‘We’re like the only place that New Jersey looks down on…’
The semi-autobiographical dramedy is all the rage in the world of comedy right now. Louis CK arguably popularised the format with his episodic masterpiece Louie, but everyone from Pete Holmes to Mindy Kaling have explored this format with varying degrees of success. Up until now, this has mainly been the preserve of television, but with The King of Staten Island, director Judd Apatow and writer/star Pete Davidson have scaled up to produce one of the most ambitious movies of 2020. And boy, is it good…
Crushed by the death of his hero father while on duty as a firefighter, Scott Carlin (Davidson) is a lost soul in an unforgiving world. Plagued by ADD and a lack of direction, Scott relies on a support network consisting of his mom Margie (Marisa Tomei), his on/off girlfriend Kelsey (Bel Powley) and his uncompromising sister Claire (Maude Apatow). Scott’s shaky relationship with the straight and narrow is destroyed following the arrival of Ray Bishop (Bill Burr), another firefighter and would be suitor to Margie.
Pete Davidson is a complicated character. In reality, his own father was killed whilst on duty as a firefighter during 9/11. His role as a performer on Saturday Night Live has been mired in controversy, and his relationship with Ariana Grande was played out very publically in the tabloids. He has also admitted to suicidal thoughts in the past. This is a lot to put on someone who is barely into his mid twenties, but with The King of Staten Island, Davidson has shown there is more to his personality than quirks and foibles. His performance here is a tour de force of emotional depth. Often moving between being loathsome and sympathetic, Davidson is the embodiment of his own grief, as if he unable to mask his varied emotions.
This is not all about the young comic, however. Both Bill Burr and Bel Powley are a revelation, wringing an acute spiritual depth from characters that could easily have become caricatures in the wrong hands. Marisa Tomei is perfect as the long suffering mother that many of us will recognise from our own lost years, and Maude Apatow casts off any accusations of nepotism with an assured performance as ‘the only normal one in this family’. Elsewhere, former firefighter Steve Buscemi steals every scene he is in, and Apatow squeezes in various other interesting and complex characters into the two hour plus running time.
On the subject of the film’s length, Judd Apatow has often been criticised for his movies being too long. He has rectified this, not by making them shorter, but by simply making this film better. The King of Staten Island never meanders, it rages along like angry rapids, racing towards a conclusion that lies finely in the balance until the very last scene.
Like horror, comedy is treated shabbily by Hollywood. This film will win no Oscars. It won’t top any end of year lists. But with The King of Staten Island, Judd Apatow has confirmed his status as one of the best directors in Tinseltown. He deserves to be mentioned in the same breath as Tarantino and Soderbergh. Make it so.