
his next job was coming from.

By 1973, he was reduced to making
television commercials to earn a living.

How had it come to this? How had one
of the funniest men alive sunk so low?

Peter Sellers began his
show-business career unexpectedly,

at the ripe old age of two weeks.

His parents were stage performers,
and one night, in September 1925,

the star of their show brought the baby on
stage and said "Let's all wish him well."

Baby Peter burst into tears
and the audience roared.

It would not be the last time
he'd make people laugh.

Peter was raised in a world of adults
with few friends his own age.

He began observing the show people
and mimicking their voices and dialects.

With his unmatched ability
to reproduce what he heard,

this lonely boy was able to
turn the spotlight back on himself.

When Peter was aged about 14,

he was as tall as a boy of 16 or 17,
so he stuck out like a sore thumb.

Whenever you are prominent in that
unacceptable kind of way in class,

you do all kinds of things to make sure
the rest of the class likes you.

One way that Peter got the attention
of the class and got them laughing

was to imitate people
that he heard around him.

(narrator) The discovery that he could
do this made a profound impact on Peter,

one that would ultimately bring him more
attention than he ever dreamed possible.

In 1943, when he turned 18,
Peter joined the Royal Air Force.

Although unable to fly
due to poor eyesight,

the RAF found a better way
to exploit his talents.

The first time I met Peter, I was
transferred from the real Royal Air Force

into what was called the Gang Show,
the entertainments unit.

There was a rather fat-faced boy
with a lot of curly hair.

He was a fine drummer. He played
with big bands as an 18-year-old.

He was the star of the show.

He was still doing impressions off,

but wasn't doing them on
because we had an impressionist.

He used to put on the uniforms that they
travelled with and impersonate officers.

Peter would go to the sergeants' mess and
visit the men, pretending to be an officer,

for which he could have got
a dishonourable discharge

and probably a prison sentence.

That kind of impersonation
was irresistible to him.

(narrator) After the war, believing
his voice would be his fortune,

Peter worked small theatres
playing the drums and doing impressions.

All too often, he was booed off the stage.

Desperately wanting to break into radio,
Peter went to London,

but his only work was doing impressions

at the Windmill Theatre,
a glorified strip club.

One night, a BBC talent scout
was in the audience

and booked Peter on New to You,
a TV show featuring amateur talent.

Video tape had not been invented,
so Peter bought a disc-cutting machine

to make a sound recording of
what would be an historic moment:

the birth of his broadcasting career.

I'm glad you've heard my name,
it's Peter Sellers.

Peter Sellers can be gay
as well as zealous.

And now it's my view,
from the programme "New to You",

as one of Britain's
up-and-coming fellas, perhaps.

At this point there was nothing special
about Peter's act, and no one took notice.

Still unable to get work in radio,
in a moment born of desperation,

Sellers took fate into his own hands.

He got his first job in radio

through telephoning and
pretending to be a BBC producer.

He said "I've just seen
this young man Peter Sellers."

"He does fantastic impersonations.
You must book him for one of our shows."

"We must have this young man
before somebody snaps him up."

(narrator) The producer was totally fooled

until Peter's nerve gave out
and he revealed the truth.

Impressed by Sellers' courage and talent,

the producer booked him on Showtime,
a top radio variety show.

Show business forecasts
a big future for him,

so let's have an extra special
welcome for Peter Sellers.

After just this one appearance, 22-year-old
Peter Sellers was suddenly in demand.

During the next two years, he was heard
on more than 250 radio broadcasts,

displaying a formidable repertoire
of funny voices.

Sellers was still getting ahead
by not being himself.

But his ambitions extended
far beyond radio.

- He's got the spondulix.
- Spondulix?

- A dreadful disease.
- No, Major. The spondulix.

In the fingers?
Oh, the worst place you can have it.

It travels straight up the brain
and crumbles the arm.

No, no. It travels up the arm
and crumbles the brain.

You're looking at Peter Sellers'
very first appearance on film.

Penny Points to Paradise
was a low-budget comedy,

produced quickly,
and even more quickly forgotten.

It hasn't been seen
since its original release.

Madam, this is a bathroom
and not a confounded beehive.

Oh!

(laughs) It was an awful film.

Madam, this is a bathroom
and not a nursery.

