Review of The King of Comedy (1982) by Issac L — 16 May 2013

Scorsese and De Niro's less appreciated opus, a box-office dead-on-arrival upon its release, after RAGING BULL (1980, 8/10), Scorsese decisively contemplated to change the lane from the bloodbath sport-drama fest, so it comes this black comedy, an unsung maniac-opportunist-comedian Rupert Pupkin (De Niro), disillusioned by his hankering friendship with the on-the-job talk show host Jerry Langford (Lewis), colludes with the radical Jerry fanatic Masha (Bernhard), they kidnap him and extort the show runner to allot ten minutes for Rupert to perform his monologue on TV, and unlike any other plans usually go awry in order to leave room for twists, Scorsese and writer Paul D. Zimmerman instrument an ambiguous comeuppance thanks to the film's shrewd amalgam of reality and hallucination.

As a pungent satire to the instant showbiz fame and the celebrity's overwrought mental condition with the autograph hounds and devout stalkers, the film is an eloquent body of work in manipulating its viewer's empathetic oscillation between Pupkin and Langford, for instance, on the one hand, I feel repellent towards Jerry's hubris and snootiness (his deadly oomph towards women is something I could never understand, what a great job for Bernhard to deliver the madness in front of such a distasteful sine qua non), on the other hand, when put myself in his shoes, the nettlesome Pupkin is a parasite-like cipher one instinctively despises. The same could be transposed with Pupkin, one moment you regard him as a deadbeat chatterbox by badgering Jerry, next scene you feel sorry for him because we know Jerry will shatter his dreams sooner or later, and when that dramatic moment eventually happens, the interplay among Pupkin, Jerry and Rita (Pupkin's love interest played by De Niro's then-wife Abbott) is spontaneous, awkwardly cringing and impeccably acted.

De Niro has unwaveringly forsaken his acting skill since his glorious years (70s to 80s), a committed incarnation of a stand-up comedian in his hard-earned live stint, but an overall, his comedian bent may be not as hyped as he claims, at least, not ground-breaking enough to be at a king's level, thus making the ending resound with a more cynically suspicious irony. De Niro's methodological strenuousness seems to be markedly discordant with Lewis' more naturalistic instinct-driven skill, which actually is an opportune win-win situation both for the comic vein and for the actors, they are ranking high in my respective categories. Also Bernhard is spectacular in her nut's sickly possessiveness despite of her less-limned backstory, maybe she is a much qualified comedian than her pal.

An unfeigned delight to watch this film and to revere more towards Mr. Scorsese, whose all-purpose greatness is an unerring beacon to guide his disciples and an insatiable lure to his ceaseless fan club recruits.