by Maurizio Roca
The title and look of Martin Scorsese’s 1983 film can be misleading. I initially assumed it was some broad 80s comedy that the director was making as a peculiar genre exercise similar to New York New York with Liza Minelli in 1977. What with De Niro’s flashy outfits and hairstyle, plus the inclusion of Sandra Bernhard, a false perception of what to expect is not an impossible stretch. While I had personally heard good things from various people about the film, I waited a long time before finally getting the motivation to watch it. When the day inevitably came, I was surprised by the content and the tone presented in The King Of Comedy. It has certainly been overlooked to some degree and for superficially obvious reasons in my case.
“I’m going to work 50 times harder, and I’m going to be 50 times more famous than you.”
Rupert Pupkin as played by Robert De Niro is an autograph hound who aspires to be a stand-up comic. He procures a “chance” meeting with Langford, a Johnny Carson-like talk show host (played by Jerry Lewis), who is struggling with a mob of crazed fans after a broadcast taping. Pupkin takes advantage of the situation and pitches himself incessantly to him. Langford halfheartedly promises to listen to his act, but once Langford and his colleagues hear his tape of comedy bits, Pupkin gets continuously rejected and outright dismissed. The initial adrenaline rush of a possible break into the big time followed by the realistic disappointment of being rebuffed results in increasingly elaborate imaginations—first filled with elation and then slowly become dire and desperate. Pupkin eventually resorts to kidnapping Langford, forcing hostage-like demands on the comedian, his network, and police to book an opening spot on that evening’s show. The elusive fantasy of fame and immortality are finally achieved through severe means…or so it seems. With The King Of Comedy, like the conclusion of Taxi Driver, we are never quite sure what is real and what is fabrication. For all we know, Pupkin may actually be reduced to banging his head against a brick wall in a jail cell after his various transgressions. The ending is undoubtedly ambiguous and open to interpretation.
Interestingly, while The King Of Comedy was indeed injected with humor, it was clearly of a dry and very black variety, which offers a disturbing look into the futility of dreams and ambitions that could not be fully realize. The delusions of Rupert Pupkin were in many ways similar to those of other Scorsese protagonists (if that is what we should call De Niro’s characters in Taxi Driver or Raging Bull)who easily crossed the line into perverse flights of fancy. The laughs come with a heavy dose of discomfort throughout the entire movie. One is reminded of Franz Kafka’s The Hunger Artist and it’s lowly forgotten central figure. Here is a person that has withdrawn so far within himself to lose all sense of reality. The big difference overall? At least the nameless fasting professional in Kafka’s short story had some recognition in the distant past (which could be up for debate when reading Kafka’s mocking sarcastic tone), while Pupkin is a complete obscurity who can’t even be remembered, much less be forgotten.
The link between both individuals in the film and the short story is the desire to scale heights that have now either been closed off or denied them due to some faceless uncaring establishment. The desperate attempt to gain some meaningful traction in a distracted world becomes an obsession beyond standard limits. It’s that determination to transcend the career barriers that have now been placed as roadblocks that gives both figures their propulsive drive. Both characters forget their actual circumstances and reach for something that society deems unattainable. The film’s humor comes from the fact that Pupkin has no actual talent (or personal shame) and has been sucked up into a superficial dream world of celebrity culture. The film offers a cynical look at thwarted desires, but it also shows that while he has both drive and ambition, he has pitched his tent towards a particular path unworthy of those virtues.
The performances by all the actors are wonderful across the board. One expects De Niro to give an inspired performance at this stage in his career and with Scorsese at the helm. He certainly does not disappoint at any point throughout the film. The bigger surprise (for me at least) is the very good work both Sandra Bernhard and Jerry Lewis put in. The former is superb in transmitting an even more frenzied level of distress than Rupert Pupkin. Lewis brings layered nuance to a character that isn’t someone the audience will necessarily root for, but who’s frustration can be understood given the circumstances of the plot.