Sellers would keep trying
to make it in the movies,

but real stardom came on the radio

when he teamed up with Spike Milligan
and Harry Secombe.

Established comedy was
getting frayed at the edges.

During the war, everybody was doing
the same thing, the same catch phrases.

They told stories "I say, I say, a funny
thing happened on the way to the theatre."

We wanted to change that,
because we were anarchists.

We wanted to break the mould
and start again.

On March 28th 1951,

listeners to BBC Radio were
subjected to a harrowing experience

that would change
the face of comedy for ever.

Stop those carefully rehearsed ad libs

and proceed with announcing
radio's answer to TV.

Namely, the original lantern-slide type
wireless "Goon Show".

You might not realise it, but they were
skating pretty near the edge of humour.

- Here. Take that.
- (string of sound effects)

Hip, hip! (blows raspberry)

There had never been that form
of anarchic humour before.

(Secombe) I'm terribly sorry
to knock you up so late.

(effeminate voice) They all say that.

The Goon Show wasn't jokes that you
told. It was just magical little moments.

- May I take a gander round the shop?
- As long as it's house-trained.

It's carrying a gag
to its illogical conclusion.

That's what The Goon Show was.
It was essentially an oral cartoon.

Moriarty, how many times have I told you
not to drive that leather omnibus

round the bedroom in broad daylight?

You know these blinds are drawn,
they're not real.

Spike Milligan wrote most of them,
but of course Peter was a central force

in terms of the performance
and the voices.

Sellers played many characters
on the show,

making each one instantly recognisable.

Major Dennis Bloodnok, a devout coward
prone to severe gastric imbalance.

(explosion)

Oh! No more curried egg for me.

Hercules Grytpype-Thynne,
the ultimate con man.

Allow us to introduce ourselves. My card.

- But it's blank.
- Business is bad.

But perhaps his most popular
character was Bluebottle,

a self-styled juvenile hero
with a strange high-pitched voice.

Nyaihh!

I heard you call me, my captain.
I heard my captain call me.

(laughter)

Great Scott.
Audience applause - not a sausage.

He'd physically change
as he did the voice.

He'd blow himself out for Major Bloodnok.

He'd shrink for Crun,

and then get very small for
"Hello, my good man", for Bluebottle.

(clucking)

It's the front door.

The Goon Shows didn't
attempt to make sense.

- I'm waiting for a medical inspection.
- (string of sound effects)

I reckon you need one, mate.

The Goon Show's influence on me
was that when it came to Python,

when we could write whatever we wanted,

the material and the characters
I was thinking about

were very much influenced
by Milligan and Sellers.

The Goons became part of
the British national consciousness,

beloved by commoners and royalty alike.

After a nine-year run as the most
popular radio comedy show in England,

while still on top,
they decided to call it quits.

The Goon Show
made Peter Sellers famous,

and until the day he died he would always
call those days the happiest of his life.

Yes, that was it, the last of them.
So, bye now.

In the 1950s, he was
a major success on the air,

but Sellers still struggled to make it
on the big screen.

The only work he got was in films which
capitalised on his Goon Show success.

His talent for portraying
multiple characters

was on display in Let's Go Crazy,

a short film that has not been seen
since its release in 1951.

- Do you serve crabs?
- Yes, sir.

Serve my friend.
He hasn't eaten for weeks.

- I'll give him to you.
- I'll take him home for supper.

- No, take him to a show.
- Just a minute, sir.

Don't talk to me like that, son.

- How old are you, sir?
- 68.

- How old?
- 69.

- You said 68.
- It took me a long time to get round.

But his characterisations were
still based on funny voices.

He had not yet learned
to play a whole character,

how to invest it with a rich inner life.

British moviemakers considered
Sellers to be only a vocal talent,

so to advance his film career
Peter made another bold move.

In this film you are about to see,

we bring you the true story behind
Britain's super-secret service.

Sellers produced and starred in
a short film spoofing British spies.

This print from his private collection
is the only one left in the world.

- You there, have you got anything to say?
- Yes.

- Anything else?
- No!

- Any evidence?
- Yes, sir.

This is the gun that killed Legs Monaghan.

Arrest it at once. No... One moment.

- This is a water pistol.
- I know, sir. He was drowned.

Sellers' craft as a film actor
was improving,

and Britain's most legendary studio
took notice.

