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Dean and Me: A Love Story

Dean and Me: A Love Story

4.1 38
by Jerry Lewis, James Kaplan, Gregory Jbara (Read by)

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They were the unlikeliest of pairs—a handsome crooner and a skinny monkey, an Italian from Steubenville, Ohio, and a Jew from Newark, N.J.. Before they teamed up, Dean Martin seemed destined for a mediocre career as a nightclub singer, and Jerry Lewis was dressing up as Carmen Miranda and miming records on stage. But the moment they got together, something


They were the unlikeliest of pairs—a handsome crooner and a skinny monkey, an Italian from Steubenville, Ohio, and a Jew from Newark, N.J.. Before they teamed up, Dean Martin seemed destined for a mediocre career as a nightclub singer, and Jerry Lewis was dressing up as Carmen Miranda and miming records on stage. But the moment they got together, something clicked—something miraculous—and audiences saw it at once.
Before long, they were as big as Elvis or the Beatles would be after them, creating hysteria wherever they went and grabbing an unprecedented hold over every entertainment outlet of the era: radio, television, movies, stage shows, and nightclubs. Martin and Lewis were a national craze, an American institution. The millions (and the women) flowed in, seemingly without end—and then, on July 24, 1956, ten years from the day when the two men joined forces, it all ended.
After that traumatic day, the two wouldn’t speak again for twenty years. And while both went on to forge triumphant individual careers—Martin as a movie and television star, recording artist, and nightclub luminary (and charter member of the Rat Pack); Lewis as the groundbreaking writer, producer, director, and star of a series of hugely successful movie comedies—their parting left a hole in the national psyche, as well as in each man’s heart.
In a memoir by turns moving, tragic, and hilarious, Jerry Lewis recounts with crystal clarity every step of a fifty-year friendship, from the springtime, 1945 afternoon when the two vibrant young performers destined to conquer the world together met on Broadway and Fifty-fourth Street, to their tragic final encounter in the 1990s, when Lewis and his wife ran into Dean Martin, a broken and haunted old man.
In Dean & Me, Jerry Lewis makes a convincing case for Dean Martin as one of the great—and most underrated—comic talents of our era. But what comes across most powerfully in this definitive memoir is the depth of love Lewis felt, and still feels, for his partner, and which his partner felt for him: truly a love to last for all time.

