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New 'Pink Panther' is howlingly bad

The Pink Panther must be a cursed gem.

The famous, flawed diamond that lends its name to nearly all the movies featuring bumbling Inspector Jacques Clouseau brought the series' original star, Peter Sellers, fame and fortune. But every movie that has appropriated the title since Sellers died in 1980 has been irredeemably awful.

Sony Pictures 'The Pink Panther' 1 out of 5 stars The verdict: Steve Martin's prequel is a cinematic cubic zirconia. Director: Shawn Levy Starring: Steve Martin, Kevin Kline, Jean Reno, Emily Mortimer, Beyoncé Knowles Run time: 93 minutes Release date: Feb. 10, 2006 Rating: PG for occasional crude and suggestive humor and language. See showtimes On the web Official movie site View the trailer    Trailers require Quicktime Rate 'The Pink Panther'   Go see it   Make it a matinee   Wait to rent   Don't bother Voter Limit: Once per Hour View Poll Results

Steve Martin doesn't break the curse.

As the film opens, Clouseau is brought in to buy time for conniving Chief Inspector Dreyfus (Kevin Kline, gamely playing straight man) to solve the murder of a famous soccer coach and the theft of the titular rock. What passes for hilarity in this film ensues as Clouseau and partner Ponton (Jean Reno) investigate the dead man's diva girlfriend (Beyoncé Knowles), star player ("Sex and the City's" William Abadie), and restaurant partner (a haggard Roger Rees).

A prequel of sorts to Blake Edwards' 1963 movie of the same name, Shawn Levy's ("Cheaper by the Dozen") updated "Panther" takes place in an alternate reality where Martin's Jacques Clouseau is an unknown and inept village gendarme, French people speak badly accented English at home, and audiences still find Viagra jokes endlessly amusing.

Because the ultimate outcome is never in doubt and most of the jokes are as worn as Clouseau's socks, the movie's only possible redemption resides in Martin's ability to pull off the improbably tortuous setups. Sadly, he isn't up to the task.

Peter Sellers' Clouseau retained his dignity despite the slapstick, quietly saddened by his own bumbling. Martin plays Clouseau far more broadly and less aware of his own surroundings, reducing Clouseau from actor to victim, less a driver of events than the first domino to fall. It makes it difficult to care about Clouseau, even as the script piles on the sentiment and delivers a few late-movie chuckles.

Maybe it's not that the Pink Panther diamond is cursed, maybe it's that the true jewel of the original movies was Sellers himself. By comparison, Martin simply looks like the latest in a string of cheap pasteboard imitations.