In 1955, Sellers was cast in a small role
in his first major motion picture

opposite his idol, Alec Guinness.

(Walker) Peter wanted to be
another Alec Guinness.

Peter felt that mimicry was fine.
He could do that.

But to be a straight actor, as he knew
Guinness could do, that was Peter's goal.

The Ladykillers was a big hit.

But despite strong notices,
no other film offers came his way.

So once again
Sellers decided to make his own break.

The spark was ignited in December 1955,

when he happened to watch a TV special
starring a young American.

The next morning I had a phone call.

A voice said "You don't know me,
but I saw your show last night."

"Either that was the worst show that
British television has so far produced,

or I think you're onto something."

I said "Well, do I have a choice?"

That man was Peter Sellers.

So we met, kicked around some ideas.

We decided that we would do
the TV version of the Goon Shows.

The series was called
Idiot Weekly, Price 2d.

The first of six shows was broadcast
live on February 24th 1956.

It was a modest success and proved
to be a warm-up for a second series:

A Show Called Fred.

(gong)

There was a real sense of excitement
about A Show Called Fred.

Now, the first letter tonight is from...

Africa.

Broadcast live, it was fast and frenzied.

Sellers and Lester,
along with Spike Milligan,

broke every convention
of respectable comedy.

These films have been locked away,
unseen, for over 40 years.

Lost in the woods! Lost in the woods!

Nothing but trees,
and I am lost in the woods.

Sacré Coeur! It's Monte Carlo.

Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq,
six, sept, huit, neuf, dix.

The Count of Monte Carlo.

The one thing we tried to do

was to push the rather narrow bounds
of television comedy.

Certainly Spike and Peter were
anxious not to fall into those traps,

and to produce material which was
as visually anarchic and stimulating

as their verbal work had been.

(coconut shells)

Whoa there! Whoa!

- Now then, a groom, a groom.
- A groom.

There you are, groom.

Take these horses and water them.

A Show Called Fred
was 30 minutes of weekly lunacy,

surreal, irreverent
and extremely disrespectful.

It was praised by critics for creating
a revolutionary form of TV comedy

that owed nothing
to radio or the music hall.

Peter Sellers had become Britain's
newest and most original television star.

Well now, first,
good news for housewives.

Here's something you'll find
an invaluable aid when out shopping.

Yes, it's money,
the new wonder currency.

Why don't you get some today?

Poor little hairy titch.

Going out of his mind.
He thinks I want to marry him.

I, who've been promised
to Brigadier Doyle MC.

There, my little wounded bird.
I'll tame your wild blood.

Whether driving a four-poster bed
as if it were a car,

or as a doctor about to
amputate his own nose,

Sellers showed an impressive range
of characterisations.

While movie producers debated
how best to utilise his talents,

Sellers put aside his funny voices to
experiment with pure physical comedy

in the long-lost Cold Comfort.

Atchoo!

In 1957, Sellers finally got
what he'd always dreamed of,

a starring role in a feature film.

In The Naked Truth, he played a TV star

who disguises himself
as five other characters.

An extraordinary performer
was starting to emerge.

My name's Lonaghan
and I'm from across the water.

You'll be O'Toole and
it's right glad that I am to meet you.

And why are we talkin' in the cursed
tongue when we have the Gaelic?

Ohh...

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerych-
wyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch.

An Englishman, all right.

Most reviewers thought he stole the show.

But in his next project there wouldn't be
anyone's thunder to steal but his own.

By 1959, Peter Sellers' work
as a character actor

had earned him the respect
of the British film industry.

With his next movie, he accepted a triple
challenge that would make him a star.

Starring an hilarious new
personality, Peter Sellers,

in three gloriously funny roles.

There isn't a more profitable
undertaking for any country

than to declare war on the United States,
and to be defeated.

Men of Fenwick, when you hear
the name of Grand Fenwick,

- do your hearts swell with pride?
- Yes.

If your country calls,
will you rush to enlist?

No.

Do give my love to your president,
will you? And to Mrs Coolidge too.

The Mouse That Roared, his first starring
role, was a modest success in England,

but in 1960, when the film slipped quietly
into New York, it stayed for seven months,

setting new box-office records
for a British film in America.

Hollywood moguls descended
with offers of work in California,

but, not yet confident in his own abilities,
Sellers turned them down.

