In the '50s and '60s you could take a Jerry Lewis movie to the bank, which Paramount and other studios delightedly did. Critically, Lewis was regarded by some people—most of them French—as a comedian on a par with Chaplin and Keaton, His last comedy, however, Which Way to the Front, was released more than 10 years ago. (His cherished serious film about a World War II concentration camp, The Day the Clown Cried, was shot in 1972 but never finished due to legal disputes.) The comic himself directed this independently financed comeback try about a clown who goes through a succession of odd jobs after his circus folds. Lewis is so willing to play for old laughs that the opening sequence is a montage of clips from his hits. Many children will enjoy this film. Lewis still has quick, deftly clumsy hands made for slapstick, and nobody is better at knocking over a pitcher of water on a stuffed shirt. But to adults this poky movie may seem a bit sad. Lewis' once-manic energy is barely suggested in a few labored outbursts, and his lovable bewilderment is now more like bitterness. What was endearing in an innocent youth is plain wretchedness in a man 55. Is there a more sophisticated, Pink Pantheresque comedy in Jerry Lewis the actor? It is a question, alas, that can't be answered by Jerry Lewis the director. (PG)
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