The King of Comedy

The King Of Comedy (1982)

Directed by Martin Scorsese/ Written by Paul Zimmerman

      

The King of Comedy is one of those movies that divides audiences. You either love it and can appreciate its sinister comical satire, or abhor it for the very same reason. Wanna-be comic Rupert Pupkin will do anything to get famous. He accosts his hero, talk show host Jerry Langford in a shot at stardom, but Langford refuses to put Pupkin on the air. The increasingly unhinged comedian teams with a psychotic friend who has a not-very-healthy crush on the talk show host in a plan to kidnap Langford in one last-ditch effort at comedy glory. Pupkin finally coerces the show runner’s to allow him time on air. To much surprise his act does much better than expected, considering many of his previous jokes which seemed to fall flat. It makes sense that he would receive a fairly hefty prison sentence for his actions, yet what seems to defy logic is the praise and popularity he gains for his sinister act. He goes on to sell a book, make the cover of magazines and is favored by the public.

                                                                 

Considering the film’s final act it seems easy believe that some interpret his inexplicable rise to fame to be nothing more than another of his daydreams, while others take it at face value. It comes down to how you processed the film and what the writer and director sought to divulge about the current state of celebrity, including how our country feeds on said celebrity.

'The King of Comedy' at 30: Why Martin Scorsese's Bleak Celebrity Satire Still Matters

          By Gary Susman

http://news.moviefone.com/2013/02/18/the-king-of-comedy-30th-anniversary/

Susman’s article scrutinizes the King of Comedy, what is often considered Scorsese’s lesser films is unjustly categorized as such. Essentially the film has proven to be more profound and poignant today than it was upon its initial release. He likens fame and the pursuit of it to a disease Pupkin so desperately wishes to catch. He goes on to discuss Jerry Lewis’ role in the film, which was born from the mind of Paul Zimmerman. After reading an article about an obsessive Johnny Carson fan, he viewed the obsessive autograph-seeking fan as an assassin, both stalk their prey, one with a gun the other with a pen. The role was offered to Carson, but he turned it down and in stepped Lewis. Despite how much his persona differed from the role, Lewis took to it, even claiming to have directed some scenes and offering up a rather dark ending that wasn’t approved. Regardless, Lewis ran with the role and connected with the idea of desired celebrity vs undesired fan obsession.

The film is also prophetic for two purposes. First, it ushered in a darkly wry and almost cringe-worthy sense of humor that has become more prolific today in such comedies as The Office, Modern Family, and even Larry Sanders. It’s that style of humor that is dry; where the humor lies in the jokers unawareness of their own lack of humor; and the jokes are often followed by an awkward (yet funny) silence. Secondly, Rupert’s quest for his proverbial “15 minutes” seems to be a precursor to our reality-TV culture of today. The line between fame and notoriety has been blurred.

The article only further established what I liked about the film: it is a semi-dark tale that deconstructs our cultures insistent quest for fame, and all the wondrous moments and horror that can accompany it. The King of Comedy is often cited as Scorsese’s lesser works by some and by others it is praised as the film that deviated from his normal body of work. I agree that contemporary audiences have a thicker skin for such offbeat humor; it has become the “norm” if you will. Furthermore, Rupert’s pursuit of fame is not unlike many of today’s would be celebrities. Our airways have a plethora of untalented wannabees seeking the shortcut to fame, god forbid they work hard for what they deserve.

I had no issue with the humor as well, contemptuous as it may be. It seems as if only one person in the room is in on the joke while everyone else is left with an indifferent reaction. Today much of our hilarity is steeped in uncomfortable moments, men/women unaware of their lack of amusement, or making serious subject matter the butt of a joke. Nothing is off the table in today’s world. The King of Comedy somehow made obsessive fan worship and kidnapping humorous (to a point) all the while making a statement.

The King of Comedy toes the line between satire and fear. Pupkin is man oozing of desperation. While audiences find themselves able to relate to Pupkin’s dreams of grandeur, they also find themselves wincing at his methods. We see something of ourselves in Pupkin, he is a dreamer, something everyone one of us has been guilty of at one time or another. But he goes about his quest for comedy adulation in the most unappealing manner. His first attempt is through sycophantic tactics, when this fails he resorts to strong arming his “idol”. The film delves into Pupkin’s mind, allowing audiences a glimpse of his daydreams of success and riches. To Rupert success has is a shortcut to happiness. Yet there is a very poignant moment when Jerry puts the truth on the table saying “he is only human” and continues to educate Rupert on the grueling side of fame. With celebrity comes adoration, but also unwanted responsibility, stress, constant scrutiny and a dearth of privacy. Yet this speech (adlibbed by Lewis) falls on deaf ears.

Scorsese effectively makes audiences both empathize and loathe Rupert. He puts fame under the microscope. Jerry is the man everyone wants a part of, yet he goes home to what? … an empty New York sky rise. I was surprised by Lewis’ great skill in such a serious role as well as De Niro’s character being in stark contrast to his typical character depictions.  The film provides insight into celebrity, the blend of fantasy and reality, and rejection. Regardless of how you may interpret the film, it definitely warrants a viewing; it  is more relevant today than it was 30 years ago.