It proved a wise choice,

as he would soon rocket to the top
of the British entertainment scene.

I first became aware of Peter Sellers, the
screen performer, at the end of the '50s.

In fact I met him there
on the set of I'm All Right Jack.

John Boulting, the director, had invited
me down to watch the film being made.

I stood by John
and I said "Where is Sellers?"

He said "Standing right beside you."

I looked round and I saw this guy
who was Fred Kite, the union organiser.

I said "You're Peter Sellers?"

That was the greatest tribute
I could've paid him.

Peter believed that
if you couldn't recognise him,

he was close to the character.

Major, if you sack this man you are in
breach of the agreement with the union.

- He's not a union member.
- Correct, but that is merely technical.

Didn't you say that he was incompetent
and couldn't do his job properly?

We do not and cannot accept the principle
that incompetence justifies dismissal.

- That is victimisation.
- That's right.

As Fred Kite, Sellers played it straight,
never overtly trying to be funny.

For his subtle and inspired performance
Sellers won the British Academy award,

beating out Laurence Olivier,
Richard Burton and Peter Finch.

Sellers was on the verge
of international stardom.

But before that he spent two Sundays
in a field with some friends...

and nearly won an Oscar.

Most people have never heard of The
Running Jumping and Standing Still Film,

but this 11-minute short not only got
Peter Sellers an Oscar nomination,

but led to Richard Lester being hired to
direct the Beatles film A Hard Day's Night.

The genesis of Running Jumping and
Standing Still was that Peter loved toys.

He bought himself what was then the
latest camera and he wanted to try it out.

It surprised me that it got the notice,
but I thought it was funny. It's still funny.

It's stolen from Buster Keaton
and Harold Lloyd.

If you think Monty Python
stole from the Goons,

just look at what
the Goons stole from Keaton.

(Lester) So here we are with this £70 film.

We really had no serious intent
to do anything

except a fairly elaborate home movie
to try out the machine.

We were now Academy Award nominees.

The Running Jumping and Standing Still
Film did not win an Oscar,

but Sellers had already thrown himself
into an intense period of moviemaking.

Peter worked in overdrive.
He never stopped.

He had a fear
not uncommon among actors

that if he did stop, it would all stop and he
wouldn't get back in the swing of things.

Those trays get stuck. Just stab that
underneath and they'll come loose.

What are you waiting for? Start stabbing.

In his next film, Sellers added
improvisation to his screen talents.

The highlight of Battle of the Sexes,
an attempted murder,

was largely made up on the set.

That goes in here.

So you're a secret drinker, eh?

Well, well. Still Waters,
that's your name from now on.

Say when.

Don't you ever say when?

Now.

Say... You weren't kidding
when you said that about drinking.

Come on, Still Waters.

By 1960, Sellers was able to pick and
choose the movies he wanted to make.

Tired of what he called
"little man" comedies,

Sellers decided to try something different.
The result shocked his fans.

But...

I told you never to lift anything
within five miles of here.

Never Let Go was a film
Peter wanted to make,

and everyone else tried
to dissuade him from it.

He played - the only time, I think,
in his whole career -

a real, absolute - if I may
use the expression - bastard.

- Pick it up, Tommy.
- Sure, Mr Meadows.

(groans)

You see, they never learn.
They all think they know better than I do.

But you've only got to look at them
and look at me, haven't you?

I've got a legitimate
business here, Tommy.

I've got nearly 200 account customers.

Why? Because I've learnt
that money makes money, Tommy boy.

Never do anything silly
and you could be all right.

The movie fell utterly flat.
It was Peter's first reversal.

It put him off playing unsympathetic
characters, I think, for ever.

He realised that he could suffer,
he could be hurt.

Sellers' next film, The Millionairess,
paired him with Sophia Loren.

The on-screen chemistry
between them was sizzling,

but the film did only lukewarm business
at the box office.

However, it gave Sellers a taste of what
it was like to be a romantic leading man.

And he liked it a lot.

He embarked on a series of crash diets
and exercise programmes,

designed to transform a plump actor
into a slender, charismatic movie star.

All I can say is that it did surprise us

that this little fat jolly fellow
that we knew in the mid '50s

was altered in such an extraordinary way.

