By
Ed Garea
I’ve
never known anyone who was neutral when it came to Jerry Lewis. One
either loved him or hated him; there was no middle ground for a man
who, over the years, had become a household name.
Lewis
died at his home in Las Vegas August 20 at the age of 91.
Born
Jerome Levitch on March 16, 1926, into a family of entertainers, he
began performing at the age of 5 with his parents. Father Daniel was
a song-and-dance man and mother Rae (nee Rachel Brodsky)
played piano for a radio station when not accompanying her husband.
They played in vaudeville and at various resorts under the names of
Danny and Rae Lewis. Because they were often on the road, young Jerry
was often left in the care of Rae’s mother. In his
autobiography, Jerry Lewis: In Person, he attributed his
aspiration and need to be on stage to the loneliness brought on by
his parents’ frequent and long absences.
When
it came to school he was indifferent, more interested in performing
in school shows than in his classes. When his parents landed a gig at
the Hotel Arthur in Lakewood, N.J., in the winter of 1938-39, they
took their son along. Left to his own devices when his parents were
rehearsing or performing, formed a comedy act with the daughter of
the hotel’s owners in which they exaggeratedly mimed the lyrics to
popular songs.
Now
that he was making a living in the world of entertainment, he took
the professional name of Joey Lewis. In his autobiography he said he
changed his first name to Jerry in order to avoid any confusion with
the established stand-up comedian Joe E. Lewis and boxer Joe Louis.
Whatever interest he had left in school vanished and at the age of 16
he dropped out of the 10th grade. He began performing his
lip-synching act as a solo, first at movie theaters between shows and
later in vaudeville and the lower echelon of burlesque clubs. He took
notice of his fellow comics and began to add bits of physical comedy
to the exaggerations he already employed in his act, including
mimicking various musical instruments in addition to lip-synching.
Classified
4-F by the army due to a heart murmur, he continued touring with his
act. While performing at Detroit’s Downtown Theater in 1944 he met
Patti Palmer (nee Esther Grace Calonico), a 23-year-old singer with
Ted Fio Rito. They began dating and on October 3, 1944, they
married.
In
1945, Lewis was performing at the Glass Hat nightclub in Manhattan
when he made the acquaintance of Dean Martin, a young crooner from
Steubenville, Ohio. As they began talking they agreed their
individual prospects were less than promising. At the time Jerry was
dressing as Carmen Miranda, lip-synching her songs in his act and
Martin was a singer moving farther and farther down the bill. Lewis
admired Martin’s persona of the handsome and self-assured cool cat,
while Martin admired Jerry’s talent for physical comedy.
In
March 1946, they found themselves once again on the same bill, this
time at the Havana-Madrid nightclub in Manhattan. Agreeing that
nothing had changed since they last met they decided that they could
at least have a little fun and began holding impromptu sessions after
the evening’s last show, during the course of which Jerry would
cavort around as an inept busboy, dropping tray, throwing food and
desperately trying to break the cool demeanor of Martin, who ignored
the disruptions as he sang. A reviewer for Billboard magazine.
gave them a rave writeup, noting that the act had the makings of a
big success.
Later
that summer, while performing at Atlantic City’s 500 Club, Lewis
was informed that the singer on the program had quit. He quickly
recommended Martin to the club’s owner, and they put together a
routine based on their antics at the Havana-Madrid. It became so
successful that, before the week was over, they were drawing sellout
audiences and even receiving mentions in Broadway columns. They
returned to the Havana-Madrid in September with an act that was
wildly popular.
Bookings
at bigger and better clubs soon followed, and by the summer of 1948,
not only were they were headlining at the Copacabana in Manhattan,
they were also performing at Times Square’s 6,000-seat Roxy
Theater.
They
spent the next two years refining their act with NBC signing them for
their own radio show on its Red Network. On June 20, 1948, they made
their first television appearance on CBS’s Toast of the
Town variety show (later re-christened The Ed
Sullivan Show). They were a unique tonic for an America worn down
by four years of war that were now replaced by the tension of the
Cold War. Whereas other comic teams relied on planned skits, Martin
and Lewis fed off an improvised interaction. Audiences could just sit
back and relax with an act whose unique chemistry felt new every time
it appeared.
One
member of that audience was producer Hal Wallis, who signed them to a
five-year contract with Paramount. Looking for a suitable vehicle for
their first movie, Wallis decided on a low-budget project based on
the popular radio show, My Friend Irma. The film
starred Marie Wilson, who reprised her radio role as the
scatterbrained Irma Peterson, with Diana Lynn steeping into the role
of Irma’s level-headed roommate, Jane Stacey. Martin and Lewis were
cast in supporting roles as Steve Laird and his partner Seymour, who
befriend Irma and Jane. The film did so well it spawned a sequel, My
Friend Irma Goes West (1950). That same year saw them in a
stint as the first of a series of hosts of NBC’s popular show, The
Colgate Comedy Hour.
