Word: cannoneering
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Then there are the familiar, likable actors: the recently-revived Dyan Cannon (better than ever these days) as Clouseau's tag-along; the smooth, stylishly resonant Robert Webber (also not around in the last few years and also better than ever) as the heavy; and Herbert Lom, in the best of his Inspector Dreyfuss portrayals. There was too much of Lom in Strikes Again, and Edwards directed him badly, but here he's wired to short-circuit on sight of Clouseau, toppling over in hilarious catatonia...
...surrounded the house with officers wearing flak jackets and carrying automatic weapons. Fearful of feeding racial tensions or harming the children, city officials decided not to use force. Instead, they tried to starve MOVE into surrender. For 56 days, the police isolated the block with sawhorses, aimed a water cannon at the house and cut off its gas, water and electricity. Finally, in May, the siege ended. MOVE members reluctantly turned their weapons over to the police and promised to vacate the house within 90 days...
...this entry, Peter Sellers' Inspector Clouseau has never been balmier, and Dyan Cannon gives new blouse to the word blowsy as a sharpshooting businessman's castoff mistress. The movie has more plot than Birth of a Nation, and there is no sign anywhere (save during the credits) of a panther; but those who have battered their thought processes through four previous PPs could care less: they just want more, if possible without paraquat...
...flowering shrub directly behind a lamppost, so that the street light seems to be emitting great sprays of blossom in broad daylight. In one way, Elliott Erwitt's New Jersey, 1953, is a most plainly observed view by a roadside: sky, bushes, bus stop. But the cannon muzzle poking over the top of the bushes removes it to another tract of the imagination. For a moment the areas "out there" and "in here" fuse in an image of brilliantly calculated mystery, all the more effective for its offhandedness...
...Last of Sheila was almost the last of Cannon-for a while, anyway. Her private life was on the skids. After a grim 1969 divorce from Cary Grant and experiments with acid and mescaline, she tried all sorts of trendy emotional cures, including Esalen and primal-scream therapy. Cannon even installed a padded howling room in her Spanish-style home in Malibu. Eventually she decided to drop out of movies for a spell. "It used to be devastating for me to finish anything-the last five pages of a book, an affair or a film," she recalls...