judy

They are not just pictures, they are a memorial of that time, containing voices, feelings, and the lives of a person…a story! .. confined between four corners

I once came across an interview with Jerry Lewis, where he was discussing his autobiography—the one he wrote himself. But honestly, I couldn’t even get through the first ten minutes because of the interviewer’s approach. Imagine pouring your heart into writing about your life, your struggles, your journey, only to have the interviewer immediately focus on the part about Dean Martin.Jerry, though he laughed, clearly looked uncomfortable and said, “There are other things in the book.” And I felt annoyed on his behalf. No matter how much you love someone, it’s frustrating when your entire life story is reduced to your relationship with them.After 1971, the whole narrative shifted. Suddenly, Dean was the center of attention again, and Jerry was only ever brought up in connection to him. The problem isn’t Dean’s fame—it’s the fact that Jerry, despite his long, impactful career, started being remembered only when Dean’s name came up. As if his entire existence was just a shadow of that past partnership.Dean himself used the media to attack Jerry in the years following their split, from the 1950s through the mid-60s—maybe to keep his name in the spotlight or control the story. And sure, it’s natural for any star’s fame to fade over time. But what’s painful is to be erased, reduced to being “the other one.”I’m not just speaking about Jerry or Dean—but both of them, each during their own era of fame. Both had their time, both had their battles. But no one deserves to have their legacy narrowed down to just a supporting role in someone else’s story.

I genuinely don’t understand—why are comedians so underappreciated by academic institutions and award bodies?Comedy is not easy. In fact, it’s incredibly difficult to make people laugh, and even harder to keep making them laugh over time. Comedians constantly have to evolve—change their style, their jokes, even their persona—because if they don’t, they get forgotten fast.It’s not like horror or drama. Comedians are often treated like joke machines, not like real people with emotions—people who struggle, who fail, who feel deeply. They’re seen in the same shallow way models are sometimes seen—just bodies performing a function.And what’s with the “honorary awards”? What do they even mean when they’re handed out after someone’s career has faded, after their energy is gone? It feels less like recognition, and more like a late apology. It doesn’t really honor them—it almost reduces them.Why is comedy so often pushed aside in favor of drama? It’s incredibly rare for a comedy film to get proper recognition. And when comedians do win Oscars, it’s usually for dramatic roles—not for comedy.Many people treat comedy as if it’s for children, rather than recognizing it as a sharp, powerful lens for social reality. Think about Charlie Chaplin’s films—they expressed real-world pain with a smile. Or The Nutty Professor, which explored deep psychological issues in a comedic way. That is art. That’s emotional release.Just like horror films are an outlet for our darkest thoughts, comedy is an outlet for our strangeness, our contradictions, the sides of us society often won’t let us express.So when I see comedians constantly overlooked like this, I can’t help but find it strange—sad, even. Comedy is a real art form, and it deserves far more than just polite laughter

When I watch Jerry or follow anything of his, I feel happy, and if it's Dean, I feel the same thing, but when I see their joint work or when they are together, I feel sad. I don't know, but I can't follow anything of theirs without my heart hurting a little.