Peter Sellers (1925-1980) was a famously enigmatic actor, who by all accounts hid behind a seemingly endless supply of prosthetic noses and funny voices. "If you ask me to play myself," he once said, "I will not know what to do. I do not know who or what I am." This HBO/BBC production, written by Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely from Roger Lewis's biography, takes the dark, self-loathing clown approach, an overly familiar but apparently accurate reflection of the real man. Like Milos Forman's often excellent film about comedian Andy Kaufman, Man on the Moon (1999), the script blurs the "real" Peter Sellers' life with his movie alter-egos. Where Man on the Moon at times played like one of Kaufman's notorious put-ons, Peter Sellers (Geoffrey Rush) plays multiple roles in his own biopic, a device that doesn't really work, though not for want of trying.

Sometimes scenes will end with "Sellers" taking over the role of a wife or colleague, addressing the camera in the form of little testimonials, as if Sellers himself were writing (and righting) the story of his life; the effect mainly comes off as gimmicky. A better idea was to have Sellers, who often stayed in character during production, living the role (also like Kaufman), reflecting his emotions to others through the character he's playing at that moment. In one deleted scene (included as an extra feature) for instance, Sellers, in the midst of shooting Being There, talks to last wife Lynne Frederick as Chance the gardener, likening their relationship to a big tree (Sellers) blotting out the sun for the little tree (Frederick) in its shadow.

In one sense the gimmicky nature of the script is almost pointless given how bizarre and revealing Sellers' own behavior frequently was. Some of Sellers' tales have become the stuff of legend, from his crippling fears of certain colors to his dependence on psychic/shyster Maurice Woodruff (Stephen Fry), which led to much bizarre behavior, including, if it is to be believed, an impulsive marriage to Swedish beauty Britt Ekland on the grounds that her initials (the same as frequent collaborator Blake Edwards) would bring him a lasting relationship.

Sellers is depicted most unflatteringly, as a delusional, immature man with an uncomfortably Oedipal relationship with his mother (Miriam Margolyes, very good) and with no sense of self. (One great scene has him lash out at Blake Edwards after being disgusted by his own performance in The Pink Panther.) His emotions turn on a dime, and he finds little comfort in the accolades and financial rewards fame brings him. He's physically and emotionally abusive to everyone around him. Like a child he stomps on his son's toys then buys him a pony as if to erase his abhorrent behavior.

The show's best assets are the performance of Geoffrey Rush and the at times uncanny recreations of Sellers' films. Rush is perfectly cast, striking just the right balance between impressionist and actor. Most telling is a scene where, as Sellers, Rush plays his famous telephone monologue as U.S. President Merkin Muffley in Dr. Strangelove. Rather than an inflection-for-inflection imitation, Rush plays the scene his own way, yet in character as both Sellers and Muffley. (In the otherwise tepid House on Haunted Hill Rush pulled a similar trick with his wonderful imitation of Vincent Price, which lets enough of his own personality seep in.) Sellers went through multiple transformations off-camera as well as on, from pudgy to slender and nerdy-suave to frail and sickly, and Rush nails each phase dead-on. Most of Sellers' big hits are recreated, but also lesser-known works like Carlton-Browne of the F.O. (1959). Squint and at times you'd swear you were looking at the actual movies.

The A-list cast is uniformly fine, from Charlize Theron's surprisingly effective Britt Ekland to Stanley Tucci's manipulative Stanley Kubrick to John Lithgow's edgy Blake Edwards. (Sonia Aquino, however, looks nothing at all like Sophia Loren, and fails to capture her essence.) Emily Watson is also very good as Sellers' first wife, Anne.

Some viewers may complain about the short shrift given fellow Goons Spike Milligan and Harry Secombe who, for those unfamiliar with their import, play like talentless hangers-on. (A Goon Show recreation is also marred by shaky camera work suggesting that a major earthquake struck the BBC midway through their performance.) Sellers' last wife, Lynne Frederick, is barely mentioned and his third wife not at all. Possibly for legal reasons, The Pink Panther Strikes Again is depicted as Sellers' return to that franchise, rather than Return of the Pink Panther, which was made before. There's no mention of Kiss Me, Stupid or Billy Wilder, whose creative head-butting with Sellers may have contributed to the latter's massive heart attack.

Video & Audio

The Life and Death of Peter Sellers is presented in 1.77:1 widescreen in 16:9 anamorphic format. (The show received a theatrical release in some parts of the world.) Both the image and the 5.1 mix (also available in 2.0 stereo) are up to present-day standards and serve the film well. Optional English, French, and Spanish subtitles are also available.

Extra Features

The DVD has a nice selection of extras, including two informative Commentary Tracks. The first pairs director Stephen Hopkins (Traffic, 24) and Rush, the second with writers Markus and McFeely. There's also 17 minutes of Deleted Scenes (in 4:3 matted format), several of which are quite interesting; one (apparently) incorporates Markus and McFeely themselves into the story. Making "The Life and Death of Peter Sellers" (12 minutes, in 4:3 format) is mostly a promo piece, but it does feature short interviews Hopkins and the cast, as well as Blake Edwards, who confirms the accuracy of his stormy relationship with the actor.

Parting Thoughts

The Life and Death of Peter Sellers is fun to watch though a good biography would be more substantive. The show does just about as good a job as is possible, trying to define the perhaps indefinable face behind the mask that was Peter Sellers.

Stuart Galbraith IV is a Los Angeles and Kyoto-based film historian whose work includes The Emperor and the Wolf -- The Lives and Films of Akira Kurosawa and Toshiro Mifune. His new book, Cinema Nippon will be published by Taschen in 2005.