The following is
Thrilling Days of Yesteryear’s
contribution to the Classic TV Variety Show Blogathon, which is being hosted from February 3-5 by the Classic TV Blog Association. For a full list of participants and the shows covered, click here.
Though the title of Martin Scorsese’s 1983 serio-comedy The King of Comedy can be open to two interpretations—either the character by Robert De Niro (aspiring standup comic Rupert Pupkin) or Jerry Lewis (as talk show host Jerry Langford)—in the 1960s, it definitely applied to the latter of these two performers. Naysayers were certain that Lewis would not be able to continue his accomplishments in show bidness after his acrimonious split with longtime crooner-straight man Dean Martin in 1957, but the comic became even more successful (as did Dean, after bouncing back from the travesty known as Ten Thousand Bedrooms [1957]) with a string of popular box office vehicles that culminated with the film Lewis devotees consider his masterpiece, The Nutty Professor (1963). Before Professor,
When Jerry was still with Dean, the comedy duo wowed the
nation with their frequent appearances on TV’s The Colgate Comedy Hour
in the 1950s; many of the team’s fans believe that those showcases came closest
to duplicating the zany wildness that was their nightclub act. So Lewis was anxious to succeed as a solo
performer in TV…but alas, it wasn’t in the cards. The comedian, famous (or infamous, depending
on your point of view) for maintaining strict control over his films and other performance
outlets (Jerry was “King of All Media” years before Howard Stern swiped that
title), also held a tight rein on a show that ended up—in the politest phrasing
possible—a complete and total clusterfudge.
The associate producer of that series must have been named Murphy’s Law,
because on the technical side, anything that could did go wrong on opening
night…and subsequent installments could do little to save the sinking ship.
Jerry Lewis was also experiencing problems at the box office
as well. Much as the 1950s films of Bud
Abbott & Lou Costello had gradually started targeting kid audiences, so did
Jer’s feature output in the mid 60s—Lewis tried to jumpstart the interest of
adult fans with more mature movies (Boeing
Boeing, Three on a Couch, Way…Way Out), but to no avail. What’s more, the competitive Lewis had to be
rankled by the fact that his onetime partner was conquering primetime TV with
the mega-successful The Dean Martin Show…so in the fall of 1967, to television sets
that were not only featuring Martin but the variety shows of Ed Sullivan, the
Smothers Brothers, Jackie Gleason, Lawrence Welk and Red Skelton—as well as Rowan
& Martin’s Laugh-In, The Kraft Music Hall and The
Hollywood Palace—Jerry Lewis made his move. (The fall of 1967 would also see Danny Thomas
strike out with a variety hour, but usher in the success of Carol Burnett’s
program that would run on small screens for over a decade.)
In an interview at the Archive of American Television, director-producer
Bob Finkel takes credit for coming up with the idea that ultimately became the
second primetime Jerry Lewis Show.
Finkel’s account seems plausible—he mentions having worked with Martin
& Lewis during their Colgate Comedy Hour days—but it
starts to go off the rails with an anecdote in which he reveals that Jerry
relinquished creative control of the show to him. (Another interview with costume designer Ret
Turner disputes the “control,” saying Lewis was hands-on at all times and in every
aspect of the show…which knowing what I know about the comedian is far more
believable.) Regardless of whose story
you swallow, The Jerry Lewis Show premiered on September 12, 1967 in a Tuesday time slot at 8pm EST.
Though the program had a tough row to hoe in that most of its audience
deserted it at the half-hour mark to watch the seventh-ranked show in the
Nielsens, CBS’ The Red Skelton Hour, NBC brought it back for a second season
the following year, moving it up a half-hour to 7:30 . But Lewis’ show lost its I Dream of Jeannie
lead-in with that move, and found its butt kicked by the ABC series that put
ten pounds of hip in a five pound bag, The Mod Squad. Even plugs by Lewis’ old compadre Dean Martin
(whose own variety hour was snuggled in the Top Ten) couldn’t save it (though
in all fairness, Dino’s “Be sure to watch The Jerry Lewis Show this
week…’cause I know I will!” might not have been totally sincere), and The
Jerry Lewis Show vanished from the schedule.
Because it had been mostly unseen by the general public
since its sayonara at the end of the 1968-69 season, Lewis fans and other
curiosity seekers were excited at the news that Infinity Entertainment had
plans to release a collection of thirteen programs from the show in December of
2009. The warning signs should have been
apparent: the release date for the set was pushed up a few times, and after
seeing what the company did with such shows as The Real McCoys and Route
66 it shouldn’t have bode at all well…so when consumers got their hands on the
set when it hit the streets they got the bad news—the shows in the collection
were edited (and badly at that) twenty-three and a half minute versions of the
original hour telecasts (well, including commercials) much in the truncated way
that The
Carol Burnett Show (as Carol Burnett and Friends) and The
Tonight Show with Johnny Carson (Carson’s Comedy Classics) were cut
to ribbons for syndication. The shows
open with bad graphics, bad synthesizer music…and that grating laugh of Jerry’s
that makes you wonder why they would ever have to resort to torture—listening to
that on a loop for an hour or so would break anyone’s free will.
