The King of Comedy Blu-ray Review

You laughin' at me?

Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman, March 19, 2014

The 1980s saw Martin Scorsese trytwice, in factto break away from his perceived role as a helmsman interested only in overtly dramatic fare. It's notable that neither of Scorsese's eighties comedies,and, has attained the flat out iconic status of some of the director's other pieces like Raging Bull or Taxi Driver , though both have their adherents, in some cases almost rabidly so. Scorsese's reputation may still rest largely on his more dramatic films, but as he's repeatedly proven as recently as with Hugo 3D and The Wolf of Wall Street , he has a flairalbeit an oftenflairfor humor and whimsy. That inherent darkness may be what doomedwith both critics and audiences, as well as its now more obviously prescient examination of a fame obsessed society which in 1983 probably seemed too fanciful to believe. The humor inisn't merely dry, it's positively Saharan, and that, coupled with two focal characters who aren't exactly warm and fuzzy, makes the film a hard sell. But for those willing to tolerate an intentional level of increasing discomfort and awkwardness,is one of Scorsese's most interesting creations, and one that has certainly aged better than might be expected, either in spite of or perhaps even because of changes in the media world. Whendebuted, Johnny Carson was still the undisputed master of late night television, and while a host of contenders had attempted to knock him off his perch, people like Joey Bishop and Merv Griffin, no one had been able to even come close. While David Letterman had begun to burnish his (actually early morning) chops on NBC'sin a companion show to Carson's iconic, it would be another ten years before there was anycompetition in the late night arena, ironically whenpassed to Jay Leno and Letterman himself moved to CBS. Having one king of the late night hill is an integral part of's setup, for Jerry Lewis portrays Jerry Langford, a stand-in for Carson whose witching hour variety show is asized monolith. Langford is idolized by hordes of fans, including a probably well meaning but seriously deluded would be comic named Rupert Pupkin (Robert De Niro). Pupkin's increasingly desperate attempts to attract Langford's interest in his supposedly burgeoning comedy career provide the impetus for much of the film's plot.Pupkin may be slightly less dangerous than Travis Bickle in, but he's probably no less of a sociopath and narcissist. A gaggle of fans regularly awaits the exit of Langford every evening at the stage door of the studio where he tapes his show, proffering autograph books and screaming for a momentary audience with their idol. When Rupert shows up, it's obvious he's a regular at such gatherings, for several others call out to him by name, asking him what his latest autograph "gets" have been. Rupert seems a bit put off by their entreaties, shutting them down with a curtand obviously falsestatement that activities like this don't comprise his entire life. When Jerry is almost mauled by an especially "enthusiastic" fan named Masha (Sandra Bernhard), Rupert steps in and physically pushes the crowd away from the star, receiving a minor injury to his hand in the process. That plays upon Langford's conscience enough to actually grant the hapless Pupkin a few minutes in Langford's limousine, where Rupert informs Langford that he's a struggling comedian who wants to appear on Langford's show.Langford is obviously not very impressed with a guy who has absolutely no professional standing or even any prior gigs to point to, and brushes him off with a cursory "call me", a too subtle irony for the literal Rupert to comprehend. Rupert starts showing up at Jerry's midtown offices, repeatedly interacting with a talent coordinator named Cathy Long (Shelley Hack), but getting no closer to Langford himself. Cathy's probably too polite dismissals of Rupert repeatedly fail to make any impact on the guy, and the film in fact spends some time showing how Rupert's obsession with Jerry has gotten to the point that he regularly fantasizes about interacting with the star as a peer and perhaps even a superior.Rupert comes off as a misguided naïf, but he starts to tip over into potentially dangerous territory when, in an attempt to impress a date named Rita (Diahnne Abbott), he actually shows up at Jerry's palatial mansion and pretends to know Jerry (who is out golfing at the time). Jerry's butler phones his employer in a panic, and Jerry, almost preternaturally calm, comes back and finally delivers an ego bursting gut punch that Rupert finally seems to understand. Instead of nursing his wounds and retreating into his lonely shell, though, Rupert teams up with Masha toJerry in a desperate gambit to finally get Rupert on Langford's show.As odd as it may sound,dances around some of the same themes that would be explored a decade or so later in another largely misunderstood (and even reviled) film, Oliver Stone's bombastic Natural Born Killers . Both films depict our society's fascination with fame, a fascination which is often divorced from any real accomplishment to bolster such renown. In 1983 this concept probably seemed outlandish; in 1994 (whenarrived), probably less so, though Stone's in your face presentation may have ultimately harmed the potent subject matter as much as it helped. In today's "fame by lottery" world (as I've previously called such sweepstakes as), this idea seems positively, and therefore's central thesis of fame for fame's sake, no matter what the means or in fact the end, probably resonates more deeply than ever before.Of course the concomitant plot device of celebrity stalking probably seemed downright absurd in 1983, though the intervening years have shown what a problem it can be (ironically one of the higher profile stalking cases involved David Letterman). What Scorsese and screenwriter Paul D. Zimmerman (an unrepentant film critic who proved that those who "can't" sometimes do more than merely teach) make clear, however, is that Langford is actually a relatively approachable and accessible celebrity. He walks the streets of Manhattan and interacts with various passersby without much pretense. In this regard, Langford is a far cry from the notoriously reclusive Carson, or even the reportedly prickly Letterman. This general geniality only makes Rupert's insistence on being paid attention to all the more provocative and, ultimately, disturbing.is not an out and out gut busting laugh-fest. Instead, it's an unsettlingly real feeling character study that has some extremely wry humor sprinkled rather liberally throughout its increasingly odd story. The film is highlighted by some disarming work by De Niro, who makes Pupkin actually weirdly lovable in his own demented way and also by Lewis (who was touted as a likely Best Supporting Actor nominee that year, a prediction that sadly failed to materialize), who underplays Langford very well, bringing some unexpectedto the role. Sandra Bernhard is completely hyperbolic and annoying, seemingly her stock in trade, though at least in this case it seems intrinsically tied to Masha's obnoxious character.