In particular, identify what it was about The King of Comedy that you liked the most. Be specific. Maybe it's a particular scene, a performance, the script, an aesthetic choice (editing, camerawork, sound, etc.) - whatever the case, just let me know the one aspect of the film you most liked and briefly explain why.
Also, in this past week's reading from Scorsese on Scorsese, the director talks about how he and his friends have a running joke about referring to slow movies (those where the camera doesn't move much) as "mature." Scorsese read in the Village Voice that Jim Jarmusch said something like, "I'm not interested in taking people by the hair and telling them where to look." In response, Scorsese says, "Well, I do want them to see the way I see. Walking down the street, looking quickly about, tracking, panning, zooming, cutting and all that sort of thing. I like it when two images go together and they move."
At the conclusion of your response, let me know whose side you're on - Jarmusch's or Scorsese's? And briefly explain your choice.
I look forward to reading what you write - by no later than midnight on Monday, March 14.
I was disappointed to hear that this film didn’t do well because its message is extremely powerful.It’s presenting us with the dangers of celebrity obsession while also making us question why fame or recognition is important to people. At some point while watching the film, we think about the ways in which we’ve admired celebrities and why. I definitely agreed with Darren in his video essay when he said that this film was ahead of its time. Celebrity obsession has reached new heights with the developing of new technology. There are so many ways of tracking a celebrity’s every move. Through Snapchat, Instagram/Instagram Story, and Twitter, we are able to access aspects of their personal lives. They are personally giving us a look into their lives unlike the unsolicited attention from the the paparazzi.
ReplyDeleteI found The King of Comedy to be very disturbing because of how delusional Rupert is about himself and his idea of fame. He imagines conversations with Jerry and believes that they have formed a genuine relationship. He has cardboard cutouts of celebrities as friends. There were so many unhealthy elements of Rupert’s and Masha’s character. Something that was particularly disturbing about Rupert was him showing up at Jerry’s home uninvited and not seeing anything wrong with it. Jerry is clearly visibly upset, but Rupert doesn’t believe that he wants him to leave. Rupert is failing to realize that Jerry doesn't owe him anything. That’s something that people continuously fail to realize about celebrities now. People tend to focus on celebrities being rich and famous rather than celebrities being human beings like us. In Rupert’s case, he sees recognition as the value of fame rather than fortune. While doing his standup toward the end of the film, he states “ better to be king for a night than a schmuck for life”. It’s dangerous for us to think that we would have more value as a celebrity than as a non-celebrity.
I’m on Scorsese’s side in regards to making people see what/how you what them to see, because I think a major part of being a filmmaker is sharing your artistic/personal voice.
There isn't a booming soundtrack like we’ve heard in his previous film and the aesthetic of this film is pretty neutral, but what makes this a Scorsese film is that he continues to make the lives of his characters relatable in some form or another. One of my favorite scenes in the film is when Rupert is pretending to be in front of a crowd and the camera slowly pans away from him. He is completely dissociated from the reality of being a celebrity. At the end of the film as he’s standing in his red suit on stage, I couldn’t help but feel that he was now doomed by his celebrity.
If you want to be famous, you must be crazy. This is how I feel about the film. Rupert has the illusion that he is Jerry's partner and competitor. He believes this and live on this. Usually people would give up if they've been rejected once. Rupert never give up. He always passionate and get ready. The fantasy is his motivation, his belief, and dream. he is so positive that I never see him been frustrated or angry or sad. When he shows his signature to his girlfriend, he didn't feel humiliation though she didn't realized that's his name. He goes to Jerry's office and tried so many times and always smile. That must be the hardest thing in the world- keep smile but always be failed. Also it is satire that if you want to be the king of comedy, your real life must be pathetic, you must experience the worst thing and make joke about them. The audience would laugh on that. Verse, as the real king of comedy, I never see Jerry smiles off screen. So, the end of the film when Rupert stands on the stage. He has this kind of embarrassment, un settling. He is losing his smile. He reached out his dream, but he is scared about this. He just dreamed of stand next to Jerry but never beat him. Now he wins and he doesn't know what to do with this. I think he will become the next Jerry and lose his smile later.
ReplyDeleteIn terms of the discussion between Jarmusch and Scorsese. I agree with Scorsese. Whenever you shoot something, you must want to tell the audience what do you think or what you want to say about this. when you tell a story through the camera. The camera always follows the story and motion. Because behind the camera is director's mind. There is no random thing in movie. it is always on purpose.
What surprised me most from this film is that I wasn’t as shocked as I think I should have been. I was really interested in the narrative and what this film was representing way before it’s time. What was once a 1982 satire has become a 2017 reality. I also felt some similar disconnect with Taxi Driver because that character is more common in today’s society with the influx of gun violence. While the celebrity culture has always, to some extent, existed, I believe it has only escalated. By example of the recent election and the strange interest with people like the Kardashians, I think this film represents the psychological delusion that comes from watching. I think if human existence is a competition, people like Rupert feel like they need to “win”, or at least know the “winners”. One of my favorite shots is when Rupert is “performing” in front of the large wall of audience members. While they are just pictures, in his mind they are very much real and their laughter is not just in his head.