So the question that must be asked is if this film can actually be considered part of the comedy genre? Some might oppose this label and consider it more of a straight drama with comedic overtones. In many ways, The King Of Comedy is darker than every film Scorsese had made up to this point. Rupert Pupkin is certainly a prescient character who seems to mirror American society’s obsession with celebrity culture and reality television even more thirty years later. He also comes off like an alarmingly modern version of an extreme narcissist who would certainly use and abuse social media tools like Facebook and Twitter to satisfy his sociopathic urges for attention. Above all else, what makes The King Of Comedy a spooky, chilly film is that its protagonist seems less a product of a singular example of individual isolation (Jake La Motta, for one), but more a consequence of a tainted culture that cultivates such people and societies in large quantities. It’s a satire that foreshadows a new kind of thriving self-absorption.
So does the movie make you laugh? Does it belong on this countdown? Well, at least seven people seem to think so…
How The King Of Comedy Made The Top 100:
Bobby McCartney No: 6
Maurizio Roca No: 12
John Greco No: 28
J.D. La France No: 34
Ed Howard No: 39
Pierre De Plume No: 40
Pedro Silva No: 45
Jerry Lee Lewis?
Great balls of fire!
Fixed. Didn’t realize. A skeleton of a more ambitious piece I ran out of time to write due to a very busy schedule these last few weeks.
Sorry, while I liked the essay by Maurizio, I cannot, and never will, see this film as an actual comedy. If anything, this is one of the most frightening movies about obsessive comulsive disorder and another grand social statement by the ever thoughtful and amazing Scorsese.
Yes, there ARE some funny moments in the film, but this more nervous absurdity than actual comedy. The film is a rather spot on look at the warped minds that base their entire lives on grabbing even the most remote recognition from established celebrity.
Yes, the performances are all terrific and DeNiro especially throws in another in a string of tour-de-force turns. The direction and cinematography are loaded with visual ingenuity and, as always, Scorsese knows where to drop a needle within the vastness of his amazing record collection to find just the right piece of music to accompany an important moment or create a mood (his use of Ray Charles rendition of COME RAIN, COME SHINE sets the perfect tone of the moral predicament and the madness of the main character).
With all that, I can tell you I LOVE this movie.
I just vehemently think this is NO comedy.
Thanks Dennis. I’m can certainly see your side of the argument, but with such a subjective genre there can only be a stalemate in these matters.
Dennis, it’s not about “obsessive comulsive disorder” (sic) – which is a harmless neurotic condition that reduces stress. It is instead about a condition called ‘Narcissistic Personality Disorder’ ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narcissistic_personality_disorder or http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eyE7SCK_OBQ ) – you are indeed right, it is a very, very scary condition – it’s most famous suffer was President Lyndon Johnson and we all know what happened in the ’60s.
With all due respect to Dennis’ position, I do myself think this is a comedy and nearly voted for it on my ballot. It’s always been one of my favorite films by Martin Scorsese. Yes it is about thwarted desires, and I see the comedy being fueled by the laack of talent shown by the protagonist. It’s also dark and cynical, but it’s a satire, which would strongly qualify it. Where I do agree with Dennis is that De Niro is extraordinary. Great job, Maurizio Roca!
The argument of whether or not a film could or should be voted as a comedy has been staged here on past threads. I remain constant on the belief that everyone calls it the way they see it. It appears that many other sites who have conducted comedy pollings have included this too. Like the film a lot, didn’t actually vote for it (could have) and compliment Maurizio Roca for his impressive handling of the darker elements.
Comedy, black. The votes define what comedy is. A lot of it is funny, but the end is chilling. I opt for a split decision: Rupert may well have become an unlikely hit but that announcer’s voice is too insistent and repetitive for that detail to be anything but Pupkin’s delusion. King has become a period piece by now because Rupert’s urge for fame would have been satisfied in some way before he had to take drastic steps at the highest level. He might have ended up one of Howard Stern’s stooges or won the YouTube lottery somehow.
Thanks to Peter, Frank, and Samuel. Split decision sounds good to me when mentioning genre classifications.
And yes Rupert would certainly appreciate this newer celebrity climate we find ourselves in during the last bunch of years.
