An appetite for Apatow can come and go.

40 Year Old Virgin can satisfy, Knocked Up may not. One of his films was the aptly named Trainwreck.

Thankfully, Mr. Apatow’s latest directorial effort, THE KING OF STATEN ISLAND is a semi autobiographical story of its leading man, Pete Davidson, written by Davidson, Dave Sirus and Apatow, and is not a Judd dud.

Davidson plays Scott, still living at home with his widowed mum twenty-five years after his conception. His younger sister has left home for college but Scott barely scraped through high school and spends his time goofing off with a bunch of fellow slackers.

Their bong bingeing banter is an endearing factor of the film and exceedingly funny. It renders the picture punchline drunk but the inebriation is euphoric not bitter.

THE KING OF STATEN ISLAND is ninety per cent jokes and ten per