See No Evil, Hear No Evil (1989)

See No Evil, Hear No Evil (1989) is the third in a string of collaborative comedies between two of the most beloved comic actors of the 1970s and 1980s: Richard Pryor and Gene Wilder. Following the massive success of Silver Streak (1976) and the solid reception of Stir Crazy (1980), this film attempted to capitalize on their proven chemistry with a high-concept premise—two men, one blind and the other deaf, unwittingly caught in a murder and jewel-smuggling plot.

On paper, it’s a classic screwball setup: take two handicapped protagonists, put them in a situation of mistaken identity, and let chaos ensue. The result is a film that leans heavily on the comic stylings and improvisational energy of its stars rather than on narrative logic or nuanced scripting. While not as critically acclaimed as their earlier outings, See No Evil, Hear No Evil remains a cult favourite for many and showcases the enduring appeal of its central duo.

Plot Summary

Wally Karew (Richard Pryor) is blind but brimming with confidence and fast-talking charm. Dave Lyons (Gene Wilder) is deaf but highly intelligent and reserved. They meet when Wally applies for a job at Dave’s newsstand, and despite the obvious communication challenges, the two strike up an unlikely friendship.

Their peaceful routine is upended when a man is murdered right outside the shop. Wally, hearing the gunshots, and Dave, seeing the killer flee, become the prime witnesses—despite the fact that neither of them has a full grasp of what happened. They’re arrested, escape custody, and soon find themselves hunted by the police and by a pair of criminals (Joan Severance as the sultry assassin Eve, and Kevin Spacey in one of his earliest film roles as her snide accomplice).

The plot ultimately revolves around a missing coin that is actually a valuable microchip, part of an international smuggling operation. Dave and Wally must combine their limited senses to stay one step ahead, clear their names, and bring the real criminals to justice.

Performances

Richard Pryor as Wally

Pryor’s performance is a mix of rapid-fire banter and physical comedy. Playing a blind man, he avoids mawkishness, instead bringing his trademark swagger and wit to the role. His ability to convey Wally’s frustration, resilience, and ego—often in the same scene—adds depth to what could have easily been a one-note character.

Gene Wilder as Dave

Wilder, as the deaf half of the duo, plays with remarkable restraint. He resists caricature and instead leans into Dave’s intelligence and gentleness. Wilder’s forte has always been his ability to play the “straight man” with manic energy bubbling beneath the surface, and this role is no exception. His comic timing—especially in physical gags—is precise and heartfelt.

Supporting Cast

Joan Severance brings style and menace to her role, though her character feels underwritten. Kevin Spacey, in an early film appearance, hints at the dramatic intensity he would later become known for, though here he’s mostly playing foil to the leads.

Direction and Tone

Directed by Arthur Hiller (known for Love Story and The In-Laws), the film has a fast pace and a workmanlike style. Hiller knows how to frame his stars for maximum comedic impact, but the direction is often uninspired visually. Much of the film plays out in straightforward setups, letting the chemistry between Pryor and Wilder carry the narrative.

Tonally, the film oscillates between zany farce and action-comedy. There are chase scenes, slapstick brawls, and a few moments of sentimentality, but the humour is rarely mean-spirited. While the script (credited to multiple writers, including Wilder himself) is uneven, it provides a sturdy enough foundation for the stars to riff and improvise.

Strengths

Chemistry between Pryor and Wilder – The duo’s mutual affection and comic timing are the heart of the film. Their back-and-forth exchanges, especially when playing off their characters' disabilities, are often hilarious and surprisingly clever.

Conceptual novelty – The pairing of a blind man and a deaf man navigating danger creates opportunities for unique visual and verbal gags that few other films have explored.

Physical comedy – The film features several standout scenes of physical comedy, including a memorable barroom brawl and multiple moments of slapstick involving mistaken direction and miscommunication.

Weaknesses

Thin plot – The storyline involving a rare coin and international espionage feels like an afterthought. The villains are cartoonish, and the stakes never feel particularly urgent.

Repetitive gags – While the initial premise is clever, the film often recycles its central joke. After a while, the "one can’t see, one can’t hear" routine wears thin without enough variation.

Uneven tone – At times the film veers awkwardly between broad comedy and moments that seem to be aiming for pathos or suspense, resulting in a somewhat disjointed viewing experience.

Cultural and Historical Context

By 1989, both Pryor and Wilder were veterans of the comedy scene, though their careers were beginning to show signs of decline. Pryor, in particular, was struggling with health issues (including multiple sclerosis) and substance abuse. This film would be among his last major roles before his retirement from acting.

The movie was released during a time when buddy comedies were still popular, but the genre was beginning to evolve. See No Evil, Hear No Evil feels somewhat stuck in an earlier era of high-concept comedy, relying heavily on star power and physical humour rather than sharper satire or more intricate plotting.

Nevertheless, for fans of Pryor and Wilder, the film is a comforting, if uneven, reminder of their unique chemistry and the joy they brought to screen.

Legacy

Though not a critical darling upon release, the film has gained a cult following. It grossed over $46 million domestically—moderately successful—and remains a nostalgic favourite for many who grew up watching comedies of the 1980s and early '90s. It’s often cited as a final showcase of Wilder and Pryor's electric comedic rapport.

The movie also deserves credit for attempting (albeit comedically) to present characters with disabilities as capable and central to the narrative—something not often seen in mainstream Hollywood at the time, though it stops well short of realism or sensitivity.

Conclusion

See No Evil, Hear No Evil is far from a perfect film. It suffers from a flimsy plot and repetitive humour, and it pales in comparison to Silver Streak and Stir Crazy, the duo’s previous collaborations. But as a vehicle for Richard Pryor and Gene Wilder’s unique talents, it still delivers moments of genuine hilarity and charm.

If you approach it for what it is—a goofy, light-hearted comedy built around two comedic legends—you’ll likely find it an enjoyable, if flawed, ride. For fans of 1980s buddy comedies and for those who admire the craft of two of America’s funniest performers, it remains a worthwhile, if underrated, entry in their filmographies.