Jim Carrey may well be the Jerry Lewis of the Nineties. Which would mean, in addition to masturbation jokes and such, that where Lewis had directors who were also stylists (himself, Tashlin), Carrey, here on the trail of the sacred white bat of mythical Nibia in Darkest Africa, has someone by the name of Steve Oedekerk. (Pee-wee Herman, the Jerry Lewis of the Eighties, at least had Tim Burton. Once.) If Oedekerk has any style at all, outside of allowing lots of room for the star's body spasms and facial isometrics, it escapes easy detection. Ian McNeice, Simon Callow. (1995) — Duncan Shepherd
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