If you’ve ever found yourself deep-diving into the chaotic filmography of Jerry Lewis, you’ve likely stumbled upon a weird, neon-tinted outlier called Which Way to the Front? Released in 1970, it’s a movie that basically feels like a fever dream. It’s loud. It’s colorful. It is, quite honestly, one of the most polarizing entries in the "war comedy" subgenre.
Most people today only know Lewis for The Nutty Professor or his legendary telethons. But Which Way to the Front? represents a turning point. It was his first movie for Warner Bros., and it came at a time when his brand of slapstick was crashing head-first into the cynical, grit-soaked vibes of the 1970s. Critics at the time mostly hated it. They called it self-indulgent. They said it was out of touch.
But looking back from 2026, there is something weirdly fascinating about it.
What Really Happens in Which Way to the Front?
The plot is high-concept in the most "Jerry Lewis" way possible. Lewis plays Brendan Byers III, who is—according to the script—the richest man in the entire world. It’s 1943. The world is at war. Byers wants in, but he gets slapped with a 4-F classification. Basically, the Army tells him he’s unfit for service.
Most people would just go back to their mansions and drink martinis. Not Byers.
He decides that if the U.S. Army won’t have him, he’ll just build his own. He recruits a group of fellow 4-F rejects—guys who are too old, too weak, or just too "Jerry Lewis-adjacent" to serve. He buys them equipment. He trains them on his own estate. Then, he takes his private yacht to Italy to take on the Nazis himself.
It's absurd.
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The Double Role Nobody Talks About
A huge chunk of the movie involves Lewis playing a second character: Nazi Field Marshal Erik Kesselring. The plan? Byers is going to impersonate Kesselring to mess up the German defensive lines.
If this sounds like The Great Dictator, you're not wrong. Lewis was a massive fan of Charlie Chaplin. In fact, there is a scene with Sidney Miller playing a zany, over-the-top Adolf Hitler that feels like a direct, albeit much weirder, homage to Chaplin's 1940 masterpiece.
Why the Movie Looked So Weird (Even in 1970)
One thing that confuses modern viewers is the aesthetic. It's supposed to be 1943. But the movie looks like 1970 threw up on a World War II set.
We’re talking:
- Mercenaries wearing bright orange jump suits.
- Lightning blue uniforms.
- Red nylon turtlenecks.
- Sideburns that definitely didn't exist in the '40s.
Lewis wasn't trying for historical accuracy. He was leaning into a "visual direction" that felt more like a variety show than a war movie. Some film historians, like Chris Fujiwara, have pointed out that Lewis was basically dismantling narrative logic. He didn't care if it looked real; he cared if it looked Lewis.
The Cast: A Who's Who of "Hey, I Know That Guy!"
While Jerry is the sun that everything orbits around, the supporting cast is actually stacked with character actors and comedians who hold their own.
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Jan Murray plays Sid Hackle. Murray was a legend of the Borscht Belt, and honestly, he’s the secret weapon of this movie. He plays the straight man with a deadpan delivery that saves some of the more "hammy" scenes. Then you’ve got Steve Franken (who many remember from The Party) and Kaye Ballard. Even John Wood shows up as Finkel, Byers' right-hand man.
Interestingly, this is often cited as one of Lewis's most "generous" films. Usually, Jerry takes up 99% of the oxygen in the room. But here, he actually lets the other comedians have their moments.
The Critics vs. The "Lewis Cult"
When the movie hit theaters, the American press was largely done with Jerry. The 1960s had been his decade, but by 1970, audiences were moving toward M*A*S*H—a war comedy that was dark, cynical, and bloody. Lewis’s brand of "the rich guy plays soldier" felt like a relic.
However, over in France, critics were losing their minds.
French film journals like Cahiers du Cinéma and critics like Tag Gallagher started calling Lewis a "masterpiece" creator. They saw Which Way to the Front? as a sophisticated satire of power and identity. They loved the way he used the "video assist" (a tech Lewis actually pioneered) to control every frame.
There’s this famous quote from a 1971 review in the Rome Daily American that called it "one of the few masterpieces of a comic personality since Keaton and Chaplin." That is high praise for a movie where a guy in a Nazi uniform does a funny voice.
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The Legacy of the "Lost" Jerry Lewis Era
This movie sits right on the edge of the most mysterious period of Lewis's life. Just two years after Which Way to the Front?, he would go to Sweden to film the infamous, unreleased The Day the Clown Cried.
You can see the seeds of that later obsession here. The fascination with WWII, the desire to use comedy to mock the ultimate evil (Hitler), and the struggle to be taken seriously as an "auteur" while still making fart jokes.
Key Takeaways for Film Buffs:
- Don't expect Saving Private Ryan. This is a vaudeville show disguised as a war movie.
- Watch the technical stuff. Lewis was a genius with the camera. Even if you hate the jokes, the framing and the use of color are objectively high-level.
- It's a time capsule. It shows exactly where 1960s "zany" comedy died and 1970s "experimental" filmmaking began.
How to Watch It Today
Finding Which Way to the Front? isn't as easy as hitting "play" on Netflix. It occasionally pops up on TCM (Turner Classic Movies) or via boutique labels like Warner Archive.
If you want to understand the transition from the "Golden Age" of Hollywood comedy to the weirdness of the 70s, you have to see it. Just don't go in expecting a history lesson. Go in expecting Jerry Lewis to be the most "Jerry Lewis" he could possibly be with a Warner Bros. budget and a pair of orange coveralls.
Actionable Insight: If you’re a fan of physical comedy history, pair this with a viewing of Chaplin's The Great Dictator. Watch the "Hitler" scenes back-to-back. You’ll see exactly how Lewis was trying to evolve Chaplin's DNA for a new, much more chaotic generation. Check your local library's digital catalog or specialized streaming services like MUBI, which frequently host "Jerrythons" featuring his directorial work.