All the movies Martin Scorsese and Robert
De Niro made together seem to fit into two categories: gangster films (Mean Streets, Goodfellas or Casino) and
bleak movies about ultraviolent anti-heroes (Taxi Driver, Raging Bull
and Cape Fear). Good as these films
were – and some are among the best ever made – they give the impression that
there was a limit to what the two could do together. But then there’s The King of Comedy, a weird little early
eighties film that shows the breadth of talent and skill these artists
possessed.
It’s the story of a wannabe comedian
named Rupert Pupkin (played by De Niro) who’s desperate to land a spot on The Jerry
Langford Show, a late-night variety program along the lines of The Tonight Show, with Jerry Lewis as
the Johnny Carson-like host. Unlike many of the characters De Niro has played
in Scorsese films, Pupkin is kind of a putz. He has a silly mustache, combs his
hair over to one side and wears dorky sports coats and slacks. And he lives
with his mom. In one classic scene, he turns on a tape recorder in his room and
pretends he’s being interviewed by Langford, only to be interrupted by her
shouting at him from the living room. “Mom!” Pupkin shouts back in a
teenager-worthy whine that sounds incredibly funny and a little bit creepy
coming from a 34-year-old man. As a comedian, Pupkin is a walking flop; he uses
canned lines everyday on strangers, and they all induce groans. Yet Pupkin
quickly reveals himself to be a menacing character, and after a series of very,
very uncomfortable run-ins with Langford, he and another insane fan named Masha
(played brilliantly by Sandra Bernhard) kidnap the TV star and hold him until
Pupkin is offered an appearance on the show.
The King of Comedy is also a cinematic departure from other
Scorsese works; it lacks the aggressive camera work and editing of his
classics. Still, I rate it among his best, mostly because it’s a masterpiece of
dramatic tension. From the beginning scene, when Pupkin muscles his way into
Langford’s limo and begs for a chance to be on his show, this movie seethes
with tension right through to the end. Part of this is due to the
outrageousness of the kidnap plot, but it owes more to the acting and the
subtlety of the script. In that early scene where Pupkin and Langford are in a
limo together, for example, face to face for the first time, their motivations
are so clear – Langford’s to be left alone, Pupkin’s to be accepted – that the
clash between them is vivid and stark. Yet the scene keeps going beyond
probability because the Langford character is just enough of a mensch to not
kick Pupkin out of the car, and Pupkin is just enough of a psycho to not pick
up on Langford’s vibe and just sane enough to appeal to Langford’s inner mensch.
It’s a complex social interaction, but De Niro and Lewis make it look easy and
natural. It takes a lot of skill to pull off that kind of scene. I also rank it
high on my list of top Scorsese films because it’s wickedly smart and funny.
Smart because he’s basically giving us a crime thriller in a comedy’s clothing.
And it’s very funny, though darkly and ironically so. Some of the funniest
lines and scenes are funny precisely because Pupkin is not funny. His jokes
bomb hilariously, and some of the wittiest zingers are aimed at Pupkin’s lame
humor. So it’s kind of a meta-film: a dark thriller about comedians that’s as
hilarious and scary as can be.
- Joe Miller
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