This movie got so uncomfortable, for the sixth viewing, that yes, it was a wee bit of a struggle – was celebrity worship like this before the internets? – to not turn it off, Scorsese pushing the awkwardness to the max.
De Niro’s strange concoction that is Rupert Pupkin keeps turning up, the proverbial gatecrasher, won’t take no for an answer and as confident as can be, wholly without any insight into his own insanity. He’s Travis Bickle but less visually threatening. But just as mental.
Celebrity is the answer to this lad’s problems in the most static, non-expressionist masterpiece Scorsese made. The visual discipline even works in its favour in how it defines the insufferable presence of this Pupkin creation.