Yes, Peter Sellers as
the greatest lover in Aberdarcy,

and discoverer of a few
new rules of gamesmanship.

Versatile Peter Sellers
displays a new talent

as the would-be playboy
with only one game in mind.

- What is it?
- It's Vernon.

Get out of bed. Quickly.

Even when he was the romantic lead

you knew that sooner or later
a bucket would fall on him.

And we all waited for that to happen.

Surprised?

And this is where the fun really begins!

Agh!

He was a supreme character actor.

There was nothing he couldn't do.

Except make love to a girl.

Sellers endeared himself to audiences
by playing a bumbling romantic.

His physical comedy laid the foundation
for his first American movie,

and his most famous character.

We must find that woman.

No one knew The Pink Panther
was going to be the hit it was.

Even Peter didn't.

What was that?

Peter wasn't supposed to be in the film.

It was supposed to be another Peter -
Peter Ustinov.

Peter Ustinov backed out just days
before shooting was to begin in Rome.

Director Blake Edwards made frantic calls
searching for a replacement.

After seeing two of Peter's films,
Edwards cast him immediately.

But when Peter was asked to play
the part of the bumbling French detective,

and he was flying from London to Rome,

he'd no idea how he was going to play it.

He thought about it as he went.

Peter nearly always got the voice first.
That's how he started his characters.

But on this occasion he was lighting
his cigar with a box of matches

that had a character
called Captain Webb...

There's a man in a striped swimsuit,
old-fashioned, with a large moustache.

Peter said "That moustache looks fairly
good to me. Clouseau might wear that."

He'd bought himself that very morning
a new Burberry trench coat.

He said "I used to imitate
Humphrey Bogart to get the girls."

"They loved my imitations of
Humphrey Bogart. He wore a trench coat."

"So maybe I'll use that trench coat."

By the time he stepped off
the plane in Rome,

he had assembled the characteristics
that became those of Inspector Clouseau.

In The Pink Panther, Sellers performed
with superb timing and subtlety,

revealing the pathos in the character,
and underplaying the slapstick.

People forget that the star of
The Pink Panther was not Peter Sellers,

it was David Niven.

But it was Peter Sellers who stole the film.

It was a new kind of performance
that Peter was giving.

It was a performance based upon
physical comedy, not just verbal comedy.

(hums)

It was like Chaplin.
He created a real character.

You can't take it away from him.
It's a really original filmic character.

From the moment they met, Peter Sellers
and Blake Edwards found an affinity

in their love of Chaplin, Keaton,
and especially Laurel and Hardy.

They brought out the best in each other.

Peter's performance in
The Pink Panther was so brilliant

that the studio went into production on a
sequel before the first film was released.

A Shot in the Dark is always for me the
best example of Peter Sellers clowning.

Thank you, monsieur.

Really, whoever invented that rack
should have his head examined.

Well...

- We will continue at another time.
- A pleasure at any time.

(thud)

I suggest you have your architect
investigated as well.

The Pink Panther and A Shot in the Dark
were huge hits.

Overflowing with confidence, Peter
was now ready to conquer Hollywood,

if not the world.

An English comedy actor off
the BBC Home Service, the Goon Shows,

suddenly appearing in
a major American movie

with the great American director
Stanley Kubrick. One felt rather proud.

Fantastic!

Oh!

Ha!

Peter was very fortunate
in several of the directors he found,

cos they worked on
the same wavelength as he did.

Dick Lester - certainly,
Blake Edwards - up to a point,

and especially Stanley Kubrick.

... ten females to each male?

Peter loved a man
who would let him improvise.

Peter was absolutely brilliant on the first
take. The second take was even better.

Oh! Oh...

Stanley used to say to me
"He reaches a kind of ecstasy of comedy."

It looks like we're in a shooting war.

Oh, hell. Are the Russians involved, sir?

Dr Strangelove

or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and...

(woman) Love the Bomb.

It was an astounding
achievement by Sellers.

Three great performances in one film,

for which it was assumed
he would win an Oscar.

But what few know is that he was
supposed to play a fourth part in the film:

Major Kong, the cowboy soldier
who goes down with the bomb.

However, the heavy workload,

made even tougher by Kubrick's
multiple takes, wore Peter down.

He conveniently sustained an ankle injury
so he wouldn't have to finish the part,

and he was replaced by Slim Pickens.

