MDA telethon dumps Jerry Lewis

[Sonic Youth]

Without Jerry Lewis, MDA telethon promises to be bland affair
BY FRAZIER MOORE
Chicago Sun Times

No one would sniff at all the dollars Jerry Lewis has raised to fight muscular dystrophy: a couple of billion during his 45-year reign as host of the MDA Telethon.

But what kind of TV did he offer in exchange? The short answer: Jerry put on a show like no other.

Labor Day weekend this year promises to be bland by comparison, with the 85-year-old Lewis now banished from the annual rite he built from scratch and molded in his image.

As if deflated by the absence of its larger-than-life host, “The 46th Annual MDA Labor Day Telethon” will fill just six hours (6 p.m. Sunday to midnight), rather than the grueling 21½-hour endurance contest that Lewis used to churn through with his viewers in tow. Locally, WGN-Channel 9 will air its own telethon programming from 5 to 6 p.m., with intermittent cutaways from the national telethon thereafter.

On this year’s broadcast (which, ironically, will no longer be actually airing on Labor Day), a quartet of lightweights are standing in for Jerry: Nigel Lythgoe (“So You Think You Can Dance”), Nancy O’Dell (“Entertainment Tonight”), Alison Sweeney (“The Biggest Loser”) and Jann Carl (billed as “an Emmy-winning journalist”).

Celebrities will include Celine Dion, Jennifer Lopez, Lady Antebellum, Richie Sambora and Jordin Sparks.

It may be entertaining. It may spur contributions. But as a media event, this year’s telethon can hardly match the display of wretched excess Lewis guaranteed, especially in his epic, unbridled prime.

“Jerry is a ferociously contradictory personality, and that’s what makes him fascinating to watch,” says satirist-actor-writer Harry Shearer, a Jerry watcher for a half-century. He noted just two of Lewis’ clashing identities: “the inner 9-year-old, set loose” and the would-be deep thinker “who fancies himself something of an autodidact.”

“It all makes for psychodrama of a high order,” Shearer marvels.

Year after year, Lewis bounced between the polarities of smarmy sentimentalism and badgering lunacy as if in a weightless environment. He put his multiple identities on raw display, each constantly jostling for the spotlight.

It was fascinating, ridiculous, cringe-worthy and spellbinding to see how Jerry held court for the parade of entertainers, the checks-bearing civic leaders and corporate sponsors, and the adorable, afflicted kids.

The Jerry Lewis telethon was a reality show decades before the term or genre had been invented. It was video retailing, years before QVC. It was round-the-clock TV companionship long before cable news and the Weather Channel. For nearly a full day, it was a spectacle of show-biz glitz, heart-tugging emotion and suspense: Would Jerry make it to the end without unraveling? Would the level of pledges do justice to his efforts at soliciting them?

There was a perfect symbiosis of the telethon and Lewis. He made muscular dystrophy as big a star as he had once been. Meanwhile, aligning himself with the search for its cure gave him the gravitas he had always sought. He branded the disease with himself, and vice versa.

He was not only the host of the telethon and chairman of the Muscular Dystrophy Association (a job he would hold for 60 years), but the central figure in a massive enterprise as the self-styled avenging angel of a dread disease.

There was the unresolved question of Lewis’ motives — he has famously refused to say why he poured so much of his life into MDA. How much of what he did was prompted by humanitarian urges? How much is explained by the voracious appetites of an attention hog?

And how to explain the choice of theme songs by Lewis for his righteous cause: the piteousness of “Smile (Though Your Heart Is Aching),” and, of course, the riotously inappropriate “You’ll Never Walk Alone” with which Lewis, overcome by emotion, ended each telethon, daring his audience to consider it a cruel joke.

Lewis found a perfect counterbalance for his excesses and vanities in the purity and urgent need of “his” kids. Everything he did he was doing in their service, which, in his mind, absolved him of his carte blanche life-or-death extravagance.

And it made him, at last, a success on TV. He was a comedian-singer-writer-actor-director-producer-movie star who, after splitting with his partner Dean Martin in the mid-1950s, had failed to match his other triumphs with any real television inroads. But on the telethon each year, for 21½ hours, he was the unquestioned boss of the Love Network.

On Aug. 3, with no elaboration, MDA announced that Lewis had “completed his run” as national chairman, and that he would not be appearing on the telethon, as promised earlier.