ReplyDeleteSimilar to Taxi Driver, the film is an introspective look at Rupert Pupkin’s mind. His strange room in his (mother’s) house is decorated with cut-outs and a recording area, where he is preparing for his success. During the screening, I was cringing at how strange it felt watching him act out his fantasy.
The King of Comedy did make me feel very uncomfortable because it was a complete
The conversation about a “mature” film is interesting because I think both ideas are valid. Personally, I think a film succeeds when you balance the obscurity and defined direction to a piece. As a director you want to maintain an image and “direct” the audience, otherwise it becomes a one-dimensional photograph. However, sometimes you want to allow room for audience interpretation.
Martin Scorsese’s “The King of Comedy” Was a huge critique on celebrity culture and in a way sought the future of how people view celebrities now. It is very interesting that Rupert only became famous after committing the crime of holding his favorite comedian hostage. For example, the film depicts him on magazines and having his own show after he gets enough news coverage for his ridiculous behavior. Scorsese is making a statement about celebrity obsession and how there is a loss of real art. Much like the film “Taxi Driver”, how Travis Bickle is solidified as a hero and local celebrity after he has murdered some people. This film was way ahead of its time by showing us what has become of Hollywood now. People are getting famous by doing ridiculous things and there is no real sense of talent or “true” art. Similarly, to how the media gets more coverage on the murderer than the victim and the more books on serial killers than who they harmed. I mean no wonder there is so much violence in the world…people want to be famous. Additionally, Rupert states a line when he is on stage that I believe sums up the message of this movie well. He says something like “It is better to be a king for a night, than to be a shmuck for a life time” and there is some huge irony to this because Rupert will always be a shmuck. Moreover, I believe Scorsese was further trying to prove the point that there is and will be a lot of schmucks that will become famous.
ReplyDeleteOne of my favorite shots of this movie was the freeze frame in the beginning where you see Rupert on the other side of a car door framed between hands. This shot does a magnificent job setting up the film because it creates a sense of dualism and I believe that is what “The King of Comedy” is about. What’s real? What’s fantasy? Who’s the celebrity? Who’s not? Additionally, the ending is very similar to “Taxi Driver” because in a way it can be played off as a fantasy.
I agree with both Jim Jarmusch and Matin Scorsese. I think it’s important to shoot things specifically within the frame to have the audience notice it as well as have them participate and create their own meaning from it. I think it depends on the type of film you are making. I believe Martin and Jim are both making a point with the way they choose to direct…just because Jim doesn’t like to specify an area for audience members to look at, doesn’t mean his film doesn’t have a purpose.
King of Comedy is my favorite Scorsese film. I always wished that he had done more comedies because when he does they are magnetic, unnerving, and as wild as a film can be; King of Comedy, After Hours, and Wolf of Wall Street all rise to the occasion to surpass being a "comedy" and becoming epics in the vein of Cecil B Demille in terms of scope and emotional grandeur.
ReplyDeleteKing of Comedy is an interesting end to what I call "The DeNiro Trilogy". Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, and King of Comedy are all intense character studies that exist in the twisted point of view of their protagonist. King of Comedy plays like a comedic tilted remake of the first two, where DeNiro's delusions grow and eventually erupt in violence (previously a shoot out, and self harm in a boxing ring now replaced with kidnapping a celebrity). All three of the films also end on a similarly dreamlike ending where the protagonist gets everything they want, but are so steeped in their own delusion it leaves the audience with an ambiguous dread about what happened and what will happen to our protagonist.
I also find this to be DeNiro's finest hour as an actor. After a career of playing tough guys with tortured souls, he plays Pubkin with such a vulnerability and visible pain, that in the end when we see his comedy act, his entire psyche comes into focus and we retroactively understand the pain and causes of Pubkin's psyche, something we never get with Taxi Driver or Raging Bull.
But aside from the similarities to his other work, Scorsese's use of thematic here is razor sharp, showing us those who want fame, and those who have it and how no one is happy wherever they are. We all have our own delusions, some just stop short of enacting them. In regards to the idea that slower films are more mature, which seems like an in joke with the fellow directors, I find that Scorsese's chose to slow down in King of Comedy makes perfect sense for the emotions he wants to evoke. These long drawn out sequences with Pubkin frequently keeping a conversation going and digging a deeper hole occur often, and by holding his shots Scorsese keeps us just as trapped as Pubkin's victim, he does not allow us an escape from the uncomfortable. Also, I find the Mel Brooks quote about comedy to hold very true, "Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you fall into an open sewer and die". The idea that when you get intimate and close up, comedy and pain becomes tragic because we associate ourselves with the emptied pain. But in a wide shot, we can disassociate, and that distance allows laughter. So mature? Im not sure, but effective, definitely.