A more surprising fact
about the making of the movie

is that it had a different ending.

At the very end, Dr Strangelove,
excited by the idea of world destruction,

rising from his wheelchair, raising his arm
and saying "Mein Führer, I can walk!"

At that point Stanley cut the film.

There was a sequence after that
in which the denizens of the war room -

the president, his military advisers, the
security people, the Russian ambassador -

all engage in a custard-pie fight.

In other words, the whole thing
had been reduced to absurdity,

where the nations were fighting
with their day's lunch.

When you see the film, you see
the food laid out on the tables.

It's never touched.
You wonder why it's there.

They shot this. It went on and on and on,

but at the end when they put it together,

Stanley Kubrick wasn't very happy
about it, neither was Peter. It didn't work.

It was cut out of the film for two reasons.

One was that the physical
recognisability of the people was lost,

because they had so much cream pie
sticking to themselves.

You couldn't exactly tell
who was being hit after a time.

The other was that one of the shots
showed the president

being hit in the face by a cream pie,

and I think it's George C Scott who says

"Gentlemen, our beloved president
has been cut down in his prime."

And of course the film had to open after
the assassination of Kennedy in Dallas.

Sellers telephoned Spike
and told him what had happened

and that they didn't know how to
end the film. Had he any ideas?

Spike said "Just have Vera Lynn
singing 'We'll Meet Again'."

"Mein Führer, I can walk"
and then the huge atomic explosions,

and Vera Lynn singing -
a touch of the Goonish songs -

"We'll meet again,
don't know where, don't know when."

Seven years earlier, as far as
the film business was concerned,

Peter Sellers was practically unknown.

Now, in 1964, he had become
the celluloid king of comedy.

After a three-week courtship, he married
a 21-year-old Swedish starlet, Britt Ekland.

He felt loved and his friends
had never seen him happier.

He was going to Hollywood
to make a film with Billy Wilder,

whose sophisticated adult comedy
Peter greatly admired.

For a brief time, perhaps the only time,
everything in his life was in sync,

and Peter Sellers was a happy man.
It didn't last long.

After six weeks of shooting
Kiss Me, Stupid,

the working relationship between
Sellers and Wilder deteriorated.

Sellers liked to improvise.

Wilder was a disciplinarian who insisted
the script be performed as written.

Arguments between them
became fierce and more frequent.

But before disaster could strike on the set,

on April 7th 1964, at the age of 38,
Peter Sellers died.

A massive heart attack stopped Peter's
heart for one and a half minutes.

If even a few more seconds had passed,
he would have been a vegetable.

Even after he was stabilised,
he suffered six more cardiac arrests

and then two more.

But this man who should have died
made an amazing recovery.

Later he told friends that a vision
of his mother appeared to him

and beckoned him back from the grave.

He told me that he wasn't
afraid of dying after that.

I think obviously it did have something to
do with his way of life, with his attitude.

It did affect him.

I'm not saying he was mental,
but it mentally affected him.

I noticed this transition in him.

He returned to England,
where his condition steadily improved.

But the time spent in Los Angeles
had left a bitter taste in Peter's mouth.

Perhaps unwisely, in an interview with
Alexander Walker, he blasted Hollywood.

Movie people resented his attitude.

He issued an apology, claiming
he had been misunderstood,

but the damage was done.

Many observers believe his angry outburst
cost him the Oscar for Dr Strangelove.

In the fall of 1964,

having made a miraculous recovery
from his heart attack,

Peter Sellers was ready to return to work.

The first role of his "second life"

was in a film written for
American television by Rod Serling.

In this retelling
of Dickens' A Christmas Carol,

Sellers is positively electrifying as
a demagogue in a post-apocalyptic world.

Now then...

They don't come out in so many words
and say that they wanna take us over.

They're too clever for that.

But that's what they want.

They wanna take over us individual me's.

And if we let them seep in here
from down yonder and cross-river,

if we let these do-gooders,
these bleeding hearts,

propagate their insidious doctrine
of involvement among us,

then, my dear friends, my beloved me's,

we's in trouble.

Deep, deep trouble.

Few people have ever seen
Carol for Another Christmas,

which aired once and vanished.
It was thought to be lost, until now.

From 1965 to 1970, Sellers appeared
in eight big-budget movies,

for which he was paid
well over a million dollars each.

