The King of Comedy is a perfect allegory for the modern terminally online right wing incel. Rupert Pupkin is basically the prototype. He's a delusional loser with no real talent or charisma who genuinely believes he deserves to be a famous celebrity just because he wants it bad enough. Just like those schizoid Twitter and podcast guys who read books about Napoleon or Julius Caesar and convince themselves they’re some kind of suppressed genius with superior genes despite all the evidence to the contrary. They sit around stewing in resentment, certain that some vague "system" or group is conspiring to hold them back from their rightful place in history. Rupert blames Jerry Langford for ignoring him, they blame "globalists" or "feminism" for not being taken seriously.

Rupert’s entire life is a fantasy. He builds a world in his head where he is already a star, admired and respected, because facing his real existence would shatter him. That’s exactly what these guys do when they spiral into conspiracies, talk about masculinity, or LARP as philosophers online. He has no social skills, no sense of reality, and no meaningful relationships. Sound familiar? These people are disconnected, mentally ill, incapable of real connection or self-improvement, so they escape into some grand narrative where they are misunderstood visionaries or strongmen who would have amazing lives if they only lived in a healthy (fashy) society. Rupert kidnapping Jerry is the final fantasy made real, the desperate hail mary to force a world that never wanted him to acknowledge his importance. Every time a chud loses his mind on X or writes another 5,000 word post about blood and soil, it’s the same energy.