There has never been someone like Jerry Lewis, someone whose contributions to the world of entertainment are so immense, he is often viewed as one of the pioneers of modern American humour, a figure that helped bring to life a very specific kind of storytelling that was built on the collision of many different styles. A comedic force of nature, Lewis spent over half a decade making wildly entertaining films, formally quite daring and striking enough in terms of their stories (or lack thereof) that we were consistently kept engaged and entertained, regardless of the content. His first effort as a director was The Bellboy, a very simple comedy film that employed all of the qualities we have come to expect and adore from Lewis – a simple narrative approach, a very clear direction in which it wanted to move, and (perhaps most importantly), a never-ending barrage of jokes, delivered through both the spoken and visual channels, which make it one of the most daring comedies of its era. Told in a series of around three dozen short vignettes, The Bellboy follows Lewis’ character, a happy-go-lucky bellboy at a major hotel who has to endure demanding guests, pernickety colleagues and a lot of hilarious misadventures as he tries to get through his day. The film presents several hilarious sketches in which we see Stanley (apparently named to honour Stan Laurel, who Lewis cited as so much of an influence, there’s even a recurring appearance of an imitator of the esteemed comedian that appears at different parts of the film) trying to do his job, but consistently finding himself in precarious situations that threaten everything, from his job to his safety. Hilarious and endearing in a way that can sometimes be surprising to those who weren’t quite sure what to expect, The Bellboy is one of Lewis’ masterpieces, not an assertion that is easily said about one of the greatest comedic minds of his generation.

As a culture, we have seemingly outgrown Lewis in terms of his style of comedy – it’s undeniably still appreciated by those who either grew up with his humour or encountered it at some point during our formative years. As a result, it can sometimes be surprising to see just how well his humour stands up, and it has oddly withstood the test of time better than we may have expected. The Bellboy is the perfect reminder of just how funny he could be when his effort matched the material with which he was working. Lewis was simply just a brilliant screen presence – he was blessed with the gift of a wonderfully elastic face, which he would constantly contort and twist into the most hilariously grotesque and outrageous expressions, enough to make his physical humour at least on par with the comedians from the silent era that meant a lot to him in his formative years when he was developing his use of comedy. His iconic voice is not present for most of the film, outside of one vignette where he plays himself (albeit as completely straight and serious, much closer to his off-screen persona than many may expect), and in the delightful final moments where we get the satisfaction of hearing the character finally talk, delivering one of the most endearing conclusions to a comedy from this era. Not someone known for his humility, Lewis knew he was outrageously funny and could capture the attention of just about any viewer, so he puts every skill he has on display throughout this film, which is one of the great starring vehicles for a comedian at the time. Perhaps the fact that he directed the film gives off the sense of showboating, but when you are as endlessly talented as Lewis and are willing to play a character in which almost all of the humour is built from a very carefully cultivated persona of being deeply idiotic, its difficult to not be both inspired and entertained by his wonderful antics.

Simplicity is the greatest ally to comedy since while he can appreciate humour that feels cutting-edge and unique, there’s value in a premise that doesn’t rely on high-concept storytelling, and instead focuses on the fundamental elements of what makes us laugh, which may differ as time progresses, but always remains very important when we look at the cultural importance of humour. We always tend to view comedy through a very specific lens of how much it adheres to modern sensibilities, and something that Lewis (and many of those who made comedies in the second half of the 20th century) realized is that nothing is funnier than a well-placed moment of silence, and The Bellboy is very much formed to adhere to this simple but effective principle. The character of Stanley is not mute in the same way that characters played by Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd, and the countless other great comedians that inspired Lewis were formed (where their lack of dialogue was both a practical choice based on the way films were made at the time, as well as character choices), but rather wants to talk, only consistently being interrupted on nearly every occasion when he tries to utter some kind of explanation that could clear up his frequent mishaps. The Bellboy, like many of Lewis’ films over the years, was designed to be a tribute to the silent era, particularly in how the vast majority of its humour came through visual humour. The film contains a constant stream of sight gags, each one a perfectly crafted moment of pure slapstick in which logic and reason are viewed as not only optional but somewhat unfavourable. Lewis bends everything, from the laws of physics to the very social structure of American culture, going in pursuit of a kind of daring humour that reveals something much deeper about not only comedy and how it functions, but how we consume entertainment, a quality that we find often simmering beneath the surface of many of his more revolutionary works, even those that seem as simple and unassuming as this film.

As with any form of comedy, analysing a film like The Bellboy entails trying to unpack the exact qualities that define it as a film, and how it makes us laugh. There’s something very timeless about this film – the setting itself is so familiar, with the operations of high-end hotels not changing much in the half-century since this film was made, meaning that anyone who has ever even vaguely encountered one of these establishments will be able to find the humour, despite some of the jokes (particularly those relating to social cues and conventions) being slightly dated. There’s also an inventiveness to the film – the brief introduction by the film’s “producer” indicates that it was deliberately designed to be complete without a narrative structure, and it quite proudly reminds us throughout that this is not a film with any kind of plot. Instead, it’s a series of individual vignettes in which the protagonist and his long-suffering colleagues try to get through what is a stressful, high-intensity job, with trouble lurking around every corner. The lack of a narrative only enrichens this aspect, since while we would normally expect such a film to weave these sight gags around a central premise, removing the latter leaves space for much more humour, and as we sometimes see with this very specific kind of narrative structure, the comedy can fester into something much more entertaining, without needing to worry about logic. Bordering on surrealism long before it was even viewed as a legitimate artistic discipline, The Bellboy uses its atmosphere, particularly in the constantly growing mood of tension and frustration, as a powerful comedic tool, facilitating some of the most genuinely off-the-wall comedy we are ever likely to see, leading to a film that curates the chaos into a constant flow of innovative comedy, which is fresh and enticing enough to thaw even the most cynical of viewers.

The most appropriate description of The Bellboy is that it is essentially 70 minutes of unhinged, unstoppable comedy, where even the brief pauses and blackouts between each vignette are filled with a kind of subtle humour. There isn’t a single moment (or even frame) of this film that doesn’t feel like it is filled to the brim with some kind of comedy, and while some may see this as being too overstuffed, especially since it’s only logical to believe that not everything can be funny, Lewis’ approach needs to be taken into account. Absolutely every joke lands, and he quite smartly attempts to cover a much wider landscape when it comes to the humour, oscillating between sight gags and clever wordplay (much of it coming on behalf of other characters as they interact with our protagonist), meaning that the humour is constantly changing in creative and meaningful ways, despite the apparent simplicity of the narrative. As a whole, The Bellboy is truly a lot of fun. An intricately woven, hilariously irreverent romp filled to the brim with an engaging kind of humour and a sense of genuine chaos that Lewis makes sure to showcase in a way that is bold and exuberant, but never hackneyed or too overly dense. The result is an outrageously funny film that starts out firing on all cylinders and stays that way throughout. Bold, audacious and genuinely brilliant from beginning to end, this is perhaps the quintessential Lewis vehicle, and all the proof one needs to not only understand his reputation but also appreciate and celebrate his boundless ingenuity on both sides of the camera.