The King of Comedy
During the summer of 1982, the movie industry delivered a slate of motion pictures that balanced commercial achievement and critical acclaim, with many of these films becoming long-lasting cultural touchstones. In contrast, 1983 featured fewer theatrical standouts, but it would cap a decade of excellence for two New Hollywood legends who had both made their initial mark ten years earlier, George Lucas and Martin Scorsese. And it would serve as a pivotal year for two additional filmmakers who had also established their reputations during the director-as-auteur era, John Landis and Brian DePalma.
In early June, John Landis would follow his string of box office hits “Animal House”, “The Blues Brothers”, and “An American Werewolf in London” with the razor-sharp social satire “Trading Places”. Embraced for its clever prince and pauper exploration of wealth, privilege, and power, the film solidified Eddie Murphy’s rise as a major movie star and cemented Landis’ reputation as a leading comedic director. However, the adulation would prove short-lived, as the late June release of the “Twilight Zone” anthology turned the public’s attention back toward the apparent recklessness of Landis’ Vietnam War production and its resulting helicopter accident, leading to three avoidable deaths and years of criminal litigation. Although ultimately acquitted, the tragedy and its aftermath would forever tarnish Landis’ legacy.
Riding his own wave of recognition, with essential thrillers like “Carrie” and the underappreciated “Blow Out”, Brian DePalma had earned critical adulation as a modern master of suspense, but he would defy expectations by returning to screens in early December with a gritty, violent reimagining of the 1932 gangster film “Scarface”. Led by Al Pacino’s iconic performance as Cuban immigrant turned drug lord Tony Montana, the movie is an audacious and operatic epic, delivering a provocative and ruthless critique of the American Dream. Recognized today as a bold and influential masterwork, “Scarface” polarized audiences and divided critics with its graphic violence, intense language, and relentlessly excessive tone. Its initial mixed reception would frustrate DePalma and stunt his previous career momentum.
Possibly more than any filmmaker of the time, George Lucas began 1983 with an unbroken decade of cinematic success. Recognizing the opportunity presented by the breakthrough of “American Graffiti” in 1973, Lucas revolutionized the Hollywood industry with the dominance of “Star Wars” in 1977, and created the quintessential modern film franchise with the ambition of “The Empire Strikes Back” in 1980. Bringing the trilogy to its close in 1983, anticipation for “Return of the Jedi” was unprecedented.
With the benefit of hindsight, the final chapter of the epic saga is not a great film (suffering at times from its lighter, more playful elements), but it boasts a thrilling climax and ultimately satisfies as a fitting series conclusion. Culminating in a trio of visually stunning set pieces, “Return of the Jedi” expertly combines epic space battles with an emotionally resonant arc of redemption. Achieving an unparalleled four blockbuster streak, Lucas opted to fully step away from “directing”, shifting his focus to producing for the next two decades.
Between 1973 and 1983, while Lucas reshaped blockbuster cinema with groundbreaking spectacle and immersive world-building, Martin Scorsese pushed to expand the boundaries of character-driven storytelling, creating deeply personal and gritty commentaries on morality and society. His direction of “Mean Streets” in 1973, “Taxi Driver” in 1976, and “Raging Bull” in 1980 showcase his evolution as a visionary filmmaker, with increasingly refined cinematic technique and unforgettable performances by Robert DeNiro. With each film, Scorsese dug deeper in the exploration of urban violence, inner turmoil, and flawed masculinity, reaching its inevitably dark and unsettling destination with “The King of Comedy” in 1983.
“The King of Comedy” follows aspiring stand-up comedian Rupert Pupkin, played with an unnerving intensity by DeNiro, a failed loner who obsessively dreams of fame and recognition and is convinced a meeting with talk show host Jerry Langford (a fictionized version of Johnny Carson) will provide him with the break he deserves and the adoration he lacks. When conventional attempts fail to gain Langford’s attention, Pupkin devises a desperate plan to kidnap his idol in a bid to secure a guest spot on the show and prove his worth to the world. His plan succeeds, finally getting him his moment in the spotlight, delivering an ending that leaves the consequences of his actions decidedly ambiguous.
Despite its comedic premise, the undertone is bleak and cynical, wrestling with themes of loneliness and rejection. Unlike Scorsese’s previous fast paced dramas, the film unfolds at a slower, more uncomfortable rhythm, emphasizing the inherent desperation of unfulfilled ambition. In the end, its genius lies in its ability to flawlessly blur the line between comedy and tragedy, serving as a masterwork of tension and awkwardness, as well as a bold critique of celebrity culture and the media’s role in shaping public perception.
Decades ahead of its time, “The King of Comedy” is fearless in its unflinching portrayal of a protagonist who is both deeply delusional and disturbingly relatable. The film challenges the viewer to confront uncomfortable truths, refusing to glorify it characters or soften its biting tone. Offering no easy answers or clear moral lessons, it remains Scorsese’s most daring and prescient work.
Recognized for its brilliance by several critics upon its theatrical release, the film’s dark, satirical atmosphere, paired with its departure from Scorsese’s more intense, violent fare, left initial audiences puzzled and disconnected. Unnerved by its reception, distributing company 20th Century Fox quickly pulled the film from screens, resulting in Scorsese’s most significant commercial disappointment. Following on the heels of “Raging Bull’s” financial underperformance, the weak box office response would push the director toward more accessible and mainstream films in the 1980s.
Over time, repeated home viewings and critical reappraisals allowed audiences to appreciate its humor and edge, establishing the film as a prophetic masterpiece and cementing its place in Scorsese’s revered body of work. As the cap to the greatest four film director-actor run in cinema, “The King of Comedy” stands apart from time, more provocative and relevant today than ever before.