8/1/09

The King of Comedy.

The King of Comedy is probably the best film I’ve ever seen based upon a psychotic individual. Yes there is Scorsese’s earlier masterpiece, Taxi Driver, which also stars Robert De Niro as the obsessive and lonely Travis Bickle, but in The King of Comedy, De Niro’s character (Rupert Pupkin) is even more scary and delusional than Travis Bickle. For one thing, we’re not sure when he’s ever going to “snap,” and while Bickle seemingly goes after those he views as “corrupt,” Pupkin goes after anyone who gets in his way.

The King of Comedy is an excellent portrayal of the shallow culture’s value on fame and what defines one’s “success.” Scorsese also makes it a double-whammy when Pupkin is ultimately able to personally profit off his crimes, where he is then lauded with fame and a million dollar book deal. So in the end, if we’re approaching this from a point of view of a corrupt individual who views success as the mere achievement of wealth and fame, then Rupert Pupkin wins it all.

The film begins when Pupkin is able to sneak his way into the famous comedian Jerry Langford’s car, (played by Jerry Lewis) and Pupkin then pitches his idea of a show to him. Basically, we learn early on that Pupkin is not so much concerned with being a great comedian as he is about being a famous one. Langford listens to Pupkin reluctantly, and then tells him to call his office and speak with his secretary. We then get glimpses into Pupkin’s fantasies, where he is imagining Langford asking him to host his show for six weeks, as a favor to him.


These fantasies are normal, and seemingly harmless, only Pupkin does not know when to stop. The next day he spends several times calling Langford’s office, but he is unable to get through. He eventually goes down in person to ask and see him, making it seem as though he is some kind of friend of Langford and that Langford has been expecting him. The film does a great job of showing the snobbery of the “industry,” for while Pupkin himself is pushy and ruins his chances of any possible future with these specific individuals by way of his aggressive attitude, the film shows how difficult it really is for the “common person” to literally get through the door.

When Langford’s secretary agrees to listen to Pupkin’s tape, we get more fantasies where Langdon is telling Pupkin “I don’t know how you do it.” Ultimately, however, his secretary rejects his work, telling him he needs to polish his act. Pupkin is unwilling to accept her no for an answer and insists on seeing Langford. Eventually, he is removed from the building by force.

The next day Pupkin makes a surprise “visit” at Langdon’s house, bringing along his love interest, Rita (albeit unrequited), telling her that Langdon has invited them both to his house. Pupkin pushes his way through the house staff, and is unable to accept that Langdon wants him to leave his property, or else he will have him arrested. It is this act, coupled with Langdon’s unwillingness to listen to Pupkin’s act, that forces Pupkin and Masha (another obsessed Langdon fan, played by Sandra Bernhard) to abduct Langdon. In exchange for Langdon’s return, Pupkin requests that he be allowed to perform as the opening act on Langdon’s show as The King of Comedy. His jokes are bad, but not bad enough to be parody, as De Niro delivers them with sincerity, and we then know that Pupkin is just a wannabe who wants the easy way in, rather than having to work for it.


The film ends brilliantly, with Pupkin’s arrest, but he is able to get out after two years. Following his release, he is offered a million dollar book deal, he is labeled a “household name,” he is on the cover of every newspaper and magazine in the country, and in the end, it appears he’s earned his own special slot in the comedy world.

Critics love to pontificate about the “truth” in art, and I can’t think of a more “truthful” and honest representation of the shallow culture than what happens to Pupkin in this film. After all, it’s never been about quality, and Pupkin knows this. It’s always been about fame and money and ephemeral things as those, because that is what the culture values. It doesn’t matter how great you are or how terrible you are. What Pupkin wants is what any wannabe wants: merely the shallow approbation that reaffirms his life’s meaning. And this is why Pupkin is not a real artist.

Why do so many feel the need to search for the blind approbation from others? In the scene when Langdon throws Pupkin out of his house, Pupkin replies with, “I’m going to be fifty times more famous than you.” He was right. And what does it say for a culture that rewards the talentless? Just look at the history of the publishing industry for that one.