It’s incredibly hard for me to choose what about this film I liked best, but I think if I’d have to narrow it down to one thing, it would be Robert Deniro’s performance. Contrasting him in Raging Bull to The King of Comedy is like looking at two complete different people. He’s generally known for playing these macho, violent men, and yet, here is being just as convincing as a complete and utter oddball. I loved getting to see this other side of him, a comical side in which I haven’t really seen before in his work. My favorite scenes were the ones where Rupert were in his basement, engulfed in fantasy conversations with cut-outs of Liza Minelli and Jerry Langford. There’s something about his character that, despite his oddities, is really relatable and endearing.
ReplyDeleteI definitely agree with Scorsese. When you make a movie, you want to elicit specific emotions in the audience and cinematography is a great way to do this. Exactly like he said, you have a vision in your head that you want everyone to see and by carefully planning out specific shots, you’re able to recreate the environment within your mind. When I first write a script, I often think about where the camera is going to be and what positions would best portray the scene in the way that I imagine it. Though screenwriters have little to no power over such things, I still like to write it out for my own sake.
Looking back on The King of comedy, the thing that stood out to me right away, and then even more after the film was over was the opening scene. I loved this scene for a couple reasons. The first was because it paralleled the story so interestingly. Rupert is in the crowd of people who have this fanatical fascination for Jerry and he’s so cool and calm about his admiration; he seems like the complete opposite to all the crazed fans, yet in retrospect he set it all up so that he could get the ride with Jerry to put his foot in the door. Scorsese sets you up to think Rupert is sane and stable, then he slowly peels the layers back to show you his true character. Once he’s in the door, we as the audience along with Jerry begin to see and experience that Rupert is desperate and a little off. His manipulation of the situation showed that he was in fact crazier than all the fans who Jerry was attempting to get away from. Rupert basically performed for us and Jerry in the very first scene, and there’s an escalated repetition that happens over the course of the film that builds up from that moment all the way to the point where he performs at the end; that performance is also only possible because he manipulates that situation as well.
ReplyDeleteI also loved the shot in this scene that has Rupert on the other side of the glass with the hand on his face as the flash from the camera illuminates him. This shot is interesting because it’s a motif for what Rupert wants. He desires the fame and exposure that Jerry has, he wants people to know him as a household name. The hand touching the face through the glass is a metaphor for the love fans have with their celebrities to the extent where just touching the T.V screen makes them feel close to that person. Rupert is that person touching the glass and Jerry is him in this shot. Rupert feels that way about Jerry, but he also he also envies that power and respect that accompanies the level of fame Jerry has. This moment sets the audience up for the latter, which Rupert talks about, and attempts to acquire throughout the entire film.
As far as the discussion between Scorsese and Jarmusch, I think they both have valid points, though I agree more with Scorsese. I think you want to create imagery and give the audience cues and direction on where they should look and what they should be paying attention to. However, there should also be something organic that occurs in the sense that an audience scans the frame, delves into imagery, and creates some meaning for themselves. The downside to the latter is that this sort of movie making can allow the audience to miss elements in the narrative that you as the director may feel is essential to the experience you are trying to provide and create. In the end, I think you must work to find the median, or figure out what style works best for the tone of your film.
The thing I loved most about The King of Comedy, was the idea of obsession. Pupkin is obsessed with wanting to become like the comedians he admires, that he goes as far as to kidnap Jerry Lewis to high jack his comedy show. Even more then that, not unlike all of us, he fantasizes about being social with these people and picturing himself better then them. Honestly that was one of my favorite parts of the movie, because in the shots we are taken out of the real world of Rupert Pupkin and we get a glimpse of what he wants to be. I also enjoyed how his mother yelling down to him is what takes us back to the real world. Further more, like most of Scorsese's films I can see the element of himself within Pupkin. Maybe not to the degree of kidnaping and high jacking a national television show, but the obsession is there. We've talked about in class Scorsese's obsession to film and how it molded him to the film maker he is today, but I feel the reason he doesn't engage as much in this movie as his others is because he knows how real the obsession Pupkin has because it's one of his own. To that point I do agree with Scorsese, as a film maker I do want to grab the hair of the audience and say look at the world I am viewing, through m eyes so I can tell you a story you never thought of looking at in this light, look at this tale of real life pain, anguish, love, and desire, and see what I see. Finally, most moments in Scorsese's films show the close up of a characters face, no dialogue only expression. In this case Pupkin's face says everything without him having to say a word to us. It's a face of regret and remorse, here he is in his dream ideal of life and he is miserable. Standing there in is bright red suit, almost to symbolize his own hell he has created for himself. King of Comedy wasn't like most of Scorsese's films but it defiantly had me question my own obsessions, and my own idea on how to develop a character.
