Eight years ago I watched roughly a half-hour’s worth of footage from Jerry Lewis‘s The Day The Clown Cried. Here’s what I wrote at the time:

Poasted on 6.16.16: “The Day The Clown Crieed is a kind of ghost cult film, one that’s been written about and discussed and derided in absentia by film sophistos for several decades.

“It’s a fascinating piece. I’m glad I saw what I saw. I now have a rough idea of how TDTCC plays and feels emotionally. It may not be anyone’s idea of a great or profound film, but it’s nowhere near as bad as I’d heard it was for so many years.

“Yes, the basic scheme is labored. One could call it grotesque in its attempt to whip up emotions via the cold-blooded mass murder of an isolated group of small children. But it’s a bit more measured and shaded than I expected — not absurdly over the top but delivered in smoky, grayish tones, and crafted with a feeling of noirish, downbeat gradualism.

“The ultimate consensus may be that it’s not a profoundly effective film, but nor is it the gaudy wipeout I had expected. It’s somewhere in between.”