I think Jerry Lewis shorn of his early ‘Nutty Professor’, ‘Bellboy’ persona throws a lot of people into thinking ‘The King of Comedy’ may not be comedic after all. But it is a dark, dark comedy and it made me laugh out loud several times — Pupkin with his cardboard cutouts of Minnelli etc., Bernhard’s mania. It’s a comedy, but probably not for the ‘Pink Panther’ crowd.
I concur with Mark on this. This isn’t the only black comedy that has been considered and voted on, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.
Very black comedy and not broad (more subtle in tone/vibe) which is probably part of the problem some will have over this film being in the countdown as opposed to something like Dr Strangelove. Thanks Mark and Bill.
Can this film be considered part of the comedy genre? I say yes, but let me explain. The spectrum of literature, whether it be fiction, film, or whatever, has easily definable examples at either extreme. This film is in the gray area. Call it a tragicomedy or, more accurately, perhaps, a cometragedy. Point is, the important things are not how we label things but, rather, the art and the message. (Along these lines, I’m still kicking myself for not having included Lolita on my list.)
That out of the way, I really like your essay, Maurizio. I particularly enjoy how you sum things up at the end.
Indeed, the performance by Jerry Lewis is in my opinion a great one. It was good at the time of the film’s release to see him play a more realistic character, although I’ve always enjoyed the inherent artistry of his zanier stuff, as well even though this schtick has been out of vogue for many over the years since the 1960s sort of declared him irrelevant.
The King of Comedy is a gem however it is categorized.
Above all else, what makes The King Of Comedy a spooky, chilly film is that its protagonist seems less a product of a singular example of individual isolation (Jake La Motta, for one), but more a consequence of a tainted culture that cultivates such people and societies in large quantities. It’s a satire that foreshadows a new kind of thriving self-absorption.
Maurizio, I think it’ fair to say this is one of the greatest essays you’ve ever written for this site. I have a few others in mind from the noir countdown but I this is your analytical tour de force if I might say so. I think Pierre’s carefully weighed seal of approval as far as comedic validation is concerned is most persuasive, though the ‘grey’ area that he himself delineates would tend to grant clearance for Dennis and others who are having problems with including this as a comedy. I do see it as a black comedy, and as such fully entitled to appear on this countdown. A similar question will be raised I’m sure next week for a film and essay that I am responsible for. No matter how we choose to frame it THE KING OF COMEDY is a brilliant work, and Maurizio has enhanced the literature.
Thanks, Sam. And I want to add my own additional praise for the valuable insights offered up here by Maurizio.
Thanks Sam and Pierre. I have certainly written better ones… as this was somewhat of a rush job (though the section you highlight was probably the best bit).
I can see Dennis’ point and have no problems with his doubts about The King Of Comedy. It’s certainly a borderline choice IMO.
Has no place on this list. It’s funny sometimes, but it’s not really a comedy, let’s face it. I love the film, but I’d argue for keeping the list pure. After all, comedy is already a denigrated genre, with little respect paid to its abilities. No need to muss it up with de facto dramas like this. Hell, are we gonna start calling BLUE VELVET a comedy? I mean, it’s funny! Why not?
The King Of Comedy is or isn’t an actual comedy Poll.
For: 7 initial voters, Sam, Peter, Frank, Samuel, Mark, Bill, Pierre, Jon.
Against: Dennis, Dean, and possibly two dozen voters who didn’t list it before tabulations.
Thanks for the comment Dean. And brilliant retort Jon.
Dean, it appears that you and Dennis have a strong position here, and I can’t myself contest you. The pure comedy categorization would definitely pre-empt this, and a few others that came earlier by Fellini. Fair enough.
The devil’s in the details. If we start looking for examples of pure this or that, what we end up with is a big glob of stuff in the middle. Is Juno a comedy? Well, yes . . . but. Is The Descendants a drama? Well, yes, but. . . . Categorizations aren’t drawn for the purpose of existence. We don’t label things so that we know they’re “this” or “that.” Such artificial constructs are a tool for departure, a means to an end.