ReplyDeleteThe King of Comedy was a slight change of pace for Scorsese yet he still brought his tool to the forefront of this 1982 film. Robert De Niro plays the socially awkward and unaware Rupert Pupkin obsessed with Jerry Lewis essentially playing himself. The film is full of dream sequences that often cause the viewer to be unsure of what is really happening in the story. It's difficult to choose one particular scene that is my favorite in the film. I really enjoy the scene of Rupert imagining a dinner with Jerry and being offered the show for a few months when he is truly in his room at home. The comedy of this scene is piled on when his mother chimes in as well. The other scene I think is the most powerful is when Rupert has kidnapped Jerry and simply tells him that this all could have been avoided if Jerry met with Rupert or at least listened to the tape. This scene blew me away with its ability to turn the situation on its head for a moment. Jerry is literally being held at gunpoint by two stalkers yet Rupert is able to make the audience feel as though he is the victim nd not Jerry.
ReplyDeleteI agree more with Jarmusch to a certain extent. Even without extreme camera movement there is a way to make your audience look at one part of the frame over another. There are tricks of framing and lighting that will cause the viewer's eye to focus on one part of the image over another. I feel the cinematographic style that Scorsese is talking about can be too jarring and forceful for most films where subtlety reigns supreme.
I had been meaning to watch this film for awhile. This will definitely go down as one of my favorite Scorsese films. I think dark comedy is Scorsese at his best. Even in his Thrillers/Dramas he still manages to make me laugh. Normally his films are mostly dark with some humor. But this film is flipped, and is mostly humor but has a dark tone through out. I love how Scorsese shot the fantasy scenes. It's not shot flashy, or over dramatic. You are seeing it from Rupert's perspective. The fantasy conversation between Rupert and Jerry near the beginning of the film set up this recurring way of showing the fantasy sequences. The scene is a conversation between Rupert and Jerry, but takes place in two different locations, to hint at the fact that it isn't actually happening.
ReplyDeleteDe Niro's performance was amazing as always, but I think this is definitely one of my favorites of his performances. The authenticity and honesty that he puts into the performance makes the film that much funnier, and that much more disturbing. The scene that showcases this best is when Rupert is fantasizing about being on a talk show, with celebrity cut outs next to him. De Niro interacts with them so believably that we laugh, but also feel uncomfortable. I think it would have been easier to take this role and act it in a way of 'look how crazy and extreme this guy is. Let's laugh at him.' Instead, De Niro is able to find a connection with the role and present Rupert in a believable, realistic manner. Which is partially why it did not do so well at the box office. If people are going to see a movie about a crazy person, they want to laugh at them. They don't want to feel uncomfortable or disturbed.
I agree with Scorsese when it comes to camera movement. I think when you take on the role of director, you are saying, "I will guide the audience through this film. I will make sure they see it from the best angles/POV possible." If you do not take on this responsibility, I think you are not doing your full job as a director. People go to the movies to be told where to look. Or else they would go to a play. But even in plays they have ways of telling you where to look, whether it be set design, staging, or lighting. I think there are definitely scenes or shots that would benefit from letting the audience explore the screen, and not to "take people by the hair". But even then, you should use more subtle ways to show the audience where the most information is on the screen. Overall, Scorsese is a bold director who takes chances, and treats the camera not just as the frame we see the film through, but an object that's movement can add to a film's feeling. Jarmusch is more of a minimalist filmmaker. Both are valid ways to make film. A lot of it comes down to what kind of stories you are trying to tell, and what type of filmmaking will serve it best. Personally, I connect more with Scorsese's way of filmmaking, and find that it allows you to have more tools for telling a story which never hurts.
After my first viewing last Tuesday, I was surprised me how underappreciated The King of Comedy is in Martin Scorsese’s filmography. I hadn’t even heard of the film until being told about it by my girlfriend. The movie is another one of Scorsese’s enigmatic combinations of traumatizing drama and absurd comedy, similar in tone to works like Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore and The Wolf of Wall Street. In fact, I was surprised at how similar the film was structurally to some of Scorsese’s other works, specifically, Taxi Driver.
ReplyDeleteBoth films feature a desperate, lonely protagonist, (both played by Robert De Niro) trying to find meaning in their life through their perverted visions of success. Where Taxi Driver runs with it’s Freudian themes of sexual repression and represents them with Travis’s watercolor visions of New York City, The King of Comedy deals with a character with a similar vision, but one who’s obsession is his career, his comedy. Scorsese masterfully adapts his style to match the obsession of his character. The fantasy sequences aren’t done in an oversaturated, over stylized way like they are in Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, instead, the only exaggerated feature of the scenes is the dialog. De Niro’s character, Rupert Pupkin, creates fantasies where he is admired and idolized by the people he respects, namely, Jerry Lewis’s character, Jerry Langford. This dream is in stark opposition to the reality, where Pupkin’s idols only know he exists through his annoying and invasive antics.
