He arrived on the scene in the late 1940s, making his television debut with his partner Dean Martin on Ed Sullivan's Toast of the Town in 1948. At a time when the stresses of the post-war world had turned America into a nation of nervous conformists, Lewis took a maniacal delight in smashing conventions and expectations with broad physical humor and nonsensical gibberish.
Lewis and Martin were a marvelous team, especially in the early days working nightclubs together. Lewis was an anarchist, and Martin served himself up on a nightly basis as a straight man to be wrecked — the guitar to Lewis's Pete Townshend.
The movies tamed them to a degree then in 1956, split them apart. Lewis without Martin was a flywheel without a drive shaft. The Nutty Professor definitely had its moments, but the rest of his solo work was uneven at best. The telethons raised boatloads of money but boy, could they get maudlin.
As a teller of his own life story, Lewis was a consummate bullshit artist. His self-regard was legendary. But he was sui generis and his death is another light gone out.
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