The Pink Panther, 1963

First viewing. Quarantine watch with mom and dad. Dad pick.

I’ve been sticking with my daily movie even while away from home, and while last night’s movie was just something for me to do while mom and dad did their thing, tonight dad wanted to watch with me, and requested The Pink Panther. Unfortunately he got confused which one was the insanely funny one that we saw in the theater when I was a teen and we watched the 1963 one that featured the mere budding of Inspector Clouseau’s hilarity instead. 

It’s not terribly funny. It’s gorgeous with its beautiful actors, scenery, Yves St. Laurent costumes and magnificent Mancini soundtrack. It has a lot of classic slapstick bits, but when you know just how insane the sequels get, it comes off quaint and a bit dull.

Not one thing in it reminded me of the inauguration, which we watched earlier in the day and was the first time I ever sat through a whole one. I didn’t even watch Aretha at Obama’s, it just never was something I felt like watching. For some reason I wanted to see this. And now it occurs to me that it, too, was full of gorgeous scenery, people, clothes and music. And its dullness was refreshing.