Jarmusch’s argument has an artistic rationality behind it, but I believe gives the audience too much liberty. Ideally, people would be able to see the subversive themes and ideas in every story on film, but the fact is that when you’re average movie goer see’s a Jim Jarmusch film, they’re likely going to walk out saying, “I didn’t get it.” Scorsese’s films don’t have this problem nearly as often because they are clear in their visual motivation on a subconscious level. When your average movie goer watches the opening to Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, they can immediately identify that something is wrong with the scene. Sometimes, stories need to be told with purpose in order to achieve clarity in the collective mind of the audience, and if that requires grabbing the their heads and telling them where to look, so be it.
I was delightfully surprised by “The King of Comedy”. I really didn’t know what to expect from it. I had never even heard of the film before this class and from the stills of the movie, I sort of determined in my head that it was going to be a film about stand up comedy, similar to something like “Funny People” which I thought would be a weird step in Scorsese’s career. During the first half of the screening, I was struggling to find anything that would make the film resonate with me as a Scorsese picture. The only thing I felt was similar to other Scorsese films was that Rupert Pupkin, much like other characters in his filmography, was very stubborn and didn’t really listen to people who would tell him ‘no’. But then he pulled out a gun and took Jerry Lewis hostage. At that moment, I definitely realized that this was a Scorsese picture and started picking up on missed connections that I didn’t make earlier in the movie that would have lead me to the same conclusion.
ReplyDelete“The King of Comedy” is sort of like “Taxi Driver” in terms of aesthetics. They are both attempts at creating a dream state for the audience. However, while “Taxi Driver” was more like a nightmare, “The King of Comedy” was more like day dreaming. The sequences of fantasy were probably my favorite scenes in the film. Typically, by the end of a fantasy sequence in a film, the audience will usually feel tricked towards the end when there is a moment when the audience can clearly determine that the character is dreaming or imagining something. I admire that Scorsese doesn’t use this common cliche. What he goes for is very grounded, and in my opinion, more realistic. He just lets those scenes play out as if they are a part of the standard timeline of the film. There is never a moment when Scorsese pulls the rug out from under the audience and tells them that they’ve been duped, and for a film like this there really shouldn’t be a moment like that anyway. Scorsese is intending to put the audience in the mind of Rupert. His fantasies play out as scenarios that randomly pop into his head, just as they randomly pop into the film. It is a very relatable interpretation of day dreaming as I too have those little moments where I imagine meeting my idols.
As for the Jarmusch versus Scorsese debate, I don’t feel comfortable picking one side over another. I feel that picking sides discredits the other option that you don’t pick and, when it comes to art, everyone has the freedom to do things their own way. That being said, with the films I make, I definitely tend to do things more similar to Scorsese. I like camera movement and often use it as a strong tool to set the pace of the stories I tell.
This is my first time watching The King of Comedy, I honestly did not know what to expect coming into this film. I loved the beginning, when they decided to create a still frame in the middle of utter chaos and introduce the movie. Seeing the character Masha clawing at Jerry Lewis and Robert De Niro, you slowly realize that this movie is going to be an odd comedy movie. I wouldn’t necessarily call this movie my favorite Scorsese film, but I can see it going up there with Taxi Driver and Goodfellas.
ReplyDeleteThe film feels like it has a connection with Taxi Driver, you can see a lot of Travis Bickle in Rupert Pupkin. Both were outsiders trying to achieve something, and they are both willing to go to the extreme end to earn it. Don’t forget the ending, the audience won’t really know, if it’s in the protagonist’s head, or have they finally got their happy ending.
Overall I enjoyed the movie, I am usually a sucker for dark comedies, and this movie filled that role. That ending comedy routine was so surreal and unsettling. Pupkin was putting his heart out there on the line, telling us his rough childhood, and all we could do was laugh.
I agree with Scorsese, in regards to making people see what you what them to see. In order for the audience to connect with the movie and its characters, they need to see and understand what’s going on. I believe the camera is an extension of the directors will, nothing is an accident, every movement and focus of the camera needs to have a purpose.
I went into The King of Comedy knowing I was going to like it, I’m not sure why, I think it was just a sort of gut feeling. There were three aspects of the film that drew me in the most: the performances, the cinematography, and the precarious balance of tone. I definitely think that this was the most impressive and enthralling performance I’ve ever seen from Robert DeNiro. Although his work has always been captivating, I have found myself somewhat unable to connect to the characters he has played, and therefore, I had a hard time buying into the performances 100%. But there was just something about Rupert Pupkin that I couldn’t take my eyes away from. I feel like it’s because there’s a little bit of Rupert in all of us. Everyone can be obsessive about something, but Rupert is just the human embodiment of that part of us taken to the extreme. I love all of the fantasy sequences of him talking to Jerry, but I have played out those exact fantasies in my mind with some of the people I admire most. It’s so human and that’s why I think I find it so arresting.
ReplyDeleteThe reason I bring up the cinematography was because I think it was slightly less manic than what we’re used to with Scorsese, and I like that change. The use of color was also gorgeous. I mean, those ridiculous pastel suits Rupert wears? Trashy, wonderful, and somehow so revealing about who Rupert is; bright and sunny, somehow, but also slightly off.
