Recently while watching "The Return of the Pink Panther," I recalled the good times I spent with Peter Sellers.
When Blake Edwards died, I remembered the awkward relationship he had with Peter and that it was fraught with angst.
Despite what appeared to be successful team work, Peter and Blake fought over many things.
Peter did not want to keep rehashing the Pink Panther series and felt that filming sequels was a mistake and damaging to his career. Also, Blake Edwards had wanted Peter to have a face lift.
Because of Peter's bad heart, he was afraid of any operation, but in "Being There," Peter had lost his double chins and possibly had taken Blake's advice.
In my recent memoir in progress, I recall meeting Peter at a party in the Hollywood Hills. We were introduced to each other by the producer, Stan Dragotti. Stan and I wandered outside and sat in the courtyard. It was a warm summer's night and romance was in the air. Peter Sellers and Roman Polanski were exchanging stories.
"Peter and Roman, this is Carole Mallory," Stan said.
"How beautiful you are in the moonlight, Miss Mallory," Peter said, smiling. "It is Miss is it not?"
"For now, yes," I said.
Roman stood up and kissed my hand in a mock courtly manner.
"What brings you to this event?" Peter asked.
"The 'who' is my friend, Bruce. The 'what' is probably the same 'what' that brought you."
Peter laughed. "Ah, but aren't you being a bit presumptuous?"
"Why not? I'm wearing pink!"
"That's a good reason. I see your point! Stan told me you are a bit unusual aside from your beauty. You must be a Capricorn."
"How did you know?" I asked, shocked.
"My dear, I believe in astrology and the spirits. I'm a Virgo, myself."
"I dominate you."
"I think I'd like that. When?"
I began to laugh. Peter was fun. Roman, who had been watching, was having trouble sitting still. He was so happy to be exchanging stories with Peter.
Roman piped up. "Later, later, you two. We were in the middle of something. Peter, go on! What happened after you bought the fireworks?"
"Yes, yes, well, last Fourth of July, I was a guest on Sam Spiegel's yacht in the South of France and we were on the bay of St. Jean Cap Ferrat. The 'Malahne' was anchored in front of David Niven's home. I dressed in an old German army officer's uniform and announced over the loudspeaker in a German accent that we were about to torpedo the harbor."
Peter stood on a chair and saluted. "Wir ist going zu bomb ziz port Cap Ferrat in zehn minuten ... guten tag, mine that kinder."
Peter sat down chuckling. "Well, there were foghorns, sirens, fireworks and a huge smokescreen. Sam had arranged it all for the Fourth of July.