Let me give you an example of the night-and-day difference
between what’s on The Jerry Lewis Show: Collection and what you might find, say,
on the Internets. The December 5, 1967 telecast is available for viewing on YouTube, a show originally guest-starring Frank
Gorshin and the McGuire Sisters. The
McGuire stuff is fairly forgettable, but Gorshin does do some hilarious
impressions of celebrities like Marlon Brando, Anthony Quinn, Burt Lancaster,
etc. There’s also a comedy sketch in
which Jerry—in his “Sidney Portnoy” persona, a character he played often on the
show—arrives as a spooky old castle as a delivery boy for a fried chicken
fast-food joint and runs into both a mad scientist (Gorshin doing Karloff) and
a vampire (Gorshin doing Lugosi). It’s
as lame as it sounds, but anytime you have Gorshin doing two of my favorite
film personalities it can’t be all that bad.
Now, this show is included on the DVD
set…but contains mostly the Lewis-Gorshin skit, which also contains some
horrendous edits. There have been
multiple theories as to why these shows have not been presented in their
original format. The most plausible is
that the show was cut up for a possible syndicated series, given the cheesy
opening and godawful graphics. There’s
also credible speculation that the shows may not survive in their complete
hour-long form; a photo gallery included with the set has two pictures with
Jerry and Jack Webb…who, along with Harry Morgan, was guest star on a program
that apparently no longer exists (and the caption underneath the photo says
they will have to cobble together the program from existing foreign
kinescopes). A third theory posits that
the ever sticky wicket of copyrights might have reared its ugly head and
prevented musical numbers (including many with Jerry singing—though one could
argue this is not necessarily a terrible result) from being included. If you purchased a copy of this 2-disc set,
you have my sympathy at feeling like you were rooked (my copy was a Christmas
present, so there was no personal financial rooking on my part); if you look at
the listing on Amazon the collection is still listed at 640 minutes, which is a
complete crock.
So apparently the only way to experience what was once The
Jerry Lewis Show is either through this collection or random YouTube
sharings (Kliph Nesteroff at Classic Television Showbiz has a second season show up here, February 5, 1969, that features John Byner and the Osmond Brothers as guests; Byner
and Jerry do a funny "Governor of California" sketch and John does his Ed
Sullivan impression)—and it’s apparent that the DVD
release doesn’t really give you the full sense of the show. Much of your enjoyment of The
Jerry Lewis Show will depend on your personal opinion of Lewis himself;
it’s my personal belief that Lewis wasn’t quite the same after the breakup with
Dean Martin but I have had several people tell me I’m insane. The only real flaw in Lewis’ variety program
is that it was so very ordinary considering the person in charge—the best way
to describe it is it’s like watching one of the comedian’s MDA
telethons only it’s over and done with in fifty minutes. (Again…to many this will be a blessing and
not a curse.)
Lewis put together a veteran staff of writers to pen
mediocre sketches for his series—two of the more interesting names on his staff
were Bill Richmond, a longtime Lewis crony who co-wrote, among other Lewis
movie classics, The Nutty Professor
(he also turns up in some of the sketches) from time to time, and Ed Simmons,
who wrote for Martin & Lewis’ radio show back in the 1950s…with
then-partner Norman Lear. (Simmons later went to work for Carol Burnett,
winning a few Emmys in the process.) The
second season saw the addition of scribes like Honeymooners veteran Syd
Zelinka and the team of Gerald Gardner & Dee Caruso…and though it might be
because I’m biased (Gardner & Caruso wrote many scripts for The
Monkees and Get Smart) I think the writing improved a little in the second
season. (Then again, Gardner &
Caruso wrote the screenplay for Jerry’s Which
Way to the Front? so it could be those mushrooms kicking in.)
Whatever one’s personal opinion of the program—you can’t
deny that it wasn’t big-time variety at its most prevalent. The surviving sketches on the DVD
range from abominable to amusing—some of the people Jerry worked with,
particularly Nanette Fabray, seemed to be enjoying themselves (Nanette appears
in sketches from two separate shows—one in which she’s a policewoman who has to
deal with her kleptomaniac husband, the other in which she’s a newlywed who
discovers her presumed-dead husband is anything but; both feature Lewis in his “Professor
Julius Kelp” character…renamed “Professor Frobischer” for the TV version);
others are trapped in sketches so bad the only real laughs come from Jerry’s
ad-libs. (Audrey Meadows appears with
Jerry in a Bonnie and Clyde spoof
that is so unfunny Jerry remarks “Terrible!” at one point.) The highlights in the collection are a
sequence with character great Mike Mazurki as a bone-crunching lumberjack who’s
being given his marching orders by marshmallow Jerry, and a sketch in which
Jerry reworks the hilarious boxing sequences from Sailor Beware, assisted by Harold J. Stone (his nemesis in The Big Mouth) and Del Moore (The Nutty Professor).