As for the tone, I have always been someone who has a really hard time stomaching scenes that are meant to cause secondhand embarrassment. I always find myself way too uncomfortable to enjoy the scene fully, but here, I didn’t mind it. Although he embarrassed himself over and over, I always found myself laughing instead of looking away. I guess that also speaks to DeNiro’s magnetic performance. I think also Rupert’s over-eagerness and delusions of grandeur juxtapose perfectly with Jerry Lewis’ steely, no bullshit performance. He never tries to get funny with Rupert, he is always deadly serious. And there’s something about the contrast in their dynamic that made every uncomfortable moment between them impossible to look away from.
I don’t find myself to be on any particular side of the Jarmusch v. Scorsese argument. I think it’s very important for a director to have a point of view, but I think that point of view can be individual to the director. Jarmusch likes to wander and let the audience come to their own conclusions about what they’re seeing, which is a valid perspective to have with film. I love Only Lover Left Alive, and I think it’s one of the prime examples of that slow, less methodical approach that really works. But I think Scorsese’s method also works just as well. And I think that this film is a perfect example of him forcing you to watch something that might feel off at first, but ultimately adds to the entire experience of the film.
My favorite aspect of the film was the lighting. Almost every scene, including the ones in broad daylight are shot with very low light resulting in a very chiaruscuro loss of detail and increase in shadows. Not in a film noir sense, but more like an intentional departure from a traditional cinematic look. I really liked the realness this instilled into the picture because typically even when there is a high contrast of lighting there is a sense of where to look in the frame. I didn’t feel this at all as I watched the film because it didn’t seem confined to a set and the lack of detail made a lot of the scenes melt into one another without much difference in lighting. I think the use of longer takes helped as well, allowing me to react to the scene as it played out rather than being over manipulated by the editing. This aspect didn’t heighten any sense of tension or looming danger that seemed to in reality follow Rupert Pupkin, but the film doesn’t feel real at all. It becomes difficult to rely on each scene for information because you always have it in the back of your mind that this could all be inside of the head of Rupert Pupkin. From the moment he implemented his plan to kidnap Jerry to its ultimately dreamlike outcome of turning him into a late night comedic star, I never felt nervous simply because Rupert never felt nervous. He always had confidence in what he was doing so that I eventually believed there was something that Rupert knew, that I didn’t. I didn’t feel afraid for him because he bottled everything up, and could seemingly wash his mind of any negativity. He unknowingly rejects the reality of the situations he finds himself in, making it easy for the audience to do the same and not question the madness. It wasn’t until after the film ended that I thought about how insane the content really is. Rupert is desperate, just like Travis Bickle was desperate. Desperate for affection and gratitude that can only be bestowed upon him, not found within himself which leads to a general sadness and lack of satisfaction in life. This makes me think that the ending wasn’t as happy as it seems because Rupert deludes himself into thinking that everything is still beautiful when everyone sees that it clearly isn’t. He peaked when he kidnapped Jerry, performed on his show and became an overnight sensation. The person he leads himself to believe he is does not reflect who he is in reality.
ReplyDeleteUltimately, leading me to believe that the ending is misleading, and that Rupert isn’t experiencing any of this but subjecting us to his own perceived reality. I think if you are a director you are in some way always directing the viewer where to look. You may give them many options or objects to look at within a frame but I think it should all have purpose. I think a filmmaker is always trying to say something with his or her film even if that something is nothing. An artist has a purpose to express themselves differently and more honestly then most people are willing to. So, I guess if you’re wanting to express yourself in a film it takes a certain amount of taking people by the hair and showing them your point of view. That being said we all approach how we pull hair differently so I don’t think that either director is necessarily wrong.
ReplyDeleteI think the real genius of The King of Comedy lies in how we as the audience are constantly slipping in and out of fantasy and reality. In addition to being an important concept to the film as a whole, it is very well executed. There are some moments like the dinner scene in the beginning (where Rupert is offered the job of filling in for Jerry for a while) that seem like fantasy. But as the film goes on it gets harder and harder to separate the strands of reality and fiction. Even more so than Taxi Driver the ending is difficult to interpret. Is he actually out of jail and a runaway success, or is it all another crazy fantasy? And what is with all that red?
ReplyDeleteThe movie is really a very interesting examination of the idea of dreams and fantasy. Both terms traditionally have a sort of innocent connotation. When we are children people are always telling us we should “follow our dreams” or to have “sweet dreams.” “Fantasy” brings to mind tales of knights and dragons or mythical places. In King of Comedy that perception is picked apart. It is interesting that the protagonist is a mannish boy in every since of the term. He still lives with his mom and lacks adult levels of social awareness (all the lurking in the office).
Dreams and fantasy are depicted less as something we should try to live out and more as something that maybe should be bottled up and locked away, because if we aren’t careful they can make us do some weird and fucked up shit.
Somebody in class described it as “Bizarro world Taxi Driver.” I think that really kind of says it all.
