It's been a terrible weekend for entertainers, first we lose Bruce Forsyth and now we have lost Jerry Lewis at the age of 91.
Like Brucie, I have an awkward relationship with Jerry Lewis. As a kid who loved vintage comedy, I really enjoyed the comedy of Jerry Lewis. Being a fan of double acts like Abbott and Costello, Laurel and Hardy, Bing Crosby and Bob Hope and our own Morecambe and Wise, I was specifically a fan of his work with Dean Martin. However, tastes change from childhood to adulthood and, even in my teenage years, I began to find Lewis' shtick a little too full-on and a bit embarrassing. In the past twenty years I can name just two Lewis films I've repeatedly returned too; Scorsese's The King of Comedy and Peter Chelsom's Funny Bones. Tellingly, these were straighter affairs which played on his legend rather than afforded him the opportunity to be the comic he was.
But there's a child in me who is deeply saddened by his loss and I want to thank him for all the good times and the laughter.
Of course, now he has gone the big discussion is will we finally be able to see the film he so conclusively banned - his ill advised 1972's holocaust movie The Day The Clown Cried?