Editorial Reviews

Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis's run ended on July 25, 1956, exactly ten years after it began. During their decade-long partnership, they were the hottest act in television, nightclubs, and the movies. In fact, the Steubenville crooner and the madcap comic were the world's No. 1 box office earners during their last five years together. But offstage, things were not so happy. In this disarmingly candid memoir, Lewis abandons his bumptious persona to reflect seriously on his career and the historic partnership he helped destroy.
Stephanie Zackareck
This is a wild, joyous book, but also a heartbreaking one. In some ways, friendships between men can be more fragile than those between women, something Lewis grasps intuitively. What kind of guy laughs when you upstage his crooning with a piece of raw meat on a fork? Whoever he is, you'd better hang onto him: he's probably the best friend you'll ever have.
— The New York Times
Publishers Weekly
Over the course of their 10-year partnership, Lewis and Dean Martin made 16 wildly popular movies (they were the world's number one box office earners from 1950 to 1956), but their real strength was their performances in nightclubs, theaters and on television. Audiences found their mixture of music and ad-libbed, irreverent comedic pandemonium intoxicating. The duo's fascinating kinship-Lewis idolized his partner, while Martin was aloof-has been chronicled in Shawn Levy's King of Comedy and Nick Tosches's Dino, but Lewis wants to give his late partner the credit he feels critics missed by always praising the "the monkey" rather than the straight man. Untangling the complicated union, Lewis doesn't spare himself, admitting that when the team's relationship unraveled (they weren't speaking between scenes on their last film), he became a bully on set and made others the brunt of the anger he couldn't vent at Martin. Lewis is a wonderful raconteur, and his tales capture the excitement of their budding career and the slow, sad erosion of the fun. Whether it's his age (Lewis is 79) or his coauthor (Kaplan co-wrote John McEnroe's You Cannot Be Serious), fans will be surprised and entertained by Lewis's honesty and diminished ego and bitterness. Photos. First serial to Vanity Fair. (On sale Oct. 25) Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
Library Journal
With freelance journalist Kaplan, comic legend Lewis finally recounts his professional and personal relationship with his former show business partner, the late Dean Martin. This remarkably detailed yet fast-paced story ranges over the pair's meeting on Broadway and 54th Street in New York City to its acrimonious split ten years later. Through a series of anecdotes replete with unforgettable real-life characters, Lewis transports readers to the 1940s and 1950s, deftly mixing humor (both wholesome and raunchy), sentimentality, and brutal honesty. Lewis wisely focuses not on himself, but on Martin, who is depicted as a charming, intelligent, and remarkably talented man. Those seeking a more objective account of Martin and Lewis should look elsewhere; those interested in an intimate account of the long, strange relationship between these two gifted show business legends will be delighted. Recommended for all public libraries. [See Prepub Alert, LJ 6/1/05.]-Douglas King, Univ. of South Carolina Lib., Columbia Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
Tell-all memoirs of the tempestuous, sometimes tortured relationship between two personalities cast by fate and a whole bunch of money as comic and straight man. Give Lewis credit for selective candor, but what he reveals about himself in the process of telling his side of the Martin (1917-95) and Lewis story is often more trenchant than his conflicted report of what went wrong, and occasionally right, with the partnership that lasted a lime-lit ten years. While Lewis opens and closes with heartfelt admiration and-yes, at one point they do affirm it to one another-love for what he calls the best straight man ever to tread a stage, in this book's long interim, Martin's character suffers the death of a thousand condescensions. Even as Lewis starts by recalling their last, choked-up performance together in 1956 at New York's Copacabana, for example, he muses that while "truth was my greatest ally . . . Dean could lie if it would spare someone's feelings. I had difficulty with that." And from the beginning, it's the older Martin, in a "big brother" role Lewis conjures for himself, introducing the kid to hard liquor (although Martin's later boozy TV persona was a well-calculated act), mobsters, marijuana and, most of all, "other" women. Jerry eventually rationalizes philandering as just part of showbiz; he confesses they made the scene together with peaches-'n'-cream MGM actresses June Allyson and Gloria DeHaven (both married to Hollywood actors at the time) in what is described as an extended Manhattan shack-up. It's Martin's consistent insensitivities and ingratitude, often tinged with ridicule, that start to grind, however. He plays golf and reads comic books while Lewis deals withbusiness, etc., and at one point is a no-show at a charity commitment. Lewis blows up (he claims he initiated the split), and after a nasty onstage fall-solo-winds up gobbling Percodans. Jewish comic scorned-venting, revealing, regretting and maybe even meaning it.

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Random House Audio Publishing Group
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Read an Excerpt

Dean and Me

(A Love Story)
By Jerry Lewis James Kaplan


Copyright © 2005 Jerry Lewis and James Kaplan
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0-7679-2086-4

Chapter One

In the age of Truman, Eisenhower, and Joe McCarthy, we freed America. For ten years after World War II, Dean and I were not only the most successful show-business act in history-we were history.

You have to remember: Postwar America was a very buttoned-up nation. Radio shows were run by censors, Presidents wore hats, ladies wore girdles. We came straight out of the blue-nobody was expecting anything like Martin and Lewis. A sexy guy and a monkey is how some people saw us, but what we really were, in an age of Freudian self-realization, was the explosion of the show-business id.

Like Burns and Allen, Abbott and Costello, and Hope and Crosby, we were vaudevillians, stage performers who worked with an audience. But the difference between us and all the others is significant. They worked with a script. We exploded without one, the same way wiseguy kids do on a playground, or jazz musicians do when they're let loose. And the minute we started out in nightclubs, audiences went nuts for us. As Alan King told an interviewer a few years ago: "I have been in the business for fifty-five years, and I have never to this day seen an act get more laughs than Martin and Lewis. They didn't get laughs-it was pan-demonium. People knocked over tables."

Like so many entertainment explosions, we happened almost by accident.

* * *

It was a crisp March day in midtown Manhattan, March of 1945. I had just turned nineteen, and I was going to live forever. I could feel the bounce in my legs, the air in my lungs. World War II was rapidly draw-ing to a close, and New York was alive with excitement. Broadway was full of city smells-bus and taxi exhaust; roast peanuts and dirty-water hot dogs; and, most thrilling of all, the perfumes of beautiful women. Midtown was swarming with gorgeous gals! Secretaries, career girls, society broads with little pooches-they all paraded past, tick-tock, tick-tock, setting my heart racing every ten paces. I was a very young newly-wed, with a very pregnant wife back in Newark, but I had eyes, and I looked. And looked. And looked.

