Everyone was gloating today about Jerry Lewis having donated The Day The Clown Cried, the World War II concentration camp tragedy that he directed but never finished and has pledged he’ll never allow to be shown, to the Library of Congress. The chuckling was over Lewis having stipulated that the film, the premise of which has been a butt of jokes for decades, can’t be screened until 2025. I don’t get the joke. Creativity is always about risking failure. Lewis wanted to make something powerful and devastating but he badly miscalculated. His sentimental streak didn’t mesh with the Holocaust. I’ve always had a perverse enjoyment of Lewis but a lot of others don’t like his brusque, caustic manner so they’re seizing upon this as a way to slap him around. The richer laughter was over Noah Bierman’s L.A. Times story having broke the news, but not until the 21st paragraph. Here’s a draft of the Clown script.