It is a performances centric movie

I like movies that are aware of what they are selling... without [any] greater aspirations than to make people laugh and that's it.

Simple and well acted, it has tension enough to knot the stomach.

The movie's neither hopeful in contrived ways, nor hopeless in different contrived ways. Somehow it manages to be wonderful

In this picture, Peter Sellers has showed, in my humble opinion, that he was the very best comic actor of his time, and probably of all times. Sure the movie is from the 60's and the standards have kind of changed since then, but I can't stop laughing when I watch The Party, even if I surely know ahead what's gonna happen. Great comedy!

This movie is so funny, that alone deserves 10 stars. But, on top of that, there's this great mid-century modern house which also takes part in the party. It's like a living member of the cast. Peter Sellers sports black/brown face. I'm guessing, that was easier than finding an equally talented Indian actor to play an Indian actor. Peter Sellers was one of the most talented actors that ever lived. The Party is everything. It's how I wanna live and where I wanna live. My ultimate fantasy.

In a Gunga Din-like movie, bumbling east Indian actor Hrundi V. Bakshi (Peter Sellers) keeps screwing up and the director throws him out. A clerical error at the studio gets Bakshi invited to an exclusive party hosted by the wealthy Clutterbuck family. It's a night of chaos instigated by Bakshi.There is something off-putting about brown-face. It's another time when it was acceptable. It still bothers me nevertheless. There is undeniably some fun slapstick that Sellers gets into. At least, he's not the bad guy. He's the clown who annoys every character in the movie and suppose to warm the audience's heart. It's the only non-Pink Panther collaboration between Blake Edwards and Peter Sellers. For today's audience, it would work a lot better without the brown-face.

Blake Edwards and Peter Sellers' rowdy comedy about an Indian actor Hrundi V. Bakshi (Sellers), who is brought from India to act in a studio epic picture. When his offbeat improvisation and unwitting behaviour sabotage the entire production, he is fired and black- listed, but by a single mistake, his name is added onto the guest list of a party thrown by Alice Clutterbuck (McKenzie), the wife of the studio head Fred Clutterbuck (McKinley). So Hrundi happily accepts the invitation and attends the party in Clutterbuck's posh mansion, and turns the party into an absurd and bubbly farce.The absurdity might come from the influences of Jacques Tati, but its calibration is much broader and the devil-may-care outlandishness is less refined, quite pertinent to serve the purpose of caricaturing the tawdry and supercilious constitutions of the Tinseltown industry though. Without a particular character-building or story-unfolding, the story meanders aimlessly through Hrundi's slapstick around various characters, among which the guests are all dignified in their formality, apart from the host and hostess, some notable ones are the Western film star Kelso (Miller), a haughty Ms. Dunphy (Champion), and a French chanteuse Michele Monet (Longet) accompanied by bigot producer C.S. Divot (MacLeod). The scale of buffoonery balloons accordingly through Hrundi's often unintended bumbling, and the drunkenness of the waiter Levinson (Franken), whose clash with the major-domo Harry (Lanphier) is crack. But essentially, it is Sellers' one-man-show, fashions a funny Indian accent, his gaucheness is a miraculous laughter-inducer, against his self-aware diffidence, he is an exemplary comedian, a bona-fide humorist, who is too good to debase himself into raunchiness, no vulgar toilet jokes, instead his pee-holding antics producing one of the optimal funny moments inside a toilet. Edwards' long-time collaborator Henry Mancini scores an entertaining big band soundtrack, where the theme song NOTHING TO LOSE sung by Monet in the film is agreeably catchy. It is difficult to me to claim this is the best comedy of its time, as evidently Edwards lets it loose a bit near the end, all sensational but also indolent in its development, the whole farce evolves into a revelry, without considerable moderation when a painted elephant walks into the foreground, finally as if all the ballyhoo only makes a contribution to en-kindle a budding romance between Hrundi and Michele, we never get a punch-drunk final blow the film seems to promise with its pungent irony, in spite of all its distinctive merits and innovative comic bravura