#being there

Chance is a gardener who was hit by a politician’s limousine, and ended up running for president. Not regarded as the smartest fellow around, his clear but general statements were often taken as deep metaphors by those around him, resulting in this all-too-prophetic monologue:

On the final day of filming "Being There" (1979), Peter Sellers arrived on set dressed in his character’s muted gray suit, holding the same remote control he used in the film’s first scene. Without saying a word, he turned to director Hal Ashby, pointed the remote at him, and clicked. The entire crew froze in silence before breaking into applause. Sellers had given them one last moment in character, one last bit of Chance the gardener.

Peter Sellers, known for his explosive energy in comedies like "Dr. Strangelove" (1964) and "The Pink Panther" (1963), turned in a performance in "Being There" (1979) that was startling in its restraint. His portrayal of Chance, a simple-minded gardener who had never left the confines of his employer’s Washington D.C. townhouse, demanded stillness, detachment, and blankness. Sellers delivered something unlike anything in his career, still, eerie, and deeply affecting.

The film opens with Chance quietly going about his gardening duties in an enclosed urban estate. He lives entirely within the walls of this world, absorbing reality only through television. When the elderly man he worked for dies, Chance is forced to leave the house for the first time in his life. Wearing his tailored suits and speaking with the slow clarity of TV hosts he watched for decades, he wanders into the streets of D.C. unaware of the world’s complexity.

A chance accident introduces him to Eve Rand, played by Shirley MacLaine. She believes Chance, who introduces himself as "Chance the gardener", is saying "Chauncey Gardiner", a name that soon becomes associated with mystery, poise, and profound wisdom. Eve brings him home to meet her husband, Benjamin Rand, played with commanding grace by Melvyn Douglas. Rand is a powerful and ailing industrialist who immediately believes Chance is a man of depth and insight. Chance’s vague gardening metaphors are mistaken for deep political commentary.

As Benjamin brings Chance into his inner circle, the President of the United States, portrayed by Jack Warden, seeks his advice. Chance’s slow, measured speech and simple observations about growth, seasons, and patience are interpreted as revolutionary political philosophy. He is soon being discussed as a future presidential candidate.

One of the most memorable scenes comes when Chance is interviewed on national television. He sits stiffly, responding with short, empty phrases about gardening, which the host and audience interpret as dazzlingly profound. This moment captures the film’s sharpest satirical edge, how easily image and media presence can be confused with intelligence or wisdom.

The screenplay, adapted from Jerzy Kosiński’s novel, was meticulously structured to allow the audience to remain one step ahead of the characters. Every character projects their own desires, needs, and hopes onto Chance. He is a blank slate, made powerful by the interpretations of those around him. Yet the film never ridicules Chance, it’s the world around him that invites the satire.

"Being There" (1979) is not only about mistaken identity, it is about the fragility of perception and the hunger of power to find meaning in silence. Director Hal Ashby’s calm and deliberate pacing, coupled with Johnny Mandel’s soft, jazzy score, enhances the film’s surreal tone. The visual framing constantly isolates Chance, even when he is surrounded by people, emphasizing how removed he is from the world that embraces him.

The ending scene stands apart in cinema history. Chance, unaware of his own myth, wanders across a private estate’s pond and slowly walks onto the water, not sinking. He stops in the middle, gazing around as if the laws of the universe do not apply to him. It is a moment that forces the audience to question everything they have seen and felt. Whether literal or symbolic, it captures the soul of the film, a world so eager to believe, it makes saints of strangers.

Peter Sellers called this his most important role, and it was. His complete disappearance into the quiet and enigmatic Chance was a final triumph before his death the following year. It is the quiet that speaks loudest in "Being There" (1979), and no one listens more than those desperate for meaning.