The King of Comedy

Jerry Lewis is gone at 91. All I ever knew about him was watching him on TV (and his Muscular Dystrophy telethons) and movies as a zany, silly comedian and a master of pratfalls.

He teamed with crooner Dean Martin in the 1940s for a series of popular comedy films until a legendary split only to have Frank Sinatra reunite them decades later in an emotional scene.  He grew into a director and producer of his films (not all were good or funny especially in the later years) and an interesting thing developed at the peak of his career; he found poignant moments for his characters that would tug at your heart. Yes, I shed a tear when Jerry bonded with a Japanese boy in the Geisha Boy, or when he is befriended by a talking puppet in The Errand Boy, and who could forget the moment of truth in The Nutty Professor? No wonder he was revered by French critics who saw past his slapstick, and his brand of humor influenced superstars like Jim Carrey and Jerry Seinfeld.

A young Steven Spielberg took film classes from him, and Martin Scorsese cast him brilliantly in The King of Comedy as a character not far removed from his real life persona.  One of the last stars from Hollywood’s Golden Era, he received the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award at the Oscars.

For me, he was at his best when he would execute a cartoonish sight gag like any number of scenes from The Patsy, Cinderfella, and especially Who’s Minding the Store (which includes the classic ‘Typewriter’ skit.)

He was not everyone’s cup of tea with his lunacy nor his personality, but for those who laughed out loud at his manic expressions and situations, and later moved by his pathos, he was truly the king of comedy.