Lewis has provided no insight into the matter. But it’s hard to imagine how wronged he must feel.

The telethon will be on again this Labor Day weekend, in some faint version of what Lewis wrought. But for those who watch, and remember it with Jerry, it is likely to feel like a lonely affair.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Comedians who think Jerry Lewis was unceremoniously dumped from his post as chairman of the Muscular Dystrophy Association and face of its annual telethon are holding a Web-athon of their own. Los Angeles’ Laugh Factory owner Jamie Masada said Friday that his club will hold a fundraiser on Monday featuring comedians such as Norm Crosby and Dave Chappelle. Fans can watch the performances online and make donations. Proceeds of the event will be presented to scientists working toward a cure for muscular dystrophy as the Jerry Lewis Award. Masada says the event will be held annually until a cure is found.

[Sonic Youth]

Comedians rally in support of Jerry Lewis
By DERRIK J. LANG

LOS ANGELES (AP) - Jerry Lewis' separation from the Muscular Dystrophy Association is not a laughing matter for some comedians.

Paul Rodriguez, Larry Miller, Tom Dreesen, Norm Crosby and others have joined in support of Lewis, the 85-year-old comedian who the MDA said is no longer its national chairman and will not appear on this year's telethon. The Tucson, Ariz.-based association announced earlier this week that the organization was parting ways with him after 45 years.

"If this is the way we're going, we should also tell grandpa we don't need him for Thanksgiving," joked Miller.

The funnymen told reporters gathered at The Laugh Factory comedy club Friday in Hollywood that they want the MDA to feature Lewis in some capacity on the upcoming telethon. At the very least, they said he deserves a proper send-off on the show he made famous. Rodriguez said Lewis should be brought back in a limo and "given the accolades that he deserves."

"He's not dead," said Rodriguez. "He's very much alive."

The comedians said they hadn't spoken with Lewis since the separation was announced, but Laugh Factory owner Jamie Masada said they supported Lewis "regardless of why he was dismissed." Dreesen speculated that the MDA told Lewis that he would be phased out of the telethon, and the group was fearful of what Lewis would say during the six-hour broadcast.

"There's no way they would give him the microphone for five minutes," said Dreesen.

MDA spokesman Jim Brown declined to say what prompted the decision. Lewis publicist Candi Cazau of Las Vegas also declined to comment. She said on Thursday the comedian was traveling outside his home state of Nevada. Lewis previously said in a statement issued through the association in May that he would make his final appearance on the Sept. 4 telethon.

Preparations for the 46th annual telethon are under way as planned at the South Point Hotel, Casino and Spa in Las Vegas, where the event will be held, said casino spokesman Tom Mikovits. He said the MDA telethon, which has been broadcast from the South Point since 2006, makes arrangement with the event venue on a year-to-year basis.

[OscarGuy]

I almost wonder if this is an undisclosed illness kind of thing? Lewis ain't no spring chicken.

[Sonic Youth]

Where o where is Damien?

Jerry Lewis ousted as MDA telethon host
After decades with the Muscular Dystrophy Assn., Jerry Lewis is dropped as the telethon's host and the group's national chairman. Fellow comedians decry the mysterious ouster.
By Steven Zeitchik and Deborah Vankin, Los Angeles Times

August 5, 2011

For the first time in 45 years, Jerry Lewis will not be pleading for donations in front of a camera Labor Day weekend after he was abruptly dismissed as the host of the Muscular Dystrophy Assn.'s telethon, an event that drew attention to the childhood disease and in its heyday was an annual television highlight.

The group said the 85-year-old legendary comedian would not appear on this year's telethon, and would no longer serve as its national chairman, a position he held for nearly 60 years. The telethons have raised nearly $2.5 billion, the MDA said.

The announcement and the mysterious circumstances surrounding Lewis' departure provoked an outcry from comedians and other performers, who still widely revere him for his groundbreaking routines and public service.

"As a fellow comedian, it's really crappy the way they treated him," Paul Rodriguez said. "The man is an institution. They should have found a better way to let him go."

The MDA said it did not expect to name a new host this year and that the Sept. 4 event would be shepherded by entertainment personalities Nigel Lythgoe, Jann Carl, Alison Sweeney and Nancy O'Dell.

"Jerry Lewis is a world-class humanitarian and we're forever grateful to him for his more than half century of generous service to MDA," said MDA Chairman of the Board R. Rodney Howell.