I was strolling south with my pal Sonny King, heading toward an appointment with an agent in Times Square. Sonny was an ex-prize-fighter from Brooklyn trying to make it as a singer, a knock-around guy, street-smart and quick with a joke-kind of like an early Tony Danza. He prided himself on his nice tenor voice and on knowing everybody who was anybody in show business. Not that his pride always matched up with reality. But that was Sonny, a bit of an operator. And me? I was a Jersey kid trying to make it as a comic. My act-are you ready for this?-was as follows: I would get up on stage and make funny faces while I lip-synched along to phonograph records. The professional term for what I did was dumb act, a phrase I didn't want to think about too much. In those days, it felt a little too much like a bad review.

You know good-bad? Good was that I was young and full of beans and ready to take on the world. Bad was that I had no idea on earth how I was going to accomplish this feat. And bad was also that I was just eking out a living, pulling down $110 a week in a good week, and there weren't that many good weeks. On this princely sum I had to pay my manager, Abner J. Greshler, plus the rent on the Newark apartment, plus feed two, about to be three. Plus wardrobe, candy bars, milk shakes, and phonograph records for the act. Plus my hotel bill. While I was working in New York, I stayed in the city, to be close to my jobs-when I had them-and to stick to where the action was. I'd been rooming at the Belmont Plaza, on Lexington and Forty-ninth, where I'd also been performing in the Glass Hat, a nightclub in the hotel. I got $135 a week and a room.

Suddenly, at Broadway and Fifty-fourth, Sonny spotted someone across the street: a tall, dark, and incredibly handsome man in a camel's-hair coat. His name, Sonny said, was Dean Martin. Just looking at him intimidated me: How does anybody get that handsome?

I smiled at the sight of him in that camel's-hair coat. Harry Horseshit, I thought. That was what we used to call a guy who thought he was smooth with the ladies. Anybody who wore a camel's-hair overcoat, with a camel's-hair belt and fake diamond cuff links, was automatically Harry Horseshit.

But this guy, I knew, was the real deal. He was standing with a shorter, older fellow, and when he saw Sonny, he waved us over. We crossed the street. I was amazed all over again when I saw how good-looking he was-long, rugged face; great profile; thick, dark brows and eyelashes. And a suntan in March! How'd he manage that? I could see he had kind of a twinkle as he talked to the older guy. Charisma is a word I would learn later. All I knew then was that I couldn't take my eyes off Sonny's pal.

"Hey, Dino!" Sonny said as we came up to them. "How ya doin', Lou?" he said to the older man.

Lou, it turned out, was Lou Perry, Dean's manager. He looked like a manager: short, thin-lipped, cool-eyed. Sonny introduced me, and Perry glanced at me without much interest. But Sonny looked excited. He turned to his camel-coated friend. "Dino," Sonny said, "I want you to meet a very funny kid, Jerry Lewis." Camel-Coat smiled warmly and put out his hand. I took it. It was a big hand, strong, but he didn't go overboard with the grip. I liked that. I liked him, instantly. And he looked genuinely glad to meet me.

"Kid," Sonny said-Sonny called me Kid the first time he ever met me, and he would still call me Kid in Vegas fifty years later-"this is Dean Martin. Sings even better than me."

That was Sonny, fun and games. Of course, he had zero idea that he was introducing me to one of the great comic talents of our time. I certainly had no idea of that, either-nor, for that matter, did Dean. At that moment, at the end of World War II, we were just two guys struggling to make it in show business, shaking hands on a busy Broadway street corner.

We made a little chitchat. "You workin'?" I asked.

He smiled that million-dollar smile. Now that I looked at him close up, I could see the faint outline of a healing surgical cut on the bridge of his nose. Some plastic surgeon had done great work. "Oh, this 'n' that, you know," Dean said. "I'm on WMCA radio, sustaining. No bucks, just room." He had a mellow, lazy voice, with a slightly Southern lilt to it. He sounded like he didn't have a care in the world, like he was knockin' 'em dead wherever he went. I believed it. Little did I know that he was hip-deep in debt to Perry and several other managers besides.

"How 'bout you?" Dean asked me.

I nodded, quickly. I suddenly wanted, very badly, to impress this man. "I'm just now finishing my eighth week at the Glass Hat," I said. "In the Belmont Plaza."

"Really? I live there," Dean said.

"At the Glass Hat?"

"No, at the Belmont. It's part of my radio deal."

