Meanwhile, in America, we as a nation seem to have forgotten how immensely important and huge an entertainer he was to our country and our individual spirits, especially from the post-WWII era with partner Dean Martin on through the 1960s as a solo superstar. He was a tour de force in nightclubs, on concert stages, in films, and on network radio and television. He was even a chart-topping recording artist, reportedly beating crooner Martin to the heights.
During his monumental career at Paramount Pictures (1949-65), he was Hollywood's Number One movie figure. On average, he headlined (and sometimes produced, wrote, and/or directed) two films per year for the studio and not one was a commercial flop. There was no other actor who could make that claim. This success would not have happened if the man lacked genial talents or failed to deliver the goods, and certainly if he were not sweepingly beloved.
And don't get me started on those despicable, two-faced members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences for their continued, arrogant snub of Jerry Lewis for his body of iconic cinematic comedies. Oscar has also failed to present him a Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award for his unparalleled charitable devotion, helping to advance medical knowledge and care, thus reducing the blight of human suffering and loss, allowing dystrophic children and adults to live better lives.
Well, I remember the exhilarating high hilarity. I'm still laughing after 50 years of following Jerry Lewis and his amazing career from the diminishing fog of my earliest memories until today and beyond. Tonight, I will toast Jerry on his birthday by rerunning the 1961 hit, The Errand Boy for the jillionth time. This one, partially in pantomime like his previous successes, The Bellboy, Cinderfella, and The Ladies' Man, is a zany movie-making farce about an inept paperhanger who inadvertently bungles his way into becoming Paramutual Studios' top star.
At my house, the picture is known as The Morty S. Tashman Story, after Jerry's character. I've been meaning to show this one to my five-year-old, who will most assuredly crawl onto my lap as soon as I settle in for the viewing pleasure. That lovely child -- or, I guess I should say: that cat is our boy, Morty. ... Morty S. Tashman in full.
Thanks, Jerry. Happy birthday.
Mike Durrett, a lifelong cut-up, worked as a comedian in radio and independent films, and as a professional comedy writer for entertainment personalities before producing and writing About Humor as our Guide, starting in 1998. He publishes original humor on MikeDurrett.com and TheTopOneList.com. Click for more info on Humor Boy.