Of the many epithets that await him, "The Baby Boomers' Mack Senett" is no doubt at the top of the list, as he, even more than Richard Lester, is responsible for the resuscitation of the genre after its pratfall into the mud puddle of obscurity.
But let's not forget the other traditions he brought back from the dead: the sophisticated salon comedy, a decade after Paramount traded Maurice Chevalier and Jeanette MacDonald for Hope and Crosby, and, surprisingly, the musical, when Victor/Victoria became a smash.
I am speaking, of course, of Blake Edwards, the venerable Hollywood workhorse who just turned 84. And though he is no longer choreographing stunt men or commissioning lush musical scores, he is still very much a fixture in the film firmament, collecting lifetime achievement awards and basking in tributes.
No need, then, to run my mouth a la salutary clip reel, with scenes from Operation Petticoat, Breakfast At Tiffany's, and The Pink Panther
Instead, allow me to ask this: are Edwards' least heralded films, his odd forays into drama, receiving their rightful portion of the praise?
In the interest of justice, then, let's look at two of his best:Days of Wine And Roses and Experiment In Terror.
Both were produced between 1962 and 1963, a period during which Edwards was not only enjoying his biggest film success - Tiffany's - but was knee deep in television to boot, with no less than 3 series on the air, including ratings darling Peter Gunn. Like Hitchcock, whose Alfred Hitchcock Presents was on the tube at the same time, Edwards was instrumental in the successful transfer of series television methodology to 'A" list feature filmmaking; it's evident in many of the conventions the aforementioned films share: spare, minimally dressed sets, economical lighting, close-up after close-up, and an emphasis on character and dialogue - a far cry from the wide canvas across which he would later splash things like The Great Race.
Days of Wine And Roses - 1963
This chilling drama (which started as a TV property, in fact) begins in the fashion of a typical Edwards romantic comedy: a chance meeting between the two main characters, a romantic Henry Mancini theme, and the casting of Jack Lemmon and Lee Remick, hitherto recognized as industry lightweights. But by the conclusion of the first act, we are fully immersed in a world forceful, dark and little relenting. This is an examination of Kennedy-era alcoholism that breathes rancid breath in the face of dramatic compromise. Lemmon's performance is the best dramatic work of his career; his two flagship scenes - the destruction of a greenhouse in search of a bottle, and his consequent drying-out in a sanitarium - are examples of the kind of work of which he was capable before he started spreading it on too thick or relying on Jack Lemmonisms. And Lee Remick proves what an injustice it was that she was never again given a chance to show her range. Note how easily she transforms herself from Nordic beauty to powerless drunk with just a simple adjustment of her hair. Edwards had employed her before, but only as window dressing, in the earlier...
Experiment in Terror - 1962
...his lone shot at the thriller, a thin but atmospheric cat-and-mouse between an asthmatic San Francisco stalker and a no-nonsense FBI agent, with Remick caught in the middle. It's the kind of property Edwards could have easily done for TV, save for the third act - no doubt the reason for doing it on the big screen: a climactic, full-scale chase at Candlestick Park. The film is also elevated by some nice macabre touches, and one of Henry Mancini's most low key and unobtrusive scores (he wasn't out to win Oscars for this one.) You'll also see a young, round-faced Stephanie Powers as Remick's baby sister, virtually unrecognizable from the voluptuous image she developed later for TV.
Scratch a clown, it's been said, and find a tragedian. Edwards may be no exception, that's true. But scratch harder; there's something else under all those swimming pool-bound knockabouts: a darn good dramatic storyteller.
