It's Sandra Bernhard as Masha!
Dear friends and enemies,
There are so many things that I could discuss with The King of Comedy, which is one of the best films Martin Scorsese has ever made.
There is the clear influence of John Cassavetes, with shots cribbed directly from Opening Night and a passing resemblance to the theatrical aspects of The Killing of a Chinese Bookie. There is also, of course, Scorsese’s ongoing depictions of toxic masculinity—this being another movie putting a Travis Bickle type into a situation. Then, there is the autobiographical angle, how Scorsese forced his way into a Hollywood that was always ambivalent about having him, similar to New York, New York. We could also talk about how The King of Comedy “says a lot about society,” Rupert Pupkin (Robert De Niro) becoming famous and wealthy because of the kidnapping he orchestrates in the film.
But we’re not going to talk about any of that! Instead, we’re going to talk about Sandra Bernhard’s electrifying performance as Masha, Rupert’s “friend” and accomplice. It is probably more fitting to call them colleagues than friends—coworkers in the business of stalking and eventually kidnapping late-night talk show host and beloved comedian Jerry Langford (Jerry Lewis).
The King of Comedy is about Rupert Pupkin’s obsessive compulsive need to become a successful comedian and ingratiate himself into Jerry Langford’s circle, to become famous, which leads to him and Masha kidnapping Jerry and holding him hostage until Langford’s show lets Rupert performs his act.
The opening scene is a mob at the stage door of the studio where Jerry tapes his show. Rupert is among the throng of fans, politely watching; he even helps Jerry when they swarm him. Jerry gets in his car and we are introduced to Masha, who has found her way into his car, as well. After a quick back and forth where she desperately pleads with him to love her, he gets out of the car and Masha starts clawing at the window, wailing.
There is a perfect freeze (thank you, Thelma Schoonmaker) from inside the car, with a bulb flashing in the background, giving her hands a terrifying glow, obstructing of Rupert Pupkin’s face outside the car window. The opening credits play over this frame, making the desperate intensity of her hands’ grip the perfect distillation of the movie’s themes of delusion, obsession, and the need for validation.
Rupert pursues Jerry through more traditional if still inappropriate methods—going to the show’s offices and sitting for hours waiting for Jerry to meet with him so that he can perform his act for him. The only place he has ever performed, it is clear, is his basement in front of cardboard cutouts of Jerry and Liza Minnelli. As he “hosts his show,” his mother is heard upstairs screaming at him, asking who he’s talking to.
At one point, as he leaves Jerry’s office, Masha is waiting. Crouched behind the Paramount Plaza sign like a feral animal. She catches up with Rupert and he yells at her to leave him alone, he doesn’t want his friend Jerry to see him associating with one of his stalkers.
In this conversation, we learn that Masha is, inexplicably, loaded. Masha tells Rupert that she bought him meals when he needed, she gives him a fat wad of cash that she just happens to have on her person, and Rupert tells her he can barely make rent while she lives in a townhouse.
We never learn how Masha is so wealthy but I would assume it is generational, because she seemingly has all the time in the world to stalk Jerry Langford. That is her career and passion. When we do finally see inside the aforementioned townhouse, it’s gorgeous, tastefully decorated. No matter your class, you can be obsessed with a celebrity enough to kidnap them, the movie shows us.
It’s in Masha’s townhouse that they hold Jerry when they kidnap him. Masha holds the fake gun on Jerry while they get the ball rolling on the plan, but Masha’s (and Bernhard’s) big moment comes after Rupert leaves to be on the show.
Masha lights all the candles in the house and sits Jerry at the dinner table, his body wrapped in so much tape that it holds its shape like a sculpture. Masha removes the tape on Jerry’s mouth so they can chat. She babbles on about wanting to do something crazy and impulsive and make love with Jerry right there on the table. She is so warped that she trusts him when he asks her to untape the rest of him; she really believes that he wants to be with her in the same way she wants to be with him.
There is a glint in Bernhard’s eye, a savage glow, in these moments, which are intercut with Rupert at the TV studio. When Masha says she feels like anything could happen, I believe her. She shows off her crystal glasses and then adds, “but if you don’t like them, if there’s even an inkling, any doubt in your mind—” and she chucks the glass behind her and it shatters offscreen. She rambles incoherently, a complete stream of consciousness. She fantasizes about going golfing with him, offering him, “‘Need a putter, Jer?’ You know? ‘Need an iron?’ I don’t even know how to play golf. I played with my parents once, my dad. But, I love you. I’ve never told my parents that I love them. Of course, they never told me that they love me either, which was fine with me.”
It is a completely unhinged performance, which was largely improvised, so we can attribute the stream of consciousness to Bernhard’s skill. “God, you know who I wish I was tonight? I wish I was Tina Turner, just dancing through the room, oooh oooh.”
Masha sings to Jerry a cappella, sitting on his tape-ensconced body, seducing him. Bernhard is so entirely committed, it’s breathtaking to behold. Her emotions change on a dime, from seductive to burning to rage about something going on entirely in her head.
To be in a Martin Scorsese movie is to possess this absolute unwavering commitment to the bit. Bernhard brings Masha to life in a way that I don’t think any other actor could.
When we last see Masha, she is running down the street in her underwear and heels. I often wonder where Masha would be today. I’m sure there would be a mid documentary about her on Netflix, maybe showing off mountains of Jerry Langford memorabilia in her beautiful town house that has deteriorated over the years. And I’d like to see it.