The Pink Panther 2 review

The panther returns. Shouldn't have bothered.

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“You’ve failed to improve at every opportunity!” sighs Lily Tomlin’s etiquette expert after her latest pupil, Steve Martin’s beurm-bling Inspector Clouseau, makes his latest politically incorrect gaffe.

She could, of course, be talking of PP2 itself, a predictably woeful affair that achieves the not inconsiderable feat of being even more unbearable than its 2006 predecessor.

Drafted in to join a detective “dream team” assigned to bring down international gem thief The Tornado, Martin’s English-mangling buffoon is soon destroying restaurants, falling down chimneys and impersonating the Pope.

Small wonder the likes of Andy Garcia, Aishwarya Rai and John Cleese look on with such horror, expressions they will no doubt repeat once the reality of having Harald Zwart’s (Agent Cody Banks) turkey on their CVs hits home.

The single highlight is a cartoon titles sequence that sees the eponymous pussy pose in a string of famous paintings.

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