This may seem like a cop out answer, but I agree with both of them.
There is no “better” approach. It all depends entirely on the filmmaker. Jarmusch’s movies are great because he brings his unique cinematic vision to them. Scorsese’s films are great because he makes them the way he wants to make them. I personally see the value in and have tried both approaches. In my experience there is a time and place for both.
The creative process is a very personal one. “You do you” is my general attitude towards it. As long as “you doing you” doesn’t involve kidnapping late night television talk show hosts. That’s a bit much….
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ReplyDeleteOne thing I always find interesting in films or stories is when the author makes you empathize, or even root for a character that is so clearly someone you should be rooting against. In The King of Comedy, Scorsese blows up these little ideas like success, ego and obsession. He creates an extreme scenario of someone who wants to live out his dream so bad that he’ll go to extreme, and untraditional measures to do it. Since we don’t get much about Rupert Pupkin’s life before or after the timeframe of the movie, we don’t know what he’s done to pursuit a career as a comedian prior to his first interaction with Jerry Langford in the car, but it doesn’t seem like he’s taken much action up until that point. All we know is that he thinks this will be the fastest way to feed his obsession of becoming a comic, and he’s right.
ReplyDeleteThis was the first time I’d ever seen The King of Comedy, and I didn’t know exactly what the film was going to be about. Within the first 5-10 minutes there was a line that clicked for me. It was when Rupert followed Jerry back to his apartment and they were about to part and Rupert said something like “You’re a prince, Jerry!”. Considering that line, and the title of the movie, it immediately gave me a sense of this character. Not only does he want to be the king of comedy, he already thinks he’s the king. He thinks he’s superior to Jerry Langford, and nobody knows who he is. Then when we go into the imagination sequence of Rupert telling Jerry that he doesn’t want to do the show. There is something so creepy and funny about this scene, and it’s such great insight to the character, both who he is, and who he thinks he is. It’s really cool technically the way we transition in and out of imagination and reality.
This is an easy comparison to Taxi Driver, the way DeNiro portrays a very lonely character that goes to extreme measures to satisfy an obsession. The difference here, someone mentioned in class, is that we don’t have the final shooting scene. Pupkin never has a crazy breakdown where he just loses it, but everything goes as planned. I imagine him walking around prison with that smug smile on his face and he points up to the TV and shows his guards in prison his late night set.
Jarmusch and Scorsese are two of my favorite filmmakers but for very different reasons. In Jarmusch’s early films it’s obvious that he doesn’t want to tell the audience where to look, he uses majority master shots. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t something important going on in the frame, it just means it’s up to the audience to determine what’s important. As an audience member, it’s nice to have a director that trusts you. In Scorsese’s film, we’re going on the adventure with him. The story, and the actual perspective that we’re seeing it through, is very personal to him. As an audience member I’ve learned to trust Scorsese.
The King of Comedy is an deviation from Scorsese's usual track. It features an inconceivably naive Rupert Pupkin who, with extreme confidence and determination, pursues his dream of becoming a "King of Comedy". Like all Scorsese films, the tension and conflict all arise from the protagonists inner turmoil and monologue, but this one actually succeeds. While the end of the film poses the emotional question of whether or not Pupkin got what he wanted, there is no arguing that, at least on the very surface level, his plan worked out. It almost felt like a slap in the face - the entire film the audience is casting judgement on Pupkin for the way he treats his idols and the people around him, often condeming him for being insane or something similar, but in the end this is what brings him his success - he's on every television, selling thousands of books. He's successful, he's famous, and he's the king of comedy.
ReplyDeleteIn a way, I felt it is kind of a warped sibling to the Wolf of Wallstreet where there is a protagonist who, while not insane, cheats the system and gets incredible fame and fortune from doing so. They both go to jail in the end but they also sell millions of copies of their book and recapture that same success. It forces a question on the viewer, should we be endorsing this? At what cost does this curiosity and enthusiasm come?
The film really runs with the blurred lines between reality and fantasy. Many scenes go over the top with trying to express these elements. The dinner scene he has with Jerry where Jerry is looking at Pupkin for assurance and answers, which is constantly cutting between his basement in his moms house and his fantasy. Also the scene where he is accepting applause from a hundred or so black and white photographed faces. They draw the viewers attention inwards in a way, forcing you to remember your own fantasies and question if they were just as insane as Pupkins. In a way, you bond with Pupkin because of them. Because of this I think it changes the movie from one of just pure condemnation of Pupkin, to a mixture of condemnation and sympathy.
In response to the quote, I tend to side more with Jim in most scenarios. The camera is a tool, an eye into the world. How you use that tool is what makes filmmaking so diverse. Scorsese's methods obviously work, and Jarmusch's do too. I like to trust my audience because sometimes they find stuff that I didn't even know was there. That being said, I should definitely look more into Scorsese's style because the meaning that they derive from one of my pieces might be greater if I learn to turn heads in the right direction, in the right way.
