On old actors' motto says "dying is easy, comedy is hard." In a dark dramatic turn in "Max Rose," his first leading role in decades, Jerry Lewis proves he still has the power, physicality and timing to play both ways. He turns against type as Max, a long retired jazz pianist coping with evidence that his late, beloved wife kept a secret affair from him for 65 years.
The film follows Max's emotional downward spiral with simplicity, limited schmaltz and bracingly honest melancholy. Newly widowed at 87, he faces the new idea that he was married to a different, entirely foreign woman. It's a strong character turn that makes the tender little film such a fascination to watch, a reminder of his work as a misanthropic late night TV host in Martin Scorsese's "The King of Comedy."
Boiling with anger and joyless at the best of times, Max moves to deepened bitterness and feelings of failure. At her wake, he offers a tense confession of disappointment as a husband with his wife, Eva (Claire Bloom), a father with his son Christopher (Kevin Pollak), a grandfather to Annie (Kerry Bishe), and a performer. Despite solid work by the individual performers, the screenplay by director Daniel Noah holds its focus on Max throughout as he faces his fears and searches his memories for clues to what may have happened.
The tone wobbles here and there, especially in a clown-nose pantomime show Annie stages to cheer him up, and the quasi-supernatural climax rankles the final moments. The overall style of the film isn't nearly as captivating as Lily Tomlin's caustic, sarcastic showcase, "Grandma," tailored specifically for her by writer/director Paul Weitz. Still, this soulful, nuanced performance by a long-ignored veteran should please some old Jerry Lewis fans. And possibly create some new ones.