Using
a loophole in their Paramount contract that allowed them to make one
film a year “outside” the studio, the duo starred in the military
spoof, At War With the Army (1951). The film created
the formula for the relationship that would continue through all 13
subsequent Martin and Lewis films: Dean, the smooth-operating ladies’
man, forms an unlikely friendship with the hapless Lewis. The
friendship is tested over the course of the movie, but in the end
they would prevail with the friendship stronger than ever.
At
War With the Army was another box office hit and was
followed by That’s My Boy (1951), The
Stooge (1953), Sailor Beware (1952), Jumping
Jacks (1952) and The Caddy (1953), original
productions with such writers as John Grant, Robert Lees, Frederic I.
Rinaldo (who wrote for Abbott & Costello) and Elwood Ullmann (who
wrote for the Three Stooges and the Bowery Boys) supplying the plots
and jokes. In 1953, they starred in Scared Stiff, a
remake of Paramount’s earlier The Ghost Breakers (1940),
starring Bob Hope. Living It Up (1954) was a remake
of the 1937 Carole Lombard screwball comedy, Nothing Sacred,
and You’re Never Too Young (1955) was a remake
of The Major and the Minor (1942). It didn’t
matter – they were all hits.
Frank
Tashlin took over the director’s chair for Artists and
Models (1955) and Hollywood or Bust (1956).
A writer-director who first made a name for himself at Warner Bros.
directing Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck and Porky Pig cartoons, he viewed
Lewis as a perfect compliment for his style. Together they created
sight gags that stretched the limits of absurdity, but ultimately
failed in their quest to create a live-action alternative to
animation. Tashlin also became a mentor to Lewis, who was becoming
more interested with filmmaking. Although their partnership was
successful for both, it came at the expense of Martin, who found
himself shuttled off into a corner as his roles in their films
diminished.
Martin
resented this treatment voicing his dissatisfaction in interviews
where he spoke of reviving his solo singing career. This in turn
angered Lewis, who felt Martin was betraying him. Rumors of a split
surfaced during the filming of Pardners (1956), a
remake of director Norman Taurog’s 1936 production, Rhythm
on the Range, starring Bing Crosby and Frances Farmer. Though the
pair denied the rumors, by the time filming began on Hollywood
or Bust they were barely on speaking terms. They made a
final appearance at the Copacabana on July 25, 1956, and then went
their separate ways.
Lewis
benefitted immediately, with his recording of “Rock-a-Bye Your Baby
With a Dixie Melody” becoming a Top 10 hit and its accompanying
album, Jerry Lewis Just Sings, reaching the No. 3 slot on
Billboard’s charts, outselling anything Martin had released.
He
returned to movies with The Delicate Delinquent (1957),
signed for a series of personal appearances along with a contract for
a series of specials with NBC in addition to renewing his
relationship with the Muscular Dystrophy Association by hosting a
19-hour telethon.
Tashlin
directed three more comedies, Rock-a-Bye
Baby (1958), The Geisha Boy (1958)
and Cinderfella (1960), before Lewis felt ready to
both produce and direct. His first film in that new role was The
Bellboy (1960), a homage to silent-film comedy with Lewis as
a luckless bellboy working at Miami Beach’s Fontainebleau Hotel.
Lewis
cranked out five more hit films during the next five years,
including The Ladies Man (1961), The Errand
Boy (1961) and one that became his personal favorite, The
Nutty Professor (1963), a wild variation on Dr. Jekyll
and Mr. Hyde. As painfully shy chemistry professor Julius
Kelp, Lewis creates a formula that turns him into Buddy Love, a
swaggering egotistical nightclub singer based spitefully on Dean
Martin. But although it was a hit, by 1967 Lewis’ momentum had
begun to fade. An attempt to switch to a more mature style with Three
on a Couch (1966), failed and caused him to revert more to
form with The Big Mouth (1967) and the World
War II farce Which Way to the Front? (1970), but
neither set the box office on fire.
In
looking for the reason for his declining popularity, Lewis failed to
search himself. Over the course of the ‘60s he has come to take
himself too seriously, projecting an image as an intellectual during
various appearances on television. A large part of this was due to
the fact that the French has come to embrace him as a serious auteur
whose films questioned and challenged the cultural status quo of
America and Hollywood. To quote film historian David Thomson
in The New Biographical Dictionary of Film (6th
edition), “Few things are held against the whole of France more
fiercely than French love of Lewis.” He had now become a relic, his
style of comedy being seen as passe in a Hollywood
now dominated by the likes of The Graduate, Easy
Rider and MASH. He hit both a personal and
professional nadir when The Day the Clown Cried, a
presumptuous comedy-drama set in a Nazi concentration camp that he
wrote, directed and starred in, collapsed under the weight of
litigation in 1972. Combined with an addiction to the pain killer
Percodan, Lewis took an eight-year hiatus from the world of
filmmaking.