Yeah the flippant manner in which I ended this essay was basically because of what you say here Mr. Plume.
Well I can’t really join into the argument on this one…cause I’ve never seen it. We certainly though have spent a great deal of time arguing for or against whether a film is a comedy. This is turning into a weekly occurrence it seems. Wonder why? My take is that nearly all of us have included on our list what could be considered great films that just happen to be funny. There are also really funny comedies that happen to be great films. I think there is a difference here. Our list has had, perhaps surprisingly, a great deal of both to this point. I think this speaks to the overwhelmingly personal take and reaction to comedy, and how to evaluate it and compare it in general. For most, it’s not just whether something is funny….but funny how? This is where we end up slitting hairs. Some don’t see certain forms of comedy to be as funny (or even meet the definition) as other forms. This list is never going to conform to one person’s ideals….and I’ve come to accept that. Doesn’t mean I won’t call a film out at some point, just means the argument is only going to go so far when it’s the opinions of a wide group of people at play.
Fine essay Maurizio and I’m intrigued to see this now.
Terrific comment Jon!
Thanks, Jon. Returning to an earlier point I made, I’m mad at myself for not including Lolita on my list — not because “it’s a comedy,” but because it’s a film worth discussing for reasons not the least of which are its comedic elements.
R.D. Laing in The Divided Self posited that madness is a sane response to the insanity that drives modern life, the obsession with celebrity, and the constant craving for validation. This film has some serious things to say, but who is listening? A comedy? If pathetic delusions are funny… What we should be itching to discover is who wrote this story? Certainly a person of wit and intelligence who fashioned a modern parable of alienation and despair. Paul Zimmerman wrote the original script and was honored with a best screenplay award from the Brits.
The sanest response is to enjoy life and make the most out of it before check out time IMO. Thanks for the comment Tony.
I would argue that THE KING OF COMEDY is a savage satire on the nature of cult of celebrity and pop culture. It eerily anticipates celebutantes like Paris Hilton and the Kardashians for being famous for doing nothing except marketing themselves as commodities. I always got the feeling that Rupert was trying to do this – market himself as a commodity and become famous, get his own show and use Langford as a means to achieving this goal.
But the problem is Rupert is such an inept boob a lot of the time but De Niro’s performance never slips into complete caricature. Once in a while you get a glimpse in the actor’s eyes that Rupert is a few cans short of a sixpack and could slip into Travis Bickle mood if given the right push. This is what, I think, elevates Rupert from being simply a one-note character. He’s kind of pathetic and Scorsese isn’t afraid to show just how pathetic he is.
Anyways, excellent essay. Now I want to watch this film again.
I can’t see why this is being contested as a comedy, but to each their own. The best comedies to me have the darker context to play off.
Extremely brilliant dark film and would have been even darker if Johnny Carson, who Scorsese wanted for the role, had accepted the challenge. My understanding is Carson thought it hit a little too close to home. As Maurizio mentions the three leads are all wonderful. This is one of my favorite DeNiro performances and Lewis plays arrogance to the hilt. Bernhard adds plenty with her quirky flavor.
John – I had not heard that Scorsese wanted Carson, which would’ve been interesting though his inclusion might have proven an unwanted distraction. Ultimately, I hope you agree that Lewis was an asset to the film.
I have also heard what John brings up here. Carson was Scorsese’s first choice. Lewis worked out well in the end to be honest.
Pierre – Nothing against Lewis. His performance worked out very well.
I’ve just watched this one and caught up with your review, Maurizio – a great piece and I’m especially interested in your comment on the ambiguity of the ending and the similarity with ‘Taxi Driver’. To me it is a great satirical black comedy, but quite hard to watch at times just because it is so sharp-edged. As well as the film looking forward to celebrity culture and reality TV, I’m wondering if Rupert’s final confessional stand-up performance influenced later comics who used this type of painful material – or was this type of act already popular at the time? I’m a bit hazy on that, but his act feels more modern than the surrounding talk show razzmatazz that he was so desperate to be part of, anyway.