Release Date: February 18, 1983

Simon Cowell should be thankful that the average deluded American Idol also-ran isn't Rupert Pupkin. The single-minded fameball at the center of Scorsese's pitch-black The King of Comedy is a type with whom we've become increasingly familiar in our tabloid-saturated times: Pupkin is needy, desperate, and willing to do anything to become famous. However, as played by Robert DeNiro, he's a strangely sympathetic psychopath -- and not an untalented one at that. Largely ignored and misunderstood upon its release, The King of Comedy today looks eerily prescient, and finds Scorsese dissecting our showbiz-fixated culture through the lens of the troubled loners that populated his previous films.

The lonely Pupkin amuses himself by seeking autographs and play-acting a late night talk show (he has a full set in his apartment, and banters with cardboard cutouts of the stars). One night, he has a chance meeting with one of his idols, chat host Jerry Langford (Jerry Lewis), who non-committally promises to check out Pupkin's comedy act. Convinced he has his foot in the door, Pupkin shows up daily at Langford's office until eventually he's forcefully ejected. He then hatches a plot to kidnap Langford in a last-ditch effort to realize his dreams. With terrific performances from DeNiro, Lewis, and a borderline possessed Sandra Bernhard (who plays Pupkin's accomplice), The King of Comedy is about as black as black comedies come, but it makes for riveting, prophetic entertainment. Most ironic line of dialogue, courtesy of Langford: "You don't just walk onto a network show without experience." Just you wait, buddy.