Recently I watched a Scorsese film made in 1982. I had originally watched the movie in a theater with a bigger screen than what most people have in their homes these days. This was before DVD’s had arrived. Before Amazon or Hulu existed. And before Smartphones and FaceBook were a reality for billions of people on planet Earth. We may consider the context of Andy Warhol’s statement about a future where everyone will have their “15 minutes of fame” with the arrival of FaceBook.
Warhol’s prediction correlates with the film’s character, Rupert Pupkin, and this article’s premise.
IMDB summarizes the plot of “The King of Comedy” as:
“Rupert Pupkin is a passionate yet unsuccessful comic who craves nothing more than to be in the spotlight and to achieve this, he stalks and kidnaps his idol to take the spotlight for himself.”
Scorsese masterfully charts the nuances of Pupkin’s desperate desire to succeed in the entertainment industry. The story line almost seems quaint or a bit ridiculous in light of today’s media empire. After all, TV talk show hosts are now a dime a dozen, and there are a plethora of podcasters online. In short, a comic in 2022 has many more potential venues to hawk their wares and hone their craft.
Contextually, the 1982 American zeitgeist embodies a more innocent time. Fewer people questioned the prominence of television as a means to maintain a social order, or disorder, depending on one’s purview of society.
[consider how the film, “The Matrix” has become culturally symbolic re illusions maintained via some form of digital simulacrum.]
The context for time and place when viewing The King of Comedy is especially important when considering the plot line and motivations of the film’s central character. In 1982, the innocence of Rupert’s primary motive—to be “a Somebody”— may be considered in stark contrast with today’s New York City circa 2022. In consideration of the many films that are getting the biggest viewer numbers, the fantasy fiction genre indicates that superheroes, or pirates in the Caribbean, or the adventures of Hobbits are the most desirable escapist entertainment fare in today’s realm. In the sense of the fantasy genre storyline, Rupert almost seems like a dimensionless schmuck compared with Captain Jack Sparrow.
This is not to suggest that DeNiro was anything less than multidimensional and fantastically entertaining as a man who lives in his mother’s basement surrounded by cardboard cutouts of his favorite talk show host sitting opposite Liza Minnelli. Rupert is in fact a bit of a sociopath in terms of constructing his own version of reality which is at odds with the real world. Pupkin is both a fantasist and master of hopeful projection.
Anyone who has read Napolean Hill’s, “Think and Grow Rich” understands the basic premise of manifesting one’s desired goal in real time. Rupert is in many ways an optimistic dreamer who is capable of making his dreams come true in a world that doesn’t have time for him. Every artist-musician-writer-actor knows the alienation/disenfranchisement game well. Many creative souls give up after a trial of hits and misses, and then fade away into another career. Rupert however, will not give up—and he chooses to kidnap the person(TV talk show host, Jerry Langford) who stands in the way of his desired goal.
This example of success at any cost distinguishes Pupkin in a context that we might compare with John D. Rockefeller—a ruthless Oil tycoon who played an unscrupulous game in his quest for Billionaire Oligarch status. Rupert is a kinder and gentler version of an ambitious capitalist. Fame is the desired goal. The money is secondary.
I recall reading a Katherine Hepburn biography where she stated that she was driven by a desire “to be famous.” If Hepburn had not succeeded we might have considered her a “loser.”
The Winner/Loser context is the underlying psychological subplot of The King of Comedy: Jerry Langford is the big winner and Rupert Pupkin is the archetypal loser— a loser who will win in the end; even though winning is tainted with a brief prison sentence. By way of comparison, we might also look at underdog, and quintessential pirate, Jack Sparrow— how many times was he incarcerated? Sparrow’s arrests don’t matter much to the audience who cheer him on for outsmarting the establishment,.i.e., the British Monarchy. Rupert Pupkin kidnaps Langford and achieves his goal of performing his monologue for millions of television viewers, and we cheer him on for being a badass! He’s akin to any successful pirate in the end.
Pupkin represents an unshakeable will and perseverance against all odds in order to succeed in America. Pupkin is tenacious to the extreme—and yet, we admire his persistence and dogged desire to win in a game called “fame & fortune.” The desire to be a “somebody” drives Rupert’s ambitions.He is the embodiment of the streetwise dialog we have heard spoken by underdogs throughout Hollywood’s history.
The phrase, “I could’ve been a contender” comes from “Raging Bull” (featuring DeNiro as boxer Jake LaMotta. DeNiro is considered one of the great underdog character actors of the 1970’s).
The “contender” sentiment may best be remembered in “On The Waterfront”[1954] —in a monologue spoken by Terry(portrayed by Marlon Brando): “…I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody. Instead of a bum… which is what I am, let's face it."
Pupkin is committed to rise above his station in life—that of a nobody with a one way ticket to Palookaville.
In Scorsese’s film we are witness to the critical social assessments of America’s infatuation with fame. Upon reflection—40 years later—Pupkin’s unshakeable quest for fame conjures feelings of unease and a queasy sense of embarrassment for his characters’ lack of social graces, and his insincere respect for his quarry, Jerry Langford.
I say that Rupert is insincere or disingenuous towards his idol because he cares more about his own fame than any “inconvenience” he causes for Langford. Kidnapping an idol who happens to be a talk show host sounds creepy in today’s world.
In the film we see Jerry Langford (sans bodyguards) casually trotting down the busy streets of NYC. I doubt that there are many well known TV personalities that feel safe walking alone in NYC in 2022, post riots and lockdowns.
In the sense that the current American entertainment matrix has come to a place that feels like the end of an era, so too have the ambitions of men like Rupert Pupkin. Fame seems overrated for many of us average folks. Perhaps the idea of relative anonymity feels safer during what seems a time of great uncertainty, or social Reset.
Scorsese’s work from the early 70’s through 80’s seems nostalgic, and yet, still very entertaining. In consideration of a Scorsese masterpiece, “Gangs of New York”[2002], it almost seems a safer bet to make a historical film from another century in order to hedge one’s bets for the long run. Either the distant past, or the far-off sci-fi future, are both genres that will stand the test of time.
I felt a sense of nostalgic desire for a simpler past while watching Rupert Pupkin in his quest for success. And yet, a winning lotto ticket is still part of an American dream—and perhaps fame has become banal and pedestrian since anyone can post a video on YouTube. Fame and audience recognition comes cheap in 2022.