The decision represented an about-face from the MDA's announcement in May that Lewis would host the telethon for a final time this year, and would appear in the closing moments of future telethons to sing his trademark number, "You'll Never Walk Alone."

The marathon telecast was once a must-stop venue for comedians and entertainers. During the height of its popularity, the telethon featured performances from show business luminaries, including Sammy Davis Jr., Liberace, the Supremes, Johnny Cash and Frank Sinatra.

In recent decades, the event's appeal faded with younger viewers who found the format somewhat dated. Indeed, the telethon model itself as a fundraising vehicle lost much of its force, particularly with the rise of the Internet, which emerged as a more potent generator of donations.

Even before ousting Lewis, the MDA was poised to scale back the telethon from more than 20 hours to as few as six, primarily because stations were threatening to drop all or part of the telecast.

The telethon's earning power had declined in recent years. According to public tax filings, the telethon brought in $56.4 million in gross receipts in 2005.

But in 2009, the latest year for which records are available, the tally dropped to $45.6 million.

A spokeswoman for Lewis said the star had no comment on his exit from the telethon. But others rallied to Lewis' defense.

Jamie Masada, the longtime owner of the Laugh Factory in Los Angeles, said he's received a dozen messages from comedians, including Dane Cook and Dave Chappelle, expressing anger over the way Lewis had been let go.

"He's the face of the telethon," Masada said. "Without him, there's no show."

Lewis said Saturday at the Television Critics Assn. press tour in Beverly Hills that he saw himself continuing, in part because his role as host went beyond a show business opportunity.

When a questioner asked what he would have to do to be satisfied with his life, he replied: "Get the cure for muscular dystrophy, then I'm fine."

The disease is a group of more than 40 disorders that affect more than 1 million Americans. The maladies, sometimes referred to as neuromuscular disorders, weaken the muscles and eventually result in profound disability. The most common form of the disease is Duchenne muscular dystrophy, which affects about 1 in 3,500 males worldwide.

But despite the money Lewis raised to fight these disorders, the telethon may represent an old-fashioned image of the state of research and progress on the disease, some experts said. Scientific advances in understanding the illness have accelerated in recent years with a number of new treatments in the pipeline.

The notion of sick children, experts said, contradicted the current reality in which patients lead full lives into their 30s and even beyond. "When the disease wasn't treatable, it was sadness and poster children," said M. Carrie Miceli, co-director of the Center for Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy at UCLA. "The new image is not as pitiful as much as empowering."

Although Jerry Lewis and the national telethon may be the only awareness many Americans have of muscular dystrophy, that is changing, several experts said. A group called Cure Duchenne launched a highly visible awareness campaign this year, with sponsorship from Cadillac, that included an appearance by NFL linebacker Clay Matthews and singer Justin Bieber.

Still, MDA's announcement marked the end of an era for one of the world's most beloved living performers. Lewis began a small-scale telethon in 1954, not long after which he also became MDA's national chairman. He expanded it into its current format as a marathon special in 1966, first in New York and then in Las Vegas. Over the last 45 years, he had turned a generic fundraising event into a fixture of the entertainment calendar. Lewis' efforts with the organization also helped earn him the Oscars' Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award.

On the telecast, Lewis could provide a dose of spontaneity — and sometimes gaffes — to what would otherwise be a stuffy setup. Lewis presided over a telethon that could stretch more than 21 hours and mixed heartfelt appeals featuring sick children with classic comedy, musical entertainment and special guests.

Perhaps its most famous moment came in 1976, when Sinatra helped arrange a reunion between Lewis and longtime partner Dean Martin, with whom he had fallen out. Ten years later, Lewis and Sammy Davis Jr. made headlines when they performed a memorable split-screen Amos 'N Andy routine on the telecast.

But Lewis' involvement hasn't been without controversy. In 2007, Lewis nearly let slip a homophobic epithet. Lewis also raised the ire of women's groups over the years with several disparaging comments; in 1986 he mockingly noted a female reviewer's menstrual cycle, prompting some groups to call for him to leave the telethon.

Not all comedians were surprised that Lewis wouldn't be continuing with MDA.

"It's probably time for him to retire," Tom Arnold said. "But he should get to say goodbye.

"If they'd promoted this as Jerry Lewis' final telethon they could've gotten guys like George Clooney, which would've opened the door to God knows who. It would've been a big deal, and showbiz loves big deals."