Back in 1972, Jerry Lewis’ schtick, if not his star, was losing its sparkle in the US. Audiences had had enough of The Nutty Professor – or at least, the slew of not-dissimilar Lewis-starring movies that had followed in its wake. Bereft of his longtime comedic partner Dean Martin, Lewis – the original multi-hyphenate –knew he had to do something different. What he opted for would stop everyone in their tracks.
Ten years had passed since he had optioned the screenplay for The Day the Clown Cried, about a German clown who must entertain kids before they are sent down to the Nazi gas chambers. As he admits here, as a proud Jew himself, he thought it was time to try his hand at something like this, a serious drama, or at least a part with serious dramatic overtones. Directing himself playing a clown sounded like standard Lewis fare. Shooting in Sweden and France, where he was worshipped as a master of the avant-garde, wouldn’t be too much of a stretch. He even declared on Dick Cavett’s US chat show that the Cannes Film Festival was expectantly waiting for a cut to world première there.
Get more Little White Lies
Unfortunately, as this doc reveals in painful detail, Lewis’ option on the original material had lapsed by the time shooting had commenced – and none of the producers had bothered to check or negotiate a renewal. A difficult shoot, with a cast ill-equipped to play Nazi officers, left Lewis drained. When one of the producers played up, and the money stopped, panic set in. Even a mad dash by Lewis personally, begging to renew the rights with its author, proved a disaster.
In a major coup, the doc blends rescued footage of the original film with revealing, contemporary insight with the surviving cast and crew – as well as Lewis supporters like Scorsese, Lewis himself (interviewed a year before his death) and Harry Shearer (one of the few to have watched a rough cut of the film, illicitly on VHS). Lewis was interviewed by French journalists about the project at the time of production as well, which makes for an intriguing look at the man and his process. It’s ostensibly a film about a flawed artistic vision – or is it? Lewis is hard on himself (claiming the film wasn’t good enough to finish). Others point to Roberto Benigni jumping over chairs at the Oscars, to pick up his statuette for Life is Beautiful some 15 years later, as proof that Lewis was simply ahead of his time. Then, there’s Mel Brooks, a seasoned pro at poking fun at the Nazis, who points out that there’s nothing remotely funny about the Holocaust, no matter how you try and frame it.
Interestingly, Lewis himself, who admits to being haunted by the project for the rest of his days, still believed one could find comedy in anything if you looked hard enough. It’s difficult to buy into that here. But the doc does make the case for the unfinished film to be screened in some way, if nothing else for Lewis’ own nuanced performance. Had he made his film in 1997, he may have wound up on that Academy Award stage after all.
