As some of you may already know, I co-host a monthly film series called “Cinema and Conversation” at our local book store. Last night, I screened the 1983 Martin Scorsese movie, “The King of Comedy.” It stars Robert De Niro as a wannabe stand-up comic Rupert Pupkin, who dreams of being on “The Jerry Langford Show,” the equivalent of a comic’s highly-sought breakthrough appearance on “The Tonight Show.” Although favorably received by critics, it was a commercial failure, grossing only $2.5 million and it now ranks #6,644 on the all-time box office revenue list.
As I told last night’s attendees, you have to look at this movie from two perspectives. First, it is a an example of how a talented filmmaker can turn a simple premise into a compelling theatrical experience through brilliant casting and understated directing. At another level, “The King of Comedy” may be the most profound movie of the last 50 years, foretelling a future culture which did not exist when the film hit theaters in 1983. Below the surface, “The King of Comedy” is a parable about a divided America in the Trump era.
This is not about Donald Trump’s self-serving interests, general character or policies. You know how I feel about those. This film explains why some of us view him as a villain and others see him as a hero. When Pupkin (De Niro) gets a chance to share his dream with Langford (portrayed by Jerry Lewis), the talk show host gives him the following advice.
I know it’s a hackneyed expression, but it’s the truth, you’ve got to start from the bottom…It looks so simple to the viewer at home, those things that come so easily that are so relaxed and look like it’s a matter of just taking another breath. It takes years and years and years of honing that and working that.
Pupkin’s response, “I don’t mean to interrupt you, but there’s a problem. I’m 34 years old.” Undeterred, Pupkin takes an unconventional, questionable path to getting his 15 minutes of fame.
Now close your eyes and visualize the same scene in my forthcoming remake, “The King of Politics.” Trump shares his dream of becoming president of the United States with a former commander-in-chief (a hologram of Ronald Reagan) who advises him:
I know it’s a hackneyed expression that in America anyone can grow up to be president. Look at me. But it’s not that easy. It’s not like anything you’ll ever experience. But you can prepare yourself by first being a mayor or governor. Or even president of the Screen Actors Guild. It takes years and years and years to understand how government works.
Like Pupkin, Trump interrupts Reagan. “But there’s just one problem, I’m 72 years old.”
I tip my hat to screenwriter Paul D. Zimmerman for virtually inking the script for my Trump bio-pic. Why? Because Trump IS a modern day Rupert Pupkin. When Langford tries to exit the conversation with Pupkin, telling him to call his secretary, Pupkin mistakes the brush-off as encouragement. When his phone calls are not returned, he goes to Langford’s office where the assistant (Shelley Hack) echoes her bosses admonition you do not start at the top. The normal process is for the show to send a talent scout to watch you perform. But Pupkin has never tested his material before a live audience. To which the assistant replies:
As soon as you start working again, call and we’ll send someone down to check out your act.
Still believing he is destined to the be the new king of comedy without prior evidence of his talent or appeal, Pupkin goes on a journey of increasingly aberrant behavior to achieve his goal. Sound familiar?
Like Pupkin, Trump is never dispirited by those who give him the cold shoulder or make jokes at his expense such as the ones delivered by President Obama and Seth Meyers at the 2011 White House Correspondents Dinner. It only hardens his resolve to succeed. And as the reincarnation of De Niro’s character, he crafts an unconventional and increasingly unethical, if not illegal, campaign which gives him his more than 15 minutes in the national spotlight.
But I digress. This post is not about Trump. It is a simple and rational explanation for the chasm which divides his supporters and critics. For 38-40 percent of the country, Trump as Pupkin is an improbable success story. It is as film critic Scott McCauley suggests of the Scorsese version, “…a saga of start at the top grandiosity.” Trump believes he deserves to be at the apex of the political world just as Pupkin sees himself as the new king in the realm of entertainment. And both Trump and Pupkin prove it by beating the odds.
As for the rest of us? It is not as though we believe there is only one way to earn the keys to the White House. That every candidate needs to pay their political dues before becoming chief executive of the United State. After all, I vaguely remember supporting a wet-behind-the-ears freshman senator named Barack Obama. In his manifesto for governance, he self-described his mission as audacious. The difference, of course, is in this latter case, Obama’s success was not fueled by foreign interference, paying off porn stars or promoting hate of others. Although Obama’s rise was accelerated, it did not rest on shortcuts.
SPOILER ALERT. Scorsese’s portrait of an overachiever concludes at the protagonist’s moment of ultimate success. But the last scene is perhaps a harbinger of things to come. Pupkin is silent in front of his adoring fans. Is he merely basking in the glow of his new-found notoriety? Or was he a one trick pony? Was his rise the story? Will his audience grow tired of him if there is no second act? The demo tape he makes is called, “The Best of Rupert Pupkin.” It is equivalent to an actor receiving an Oscar for lifetime achievement after his or her first cinematic role.
Stay tuned for the sequel, “The King of Politics: Part II,” coming to a theater near you next November.
For What it’s Worth.
Dr. ESP