Out of Scorsese’s trilogy of alienated dreamers starring Robert DeNiro, The King of Comedy is my favorite. Scorsese’s “traditional” cinematic persona — POV motivated stylization — is technically subdued in King, but nonetheless exists within the long-held frames. With Taxi Driver and Raging Bull, Scorsese plants us in the heads of “outsiders” seeking some brand of redemption within the confines of their individual societies. As LaMotta’s violent tendencies destroy his relationships, as Travis Bickle’s pimp-house massacre buries his fractured psyche, so too does Comedy’s Rupert Pupkin endure life-shattering extremes in order to make his mark on society.
ReplyDeleteIn King of Comedy, Scorsese takes a literal step back to capture a world complicit in Pupkin’s delusions, a cynical reality where media-celebrity innately empowers broken people like Rupert Pupkin to believe that fame is happiness.
Rupert’s on-air monologue near the end of the film exemplifies this notion. With the exception of a couple cut-backs to Rupert in the bar, the scene is presented as an unbroken, steady frame shot with a television camera. Rupert’s comedy act - discussing fractious childhood, his alcoholic father and the death of his mother - is Rupert presenting us the rationale for his social incongruities. This profound reveal is framed as a series of jokes, of course. Rupert’s pain is engineered to elicit laughter. The one moment where he reveals his true self - his abusive childhood, his kidnapping scheme - he is drowned out by the laughter. This is an audience that feeds off of Rupert's dark humor. They validate Rupert’s delusional tendencies. Ultimately Rupert wins, after exposing his deepest mental fractures to the viewer. It’s devastating to watch.
I appreciate both filmmakers a lot. They are not the same. Both styles are valid. I personally would re-watch a Scorsese movie most days, because his filmmaking is so kinetic. That’s the kind of filmmaker I’d like to be ultimately. But Down By Law is one of the greatest movies ever made, so.
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ReplyDeleteWhat can I say about Scorsese's classic, "The King of Comedy?" One exemplary thing I can say about this brilliant, yet underrated character drama would be that it is a self-reflective expose on the ups and downs of stardom. I personally feel that this was Scorsese's dream collaboration project he wanted to do with Robert De Niro; which was evidenced by the immense passion, tenacity and enthusiasm exemplified from each of them. For this film, Scorsese decided to implement the filmmaking, aesthetic use of the POV shot. He specifically incorporated this cinematic framing device with the long-held frames and medium close-up shots. Just like "Taxi Driver" and Raging Bull" before this, Scorsese takes the audience on an emotional and spiritual journey through the mindsets of three psychologically disturbed characters; trying to seek a general modicum of atonement and redemption, and ultimately, gain acceptance within their respective, yet provincial communities. However, with "The King of Comedy", Scorsese specifically capitalizes on the themes of obsession, and how all of these things can slowly, but surely, drive a person insane. The protagonist of the film, Rupert Pupkin, ultimately pays a huge price in his quest for stardom and validation from his peers. We as audience members, witness the monumental impact fame and the the idealization of fame has on Rupert's mental state. Rupert is motivated by his drive and drive for success; which ultimately destroys him. Throughout the course of the film, we as audience members see how truly unhinged and psychologically damaged he is; especially after meeting his comedic mentor, Jerry Langford, played ironically enough a comedic icon within his own rights: Jerry Lewis. We then see Rupert do everything in his power to gain the approval and mutual respect from his mentor. He bends himself over backwards trying to collaborate with Jerry; but always finds his efforts being mocked.
ReplyDeletemeant to the word, by in there, but accidentally forgot.
DeleteAn underrated masterpiece of the highest order! Why American audiences praise "Raging Bill" over "King of Comedy", and even "After Hours", I'll never understand. The overall stylistic and narrative simplicity of "King of Comedy", inspired by Edwin S. Porter's "Life of an American Farmer", far overpowers the monochromatic cinematography of "Raging Bull".
ReplyDeleteRobert De Niro's greatest on screen performance comes as the neurotic Rupert Pupkin on his upward (or downward) spiral in an attempt to become the newly and self-avowed "King of Comedy". De Niro's performances in both the dream sequences as well as the real and living Pupkin play off each other in such a remarkable way that the viewer, at least in my case, wishes for Rupert to succeed in his deranged quest. His at home interactions with his off screen mother, played effortlessly by the triumphant Cathrine Scorsese, are amazingly organic and hilarious exchange despite now being a staple cliché of any character who lives at home with their mother.
In reguards to the Jarmusch vs. Scorsese conversation from the text, I'd say that I'm on the side of our favorite Italian-American. Cinema is a purely visual medium and, moreover, a good (sound) movie is one which you can watch without any sound and still understand what is happening. Scorsese comes from a great line of visual stylists including Griffith, Powell, Fellini and Von Sternberg. Another great contemporary of Scorsese's who similarly is a director who wants to show you everything is Brian De Palma and a great example of that is his 1981 feature "Blow-Out".