Just at that moment, a beautiful brunette walked by, in a coat with a fur-trimmed collar. Dean lowered his eyelids slightly and flashed her that grin-and damned if she didn't smile right back! How come I never got that reaction? She gave him a lingering gaze over her shoulder as she passed, a clear invitation, and Dean shook his head, smiling his regrets.

"Look at this guy," Sonny said in his hoarse Brooklyn accent. "He's got pussy radar!"

One look at Sonny's eyes was enough to tell me that he idolized Dean-whose attention, all at once, I felt anxious to get back. "You ever go to Leon and Eddie's?" I asked, my voice sounding even higher and squeakier than its usual high and squeaky. Leon and Eddie's was a restaurant and nightclub a couple of blocks away, on fabulous Fifty-second Street-which, in those days, was lined with restaurants and former speakeasies, like "21," and music clubs like the Five Spot and Birdland. Live entertainment still ruled America in those pretelevision days, Manhattan was the world capital of nightclubs, and Leon and Eddie's was a mecca for nightclub comics. Sunday night was Celebrity Night: The fun would start after hours, when anybody in the business might show up and get on to do a piece of their act. You'd see the likes of Milton Berle, Henny Youngman, Danny Kaye. It was magical. I used to go and gawk, like a kid in a candy store. Someday, I thought.... But for now, no chance. They'd never use a dumb act-one needing props, yet.

"Yeah, sometimes I stop by Sunday nights," Dean said.

"Me too!" I cried.

He gave me that smile again-warm but ever so slightly cool around the edges. It bathed you in its glow, yet didn't let you in. Men don't like to admit it, but there's something about a truly handsome guy who also happens to be truly masculine-what they call a man's man-that's as magnetic to us as it is to women. That's what I want to be like, you think. Maybe if I hang around with him, some of that'll rub off on me.

"So-maybe I'll see you there sometime," Dean told me.

"Yeah, sure," I said.

"Go get your tux out of hock," he said.

I laughed. He was funny.

* * *

Sonny King was a pal, but not a friend. I badly needed a friend. I was a lonely kid, the only child of two vaudevillians who were rarely around. My dad, Danny, was a singer and all-around entertainer: He did it all-patter, impressions, stand-up comedy. My mom, Rachel (Rae), was Danny's pianist and conductor. So I grew up shuttled from household to household, relative to relative. I cherished the precious times Mom and Dad would take me on the road with them. And for them, the highest form of togetherness was to put me right in the act: My first onstage appearance was at age five, in 1931, at the President Hotel, a summer resort in Swan Lake, New York. I wore a tux (naturally) and sang that Depression classic "Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?" From that moment on, showbiz was in my blood. So was loneliness.

By the time I was sixteen, I was a high-school dropout and a show-business wannabe. A desperately-wanting-to-be wannabe. I worked the Catskill resorts as a busboy (for pay) and (for free) a tummler-the guy who cuts up, makes faces, gets the guests in a good mood for the real entertainment. That's what I wanted to be, the real entertainment. But what was I going to do? I was tall, skinny, gawky; cute but funny-looking. With the voice God had given me, I certainly wasn't going to be a singer like my dad, with his Al Jolson baritone. I always saw the humor in things, the joke possibilities. At the same time, I didn't have the confidence to stand on a stage and talk.

Then I hit on a genius solution-or what seemed at the time like a genius solution. One night, at a New Jersey resort where my parents were doing their act, a friend of mine, an aspiring performer, Lonnie Brown-the daughter of Charlie and Lillian Brown, resort hotelkeepers who were destined to become very important in my life-was listening to a record by an English singer named Cyril Smith, trying to learn those classy English intonations. I had a little crush on Lonnie, and, attempting to impress her, I started to clown around, mouthing along to the music, rolling my eyes and playing the diva. Well, Lonnie broke up, and that was music to my ears. An act was born.

After a couple of hard years on the road, playing burlesque houses where the guys with newspapers on their laps would boo me off the stage so they could see the strippers, I became a showbiz veteran (still in my teens) with an act called "Jerry Lewis-Satirical Impressions in Pantomimicry."

I had perfected the act, and to tell the absolute truth, it was pretty goddamn funny. I would put on a fright wig and a frock coat and lip-synch to the great baritone Igor Gorin's "Largo Al Factotum" from The Barber of Seville. I'd come out in a Carmen Miranda dress, with fruit on my hat, and do Miranda. Then into a pin-striped jacket, suck in my cheeks, and I'd do Sinatra singing "All or Nothing at All." I knew where every scratch and skip was on every record, and when they came up, I'd do shtick to them. I had gotten better and better at contorting my long, skinny body in ways that I knew worked comedically. I practiced making faces in front of a mirror till I cracked myself up. God hadn't made me handsome, but he'd given me something, I always felt: funny bones.

