After the Fox (1966)

After the Fox is a deliciously clever caper that turns filmmaking itself into the con, and that single inspired idea gives the movie its fizz from start to finish. Peter Sellers, under Vittorio De Sica’s light, knowing touch, darts through disguises and improvisations with the kind of comic momentum that makes you feel the movie is being invented in front of you—because, in a way, it is. The tone is breezy, satirical, and happily ridiculous, skewering celebrity worship and “serious” art-film pretensions while still delivering a genuinely entertaining crime romp. If you prefer your comedies grounded and your plots tidy, this one’s playful chaos may not be your flavor, but if you enjoy smart silliness with a showman’s sparkle, it’s an easy recommendation.

After the Fox wants to be a sly, showbiz-skewering caper, using a fake movie production as the perfect cover for a gold-smuggling scheme, and on paper that’s a terrific hook. In practice, it often plays like a string of half-finished comic bits: the satire wobbles between clever and self-indulgent, and the pacing can feel messy rather than madcap. Peter Sellers is game and there are flashes of inspired absurdity, plus some fun Roman/film-industry atmosphere, but don’t expect a tight heist comedy or consistent laugh rate. If you’re patient with shaggy 1960s farce and enjoy watching big personalities riff, you may have a decent time; if you want sharp, disciplined satire, this one may test your goodwill.