But although his bank balance
was going up,

the quality of his movies
was going down.

Later in his career, Peter made far too
many films that didn't do him any good.

One of the reasons was that
the money was being offered to him,

he couldn't refuse it.

The decline of Peter Sellers
lasted for six years.

He made an unbroken string of flops.

Critics became indifferent to his work.
So did the audience.

His fees plummeted. He became unhappy
with himself and unhappy with his work.

His marriage to Britt dissolved.

In the midst of this artistic wasteland,

Sellers made three films
that weren't even released.

Listen, fairy. Do you sell beer here too?

Among other things, yes.

Pipi, why don't you go and see how many
bottles we've got in our private collection,

while I try and keep
this young man happy?

A Day at the Beach, written
and co-produced by Roman Polanski,

was screened once in 1970
and then shelved.

Lost for decades,
almost no one has seen this film.

By 1973, Peter Sellers
was box-office poison.

The one place he could find
lucrative work was in commercials.

Hello, there. May I be blunt?

Flying in the USA, I find it difficult
to tell one airline from another.

(ltalian accent)
Eh, when I'm in Europe, I'm happy.

Right now, I'm flying TWA over Pittsburgh
and I'm still happy.

Trans World Airlines bring you
Trans World Vacations.

Let's go, MacDougal.

- Sinful, that zabaglione, eh?
- (brays)

TWA's Trans World Service.
It doesn't cost a penny more,

and it gives businessmen flying coach
the greatest lift since wingtip shoes.

These spots brought in
some badly needed cash,

but Sellers literally didn't know
where his next job was coming from.

But, just like his most famous creation,
Peter Sellers landed on his feet.

How do you know so much
about city ordinances?

What sort of stupid question is that?
Are you blind?

Yes.

With both their careers at a low point,

Sellers and Blake Edwards
decided to team up once again.

They made a magnificent return to form
with three new Pink Panther adventures,

all of which attained
colossal box-office success.

Sellers the has-been was once again one
of the world's highest-paid performers.

Until we meet again
and the case is solved.

His comeback was so strong it couldn't be
derailed by a mild heart attack in 1976.

Sellers considered having open-heart
surgery at this time, but kept putting it off.

That indecision would
come back to haunt him.

Peter married again,
this time to Lynne Frederick.

Now that he was back on top, he used
his clout to set up his dream project.

Peter loved the idea of straight acting.

The greater the success as a comedian,

the more he yearned
for success as an actor.

That's why he wanted to make
Being There so, so strongly.

(Secombe) I thought that was
the best thing he did.

I asked him what made him
choose the character.

He said "Stan Laurel."

He was very fond of Stan Laurel

and he visited him whenever he was
in Hollywood. They had tea together.

If you look at him now, you can see it.

Think of Stan Laurel when you watch it.

(Lodge) He had also
a gardener called Mr Doobry.

Mr Doobry used to walk very stiff

and he used to have an apron on
with all his secateurs and things.

Peter said "Listen to this.
What's going to happen to the garden?"

Mr Doobry would say
"Well, Mr Sellers, I have to tell you,

those over there will die,
those over there will die,

but them there, they'll be 'pernament'."

Now, when he made Being There,

that was a mixture of
Stan Laurel and Mr Doobry.

For the first time in his life, Peter Sellers
was playing a character close to himself.

The author of Being There,
Jerzy Kosinski, said

"Sellers understood my character
of Chauncey Gardiner better than I."

"For good reason - he has no interior life,

no sense of himself, no notion of what
he was or who he would like to become."

"Being There was
Peter's spiritual portrait."

I wanted to do it very much.
I knew it was a supporting role,

but I simply wanted to work with Peter,

in a way that I knew would be
probably his greatest performance.

I did it just to see a genius at work.

As long as the roots are not severed,

all is well,
and all will be well... in the garden.

- In the garden.
- Yes.

In a garden, growth has its season.

First come spring and summer,

but then we have fall and winter.

And then we get
spring and summer again.

I think what our insightful
young friend is saying

is that we welcome
the inevitable seasons of nature,

but we're upset by
the seasons of our economy.

Yes.

There will be growth in the spring.

- Mm.
- Mm.

Mm.

I can't imagine many other people
taking on a role like that,

and playing it with such a stillness.