And I never said a word on stage.

The dumb act was a rapidly fading subspecialty in those rapidly fading days of baggy-pants comedy, and my own days doing it were numbered. There were a few of us lip-synchers out there, working the circuit, and while I liked (and still like) to think that I was the best of the bunch-nobody could move or pratfall or make faces like Jerry Lewis- I only had around three to eleven audience members per show who agreed with me. Those three or four or nine people would be wetting themselves while I performed, as the rest of the house (if anyone else was there) clapped slowly, or booed.... Bring on the strippers!

And I never said a word.

The truth is, funny sentences were always running through my brain: I thought funny. But I was ashamed of what would come out if I spoke-that nasal kid's voice. So I was funny on stage, but I was only part funny: I was still looking for the missing piece.


Excerpted from Dean and Me by Jerry Lewis James Kaplan Copyright © 2005 by Jerry Lewis and James Kaplan. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Meet the Author

JERRY LEWIS and Dean Martin sandwiched sixteen money-making films in between nightclub engagements, recording sessions, radio shows, and television bookings during their ten-year partnership. Over the following years Lewis remained in the spotlight as the groundbreaking creator and star of a series of hugely successful movie comedies, and scored triumphs in stage appearances in Europe, where he has been hailed as one of the greatest director-comedians of the twentieth century. He was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize, and has received numerous other honors for his tireless efforts in the fight against the fourty neuromuscular diseases.
JAMES KAPLAN has written novels, essays, and reviews, as well as over a hundred major profiles for many magazines, including The New Yorker, the New York Times Magazine, Vanity Fair, Esquire, Entertainment Weekly, and New York. In 2002 Kaplan coauthored the autobiography of John McEnroe, You Cannot Be Serious, which was an international bestseller (and #1 on the New York Times list). He lives in Westchester, New York, with his wife and three sons.

