In Memoriam
Remembering Blake Edwards's Last Bow
On the evening of September 30, 2010, I participated in a program at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences called "An Evening with Blake Edwards." Blake and I were seated side by side on the stage of the Samuel Goldwyn Theater before an enthusiastic audience of approximately 1,000, to discuss his life and career.
Our relationship had started a long time before that night. In 1960, Blake was one of the earliest targets of the newly formed Mirisch Company's campaign to add the services of the industry's most talented directors to our roster of Billy Wilder, John Sturges, William Wyler, and Robert Wise. I had met Blake in 1948, when we were both beginning our careers at the little Monogram Studios, but our careers—his as a writer-director, mine as a producer—had gone in different directions by the time we reconnected and made a four-picture writing, producing, and directing deal. He had already directed Operation Petticoat (1959) with Cary Grant, Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961) with Audrey Hepburn, Experiment in Terror (1962) with Glenn Ford, and Days of Wine and Roses (1962) with Jack Lemmon, among others.
His place in the pantheon of such great writer-producer-directors as Preston Sturges and Billy Wilder was already assured. However, he ascended to the level of the immortals with the first film we worked on together, The Pink Panther. His collaboration with the actor Peter Sellers, which began on this film, would produce some of the most uproarious minutes ever captured on film. This movie and its successor, A Shot In The Dark, and the ensuing long list of Inspector Clouseau's continuing adventures have entertained audiences for nearly half a century, and there is no reason to believe that succeeding generations of film audiences will not continue to roar with laughter at the combined comedic genius of Blake Edwards and Peter Sellers. Blake and I later collaborated on What Did You Do In The War, Daddy? and The Party, again with Peter Sellers.
On that evening at the Academy only seven short weeks ago, Blake and I talked for nearly two hours. He was obviously failing and physically straining, but he made an extraordinary effort to reveal as much of himself as he could to his hugely appreciative audience. When our conversation concluded, the entire assemblage of the theater rose to give a standing ovation to Blake. He was sitting in a wheel chair, and I watched him make a herculean effort to rise and acknowledge the applause of his audience one last time. He said to me quietly, "I must stand up for them." Holding my arm for support, he waved his other arm in a fond farewell.
Walter Mirisch is the president and executive head of production of The Mirisch Corporation, the former president of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, and a recipient of the Irving Thalberg Memorial Award.
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