There was something in the look
and the way he held himself.

His marvellous economy of expression -

how much he could say by just
the slightest movement of the face.

He was absolutely Chauncey.

He was vacant. He was this sort of savant,
dumb, retarded, yet brilliant person.

Simple. He was Chauncey.

I've never worked with an actor who was
so completely engulfed in the character.

If you compare it with the other noted
performances of that kind of idiot savant,

of Forrest Gump
and Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man...

Less showy, and to me
infinitely more impressive.

A character like that could easily fade,
and with it one's interest in the film.

But for me it never did.
I was on the edge of my seat throughout,

in what was a fairly gentle film.

I think he achieved something almost
transcendental in that performance.

Being There was
the crowning achievement

of Sellers' long and arduous
creative journey.

In this one performance,
he utilised every aspect of his genius,

and was rewarded with superb reviews
and an Academy Award nomination.

He was crushed when he didn't win.

His health was failing rapidly.
He was losing weight and becoming frail.

At 53, he wasn't old, but he looked old.

He and Lynne began spending more and
more time at their chalet in Switzerland.

Sellers was developing new films

that promised to make him wealthy
beyond all measure:

Romance of the Pink Panther,
that he was co-writing,

and a remake of a Preston Sturges film.

Typically, Sellers became restless
waiting for these to come to fruition.

Barclays Bank came to the rescue

by offering him one million pounds to
make a series of television commercials.

The money was too good to pass up,

so Sellers threw himself into
the creation of a new character.

Allow me to assist you in your
predicament. Been on the fiddle, have we?

- That happens to be my first pay packet.
- We wasn't paid by the note, was we?

Thank you very much.

- Who are you?
- Monty, your new manager.

Casino's the name, money's the game.

- What was you doing there?
- Looking for rooms.

Clean, comfortable, inexpensive rooms.

Hah! It's uncanny. You read my mind.
It's déjà vu, you know.

There's only one left. 100 nicker down
and 25 large ones a week.

- Is it much further?
- Further? This is it.

These commercials would be the last time
Peter Sellers ever appeared on film.

He had this sudden attack of...

He said "I don't have a heart.
I have a pacemaker."

"I think it's gone into fifth gear.
Could you get a doctor?"

Sellers had postponed doing
anything about his heart trouble,

but this latest attack convinced him
he must deal with it once and for all.

He made plans to fly to Los Angeles

for tests in preparation
for open-heart surgery.

But first he stopped in London
for a reunion with old friends.

I got a message from Spike Milligan:
"Let's have dinner with Peter Sellers

before one of us is walking
behind the coffin."

"Let's just have dinner together."

I didn't think Peter was gonna die.
I thought it happened so often

that he would get through it again.

I was sitting in my living room
here in Malibu with some friends.

We were talking about something and all
of a sudden I had this chill go through me

and I thought of Peter. I thought
"My Lord! He feels like he's here...

in the room with me."

I didn't know why all this went
physically through my body.

The phone rang. It was a journalist.

"Your friend Peter Sellers has just died.
Do you have any comment?"

And I thought "My God..."

We never had dinner together.
Very sad, that.

It was the end of an era.

But they can't take away all
the great years and the fun we had.

There are so many scripts
that I know that do the rounds.

"If only Peter Sellers was alive,
this is absolutely right for him."

Peter's legacy is
as a wonderful entertainer.

A unique entertainer.

A person who could play comedy,
but give it a humanity.

(Palin) If genius means being able to do
something which no one else can do,

and do it superbly,
then Sellers probably was a genius.

He was able to act comedy -
I mean, act well and play comedy -

in such a way that I don't think anyone
else before or since has done it as well.

The best way that any comic would want
is that people watched him and laughed.

Full stop.

On screen, on stage, he could do it.

Off, he was a different man.

But he was my pal, and I loved him.

(Secombe) I miss the funny voices,
because he'd do them at the drop of a hat.

He'd become somebody
completely different in a nanosecond.

That was the great thing about him.

Lovely man, he was. I'm very fond of him.

On the day he died,
many voices were silenced for ever.

The beloved Goon characters,
the defective French detective,

and Chance the gardener amongst them.

Looking back at his remarkable career,

it's hard to argue with those who believe
Peter Sellers could indeed walk on water.

It's, um... very good, very good.

ENHOH