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Dean and Me: A Love Story 4.1 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 38 reviews.
Guest More than 1 year ago
Growing up working for an executive at NBC, I was lucky to have known Dean Martin myself. Now, years later, as founder of the 'Dean Martin Fan Center', I have met and heard from so many people who were close enough to know both Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis when they were a comedy/musical team who took the world by storm. After entertaining the world for ten years through stage, radio, films, television and recordings, the public grew to love the team. Then, after a decade of burning up everything they touched, the duo became burned out themselves. Having to please the studio executives who wanted to keep the cash cow producing, their material became recycled. Martin and Lewis as individuals grew and saw beyond what they were doing. Those pressures and confining elements only led to animosity between each other, and finally wound up in divorce. As in any parting, not only did it hurt the two involved, but also their family and friends. The public was their 'extended' family-- and now each fan had to choose between taking Dean's side or Jerry's side, usually putting blame on the other partner for the breakup. The media took huge advantage of this. When I first heard that Jerry was a writing his memoirs of those partnership years, I was more than a bit apprehensive. After all, Dean has already left this world and what would Jerry say about him? Would Jerry take credit for everything? Would Jerry somehow put blame for their breakup on his partner somehow? I finally got my advance copy sent overnight from the publisher. Amazingly, it wasn't the size of the Gutenberg Bible that I expected. I finished it in one sitting, actually waiting for something I didn't like or would find inacurate to blast on about. Guess what? I WAS SHOCKED -- Shocked to find that this book is honest, sincere, unbiased and does not put either Dean or Jerry into the spotlight -- rather it lights up the stage. It is a well written, well balanced, easy to read history, focusing on the duo as a 'team'. Their excitement... their worries... their amazement... their ups and their downs... their freedoms and their obstacles. Jerry ties together anecdotes and facts many of us heard before, with more focus and information, to have it all finally make sense. I don't impress easily when it comes to stories told (no matter who writes them), but as for 'Dean and Me : A Love Story,' this is the real deal. Finally -- an honest inside look at the exhilaration and ever mounting pressures Martin & Lewis experienced, always having to please everyone around them, except themselves. James Kaplan, Jerry's co-writer, is absolutely marvelous in helping Lewis, not only get his message across, but making the reader feel the emotions inside along the way. He paints a picture with words. I would advise anyone wanting a first-hand look at Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis, that this is the book to read. - Neil T Daniels
Guest More than 1 year ago
I was born in the forties and I remember Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis from the movies and TV. I was young when I saw them perform, but realized as I got older what a wonderful magical team tey were. Anyone that has ever dreamed of making it in show business should read this book. Talk about overnight success. Their act was born in the wee hours of the morning, in a little nightclub before about 11 people. You can feel their excitment as their fame grew. It was almost as if you were there, when they couldn't believe what was happening to them. If you like show business, you will enjoy this.
MarkOz More than 1 year ago
I recommend this book if you are a fan of Jerry Lewis, Dean Martin, or that fasinating era that they dominated so grandly. The book reads just like if you were fortunate enough to be a close friend of Jerry Lewis'. He comes across has a great narrator of that magical time he lived in with Dean. You feel that he is holding nothing back on what made him and Martin click and what ultimately broke them apart. You also feel the love thoat Lewis had for his great partner, Dean Martin, who still manages to keep some of the mystery that made people want to be around this fascinating entertainer. Martin and Lewis will forever be among the great comedy teams of all time. Great biography, couldn't put it down.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
They are both talented and brilliant entertainers - what a blessing
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
All my life I enjoyed Martin and Lewis, together and seperately, but it was apparent that when they were together it was lightning in a bottle. The love and respect they had for each other was so beautiful and inspiring. I loved this book and at the end I was teary-eyed. How fortunate that they had the years together that they had, what a gift.
MilleryMe More than 1 year ago
I enjoyed reading the backstory on how they got started, what happened in between, and when they broke up. There is so much that I didn't know about each individual man. I really enjoyed reading this book.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I could not put this down. There was some disparity as to stories he has told in interviews and what he has written in this book but the man is on an eighty year run so he has earned a whole lot of leeway in my opinion!
doctor-zhivago More than 1 year ago
If you enjoyed their antics together this is a great way to get tthe backstory
Spiralcity More than 1 year ago
Guest More than 1 year ago
This book was excellent. Mr. Lewis writes about many things that no one but the pair would know about. His precise recollections really show his love for his partner Dean Martin. This is a must read for anyone who has been hurt in a relationship or just for those fans of Martin and Lewis.
Guest More than 1 year ago
Very good read. Jerry Lewis gives credit where credit is due Dean Martin was a huge talent and a huge part of their success. I was surprised at Mr. Lewis' honest self-appraisal - highly recommend this book.
Guest More than 1 year ago
I was born in the forties and grew up with Martin and Lewis. I always thought they were so funny and enjoyed them immensilaly. I didn't realize until later what comic geniuses they were. You would watch other acts and there just wasn't the spark. After reading this book you realize what an over night success they were and also how hard they worked. For anyone that has ever had a dream this book is a must. The love and admiration that Jerry Lewis had for Dean Martin comes through loud and clear. Jerry Lewis truly believes that without Dean no one would have ever heard of him.
ReadersReviewsJMA More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I loved this book!
GrannyfromBrooklyn More than 1 year ago
Very well written. The book gave an in depth look into the era and the pressures of going with the flow while becoming an entertainer. Mr. Lewis pays homage to his old partner/friend. He is proud of his accomplishments, yet humble enough to admit his youthful errors. Anyone who remembers this wonderful team will love this book.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This book, for the title itself is the reason I read all 231 pages. I have always had an interest in this great comic duo for many years. And this book definitely brought a very personal touch to the men I watched on the silver screen, TV, and fell in love with the ideas comedy. And to have a respect for what being a true showman was all about. Thank you Mr Kaplan, for writing this book. To allow us a moment to dip into the lives of two great entertainers.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Interesting information about both super stars and other famous stars during that era.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I knew that they were partners who broke up their act but never knew why. This book explains everything and I really admire Jerry for not putting the blame entirely on Dean.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
A wonderful duo that just burned the candle at both ends too quickly. Such a shame that they lost all those years of friendship even if they needed to move on in different directions professionally.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
A well written account of a great comedy team .
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Bookworm1951 More than 1 year ago
Thoroughly enjoyable. Hard to put down. If you are or were a fan of the Martin and Lewis team, you will definitely like this book. A frank and revealing story about the duo's lives and meteoric rise to the top in the 1940's and 50's. Jerry Lewis also reveals the not-so-funny side of their relationship and lifestyle in those days. The book takes you beyond their break-up and their semi-reconciliation. Jerry talks about how Dean's life and death impacted him and the entire entertainment industry. Told with compassion and honesty. Not for young readers. Some foul language and adult situations.
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Anonymous More than 1 year ago