You’ll also get the opportunity to see Jerry and Don Rickles
square off in a sketch (which also features Dorothy Provine) in which Rickles
can’t stop his perspiration (his reaction of his attempts to make out with
Dorothy—“The cobra strikes!”—is a real gut-buster, too) and both he and Lewis
can’t stop the ad-libs. Shirley Jones
guests in one edited show as the wife of Oriental detective Sam Leechee (played
by Lewis in his not-at-all-hilarious buck teeth) which will make you wince at
the insensitivity prevalent on TV at the time.
Other guests include Lynn Redgrave (who, in light of her famous feud
with Lewis during the stage production of Broadway flop Hellzapoppin’, is most interesting), Janet Leigh, Barbara Feldon,
Laurence Harvey and Joey Heatherton. (It
even sounds like the lineup for a Lewis telethon.)
With the cancellation of The Jerry Lewis Show in
1969, the comedian abandoned any future attempts to become a weekly variety
fixture in TV families’ homes, preferring to do a season’s worth of television
with his yearly MDA telethon that began in
1966 and ended in 2010 (the show didn’t end, just his participation because
they ran him off). (Though you could
make a strong argument that the telethon wasn’t quite the same when they
started pre-recording parts of it; some years Jerry really went on hilarious
rant rampages in the last hour due to sleep deprivation.) Die-hard Jerry Lewis fans will love The
Jerry Lewis Show (and if you’re interested in a copy of the DVD ,
I’ll sell you mine—I even have the collectors’ cards to go with it); others
will use it as just another reason to hate the French.
Fascinating post, Ivan. I was an avid TV watcher as a kid and enjoyed Jerry's films--but I don't recall ever watching his variety show. It may be simply that I was watching something else (RED SKELTON, yes; MOD SQUAD, no). It's ironic that Dean's variety show succeeded where Jerry's failed. Although Dean eventually had some bonafide non-Jerry hit films, he was usually paired with another star (e.g., John Wayne in THE SONS OF KATIE ELDER).
ReplyDeleteAn awesome read Ivan. My favorite Jerry Lewis performance is, The Nutty Professor (1963). I even have it in my DVD collection.
ReplyDeleteI was one of those people who watched the show, The Mod Squad. Sorry, Jerry Lewis fans..
Interesting...I'd forgotten about the second series entirely...it had to rankle also that after the failure of the first series that THE HOLLYWOOD PALACE was spun out of its ashes for several seasons, and that Martin was one of the hosts (most famously for the the Rolling Stones' appearance).
ReplyDeleteAgreed - a terrific piece. I have vague memories of the show, having been a Jerry Lewis fan as a kid (stood in line to see "The Disorderly Orderly in the theater, etc.), so I would have watched this regardless. It seems another example of not figuring out how to use a star's strengths. (Either that or Jerry wouldn't accept any ideas from anyone else!)
ReplyDeleteTo mix a reference, thanks for the memories!
Love that '10 pounds of hip in a 5-pound bag' -- gold, Jerry! I too was watching something else (probably Red, but maybe a little Linc and Peggy... Sounds like Jerry may have wanted all evidence buried with Richard the third. What a great DVD set for some K-tel ish company: pairing this Lewis stinker with that earlier Gleason crapper that made his Chef of the future come across as Como-esque in coolness (no, I'm not maligning the manna that is the Honeymooners... That is the gold standard of great.
ReplyDeleteAnother great post! I have to read more about the first episode of Lewis' show, I never knew there were so many technical errors, I thought it just fell flat with audiences.
ReplyDeleteStill laughing at calling Boeing, Boeing "mature;" that film is up there with The Maltese Bippy in my Pantheon Of Cinematic Loathing.
I thought Lewis was actually quite good in the handful of straight roles he did, with a special shout-out to a later role, that of Aging New York Garment District Kingpin Eli Sternberg in a half-dozen eps of "Wise Guy" in the late eighties.
ReplyDeleteI totally bought him as a weary but unbowed "mustache pete" of sorts who knew the business and knew what palms needed to be crossed and what legs need to be broken in a cutthroat industry.
Nice work by Lewis, and nice work by you too, Ivan.
WOW! Feel like I went to Jerry Lewis University. Great stuff! I've never even watched clips of Lewis' show, that I remember anyway, but would LOVE to see the ones with Gorshin and Fabray. I'm a big fan of both of those.
ReplyDeleteAurora
I hate hate hate DVD releases with cuts and edits. It is so frustrating. Thanks for sharing this piece.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great piece of writing. I haven't been a fan of Lewis' since I grew out of him in my teens. However, in my opinion, Dean Martin was the coolest of cool cats and Jerry Lewis always seemed sort of cold and conceited. I wonder if this could explain the TV success of Dino and the non-success of Lewis.
ReplyDelete