But it’s hard to
keep an auteur down. Lewis returned to films with Hardly
Working as an unemployed circus clown who finds fulfillment
in an unexciting job with the post office. Released in Europe in 1980
and in the United States in 1981, Roger Ebert noted it was “one of
the worst movies ever to achieve commercial release in this country.”
His 1983
follow-up, Smorgasbord (aka Cracking Up),
also misfired. It was the last time Lewis directed a feature film.
However, his decline as a filmmaker was matched by a revival of
popularity as an actor, mostly thanks to his performance in Martin
Scorsese’s 1982 The King of Comedy as a talk-show
host kidnapped by an aspiring comedian (Robert De Niro) desperate to
become a celebrity. He also had a celebrated guest role as a garment
manufacturer threatened by the mob in the television
series Wiseguy (1988-89) in addition to working in
independent productions. He later expanded his acting ambition to the
stage, played Mr. Applegate (a.k.a. the Devil) in a Broadway revival
of the musical Damn Yankees. He later took the show on an
international tour.
Despite a series of
serious ailments, including bouts with prostate cancer, pulmonary
fibrosis and two heart attacks, Lewis continued his charity work with
the Muscular Dystrophy Association, continuing a tradition he began
in 1966 of hosting the association’s annual Labor Day weekend
telethon. Over his 40-plus years as host he raised more than $2
billion for the charity.
Lewis also learned
the meaning of the old adage that charity begins at home by
reconciling with estranged partner Dean Martin. The two had not
spoken since their 1956 break-up,. Even Frank Sinatra failed to break
the ice when, in one of the more memorable moments of the MD telethon
in 1976 he staged an on-air reunion between Lewis and Martin.
Although they tried to joke with one another, the visible discomfort
of both men was obvious to all who watched at home.
The hatchet was
finally buried when Lewis attended the funeral of Martin’s oldest
son, Dean Paul Martin Jr., who had been killed in a crash while
serving as a pilot in the California Air National Guard. They began
speaking again, and would do so occasionally until Martin’s death
in 1995. In 2005, Mr. Lewis collaborated with James Kaplan on the
memoir Dean and Me (A Love Story), in which he placed
most of the blame for the breakup with Martin on himself.
Although Lewis was
never honored for his film work by never honored, he was awarded the
Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award for his charitable activity in 2009.
Other honors include two stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame – one
for his movie work, the other for television – and a 2006 induction
by the French government into the Légion d’Honneur.
In 2013, Lewis was
honored at the Cannes Film Festival. A preliminary cut of Max
Rose, his first movie in nearly 20 years, was screened there, in
which he starred as a recently widowed jazz pianist in search of
answers about his past. In 2015, Lewis donated his personal archives
to the Library of Congress, and was quoted as saying that “Knowing
that the Library of Congress was interested in acquiring my life’s
work was one of the biggest thrills of my life.”
On the personal
side, Lewis had six children with wife Patti. They divorced in 1980.
In 1983, Mr. Lewis married SanDee Pitnick, and in 1992 their
daughter, Danielle Sara, was born.
His oldest son,
Gary, had a series of hit records in the ‘60s with his band Gary
Lewis and the Playboys.
Trivia
While most sources,
including Lewis’ 1982 autobiography Jerry Lewis: In Person,
give his birth name as Joseph Levitch, Shawn Levy, who wrote the
definitive biography of Lewis, King of Comedy: The Life and
Art of Jerry Lewis, located a birth record that listed his first
name as Jerome.
In 1952, with Martin
and Lewis at the height of their fame, a Lewis look-a-like comic
named Sammy Petrillo teamed with a Dean Martin sound-a-like singer
named Duke Mitchell. They played various clubs and even starred in a
movie, an atrocious low-budget effort titled Bela Lugosi
Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla (1952). When Lewis was informed of
the duo he successfully sued to stop their act, after which they
broke up. Petrillo continued as a comic, working such dives as strip
joints and burlesque theaters. He later successfully ran a comedy
nightclub in Pittsburgh called The Nut House, where he gave both
Richard Pryor and Dennis Miller their starts. Petrillo succumbed to
cancer on August 15, 2009. Duke Mitchell died from lung cancer at the
age of 55 on December 2, 1981.
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