For all of his personal flaws and divisive reputation over the years, Jerry Lewis was awfully funny and someone who more than earned his place within the comedic canon – and few films prove this better than The Ladies Man, in which the iconic comedian not only stars but also writes and directs, telling the story of Herbert H. Heebert. This down-on-his-luck college graduate swears off women after having his heart broken, and in an effort to take his mind off the fairer sex applies for a job as a houseboy in a sprawling mansion owned by a retired opera singer. What he doesn’t realize is that this is a boarding house that serves as lodging for dozens of young women, each one of them being drawn to the feeble and meek Herbert, who they find irresistible, much to his immense chagrin, leading to a series of hilarious misadventures as our hero attempts to evade their advances and simply get through a single day of work without chaos ensuing. Commonly cited as the best film that Lewis made in his long and illustrious career (a daring statement but one that becomes immediately easy to support the moment we step foot inside the world of this film), The Ladies Man is an absolute masterpiece – a well-crafted, outrageously funny comedy with bold ideas and the skill to follow through on all of them, which is a signal of not only Lewis’ remarkable skills as a filmmaker but his ability to create such vibrant, compelling images and ideas that support them, defining himself as an essential voice in comedy that hardly received the credit he deserved for essentially assisting in laying the foundation for contemporary humour, inspiring many generations of performers and directors to attempt even an ounce of his ingenuity and brilliance. A defining work in 1960s cinema, and a film that has only aged better with time, being as fresh and inventive today as it was when it was released, The Ladies Man is a tremendously entertaining, off-the-wall romp that consolidates everyone involved firmly within the annals of film history, where they will continue to entertain and enthral for as long as this film exists.

Some performers are simply too magnetic to lend themselves to coherent descriptions and usually tend to be defined more by the emotions evoked when seeing them work than any other quality. In the case of Lewis, his entire reputation was built on the fact that despite being a more reserved individual behind the scenes, he cultivated an on-screen persona that would often shift (so he was never aiming to be in the same mould as the likes of Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton, in which they often played derivatives of the same character), but rather anchoring them within a few common sensibilities while still allowing them to flourish on their terms, which lead to an astonishing number of exceptional performances over the years, each one bespoke while still being quite recognizable. The Ladies Man is the best embodiment of the “Jerry Lewis archetype” – the shrill, vaguely childish oddball with a heart of gold and a vacant skull who would often find himself in precarious situations against his intentions. It’s also one of his very best performances – an outrageously funny depiction of a character who means well but cannot help getting himself in trouble, a tendency only matched by his resourcefulness to get him out of those perilous scenarios with nothing more than a few bruises and an abundance of beratings. He was a radical performer in every sense of the word, and The Ladies Man perfectly encompasses everything that represents his iconoclastic career. His performance is the anchor that drives this entire film forward and makes it such a radical piece of cinema, and we have to acknowledge the strengths of his work throughout this film, which is far more nuanced and compelling than we would initially anticipate based on a cursory glance at the material, which we may not imagine covertly houses one of the most incredibly captivating comedic performances of its era – but there’s seemingly nothing that Lewis enjoyed more than the act of taking audiences by surprise whenever he had the opportunity.

The idea of Lewis’ work is merely the ramblings of an old-fashioned ham, while true to an extent, is only a surface-level reading of his films, especially since he was one of the formative voices when it came to exploring certain subjects, many of which tended to be far from the mainstream at the time. Based on the title and premise, it’s clear what The Ladies Man was intent on exploring, and considering it took place at the very start of the 1960s when society stood on the threshold of the second wave of feminism, it is easy to misinterpret the film as some outdated statement on the battle of the sexes when in reality it’s one of the most covertly subversive and daring works on the subject of gender produced at the time. No one expected Lewis of all people to be someone who uses his voice to explore the sometimes broad differences between social expectations of men and women, and even if it was not entirely intentional, we find that The Ladies Man is secretly very subversive, looking at gender issues at a time when it was still a contentious issue in many ways. The idea of the most unappealing, lacklustre milquetoast finding himself in a boarding house overrun by women that view him as the definition of a lothario is a very funny concept in theory, but one that needed a much more profound foundation on which to build its ideas – and there’s certainly no shortage of that here, as Lewis infuses every scene with a sincerity that often intermingles with the off-the-wall humour to create something oddly touching and genuinely quite revolutionary, making some bold assertions that he nonetheless manages to support through finding the nuances in between the madness that punctuates this film and makes it such an incredibly compelling work that touches on themes that were far ahead of their time, but still somehow the foundation for something truly extraordinary and deeply captivating, while never sacrificing the humour by any means, which only makes it more endearing.

As much as we can scramble to piece together the discourse surrounding how it represents gender issues, it’s not nearly as impressive as the actual construction of the film itself, which is where Lewis truly showcases his talents. He may be hilarious in the central role, but the main attraction of this film is most certainly his approach to telling the story, which he does through borderline revolutionary techniques. The Ladies Man takes place primarily in a single location, the sprawling mansion of a rich dowager and her dozens of residents, and Lewis recognises the potential to do something extremely special with this premise. He works with production designers to create this incredibly detailed set that consists of multiple levels and seemingly an infinite number of rooms, which is used as the foundation for some of the film’s most hilarious and outrageous moments, carefully pieced together to create something quite daring. Much like Jacques Tati’s masterful Playtime, which also made exceptional use of space as a facilitator for outrageous comedy, Lewis draws on the set to tell its own story, and the techniques he employs to capture the madcap energy that exudes from every nook and cranny is worth praise all on its own. The Ladies Man is a true comedic spectacle in every sense of the word, being driven by a very specific kind of comedic chaos that Lewis inserts into every scene. The film is outrageous from the very start, and keeps that exact momentum for the subsequent 90 minutes, only momentarily stalling for the occasional leap into the more sentimental side of the narrative, which may cause it to slightly stutter, but remains important in giving it some context, since without some kind of structure, it would be nothing more than a series of hilarious vignettes without any real substance. We don’t often speak to Lewis’ incredible skills as a director, since most of the focus is on his performances, but every aspect of The Ladies Man is perfectly crafted and indicates his superb skills as a filmmaker.

The term “genius” is thrown around too liberally, and it is commonly used to describe just about anyone who possesses even an iota of artistic talent and the slightest sense of subversion. Yet, Lewis is someone I am more than confident in saying has earned the title since no one has been able to capture the spirit of rebellion that informed his work quite like him. The Ladies Man is his absolute masterpiece and could be a contender for the greatest comedy ever made for several different reasons. The structure is inventive and daring, with layers of unique humour that slowly and gradually unravel to form something deeper and much more profound, without sacrificing even a moment of unhinged comedy in the process. Lewis’s performance is astonishing (and we haven’t even mentioned the supporting cast – Kathleen Freeman and Helen Traubel are absolute riots as the pernickety housekeeper and the wealthy widow who bankrolls several extravagant luxuries, and cameos from George Raft and Buddy Lester lend themselves to some of the film’s most landmark moments), and is filled with nuances that may be surprising to even his most ardent of devotees. The Ladies Man is an exceptional, entertaining film that proves to be exquisitely crafted in every aspect of the narrative, having a sincerity and pathos that we may not anticipate at first, but which fits perfectly into the narrative in unexpected ways. Lewis continues to undergo a critical re-appraisal, and The Ladies Man is the quintessential exemplification of his incredible skills, and will likely continue to be seen as his absolute masterpiece, and is certainly the most worthy film to carry that status for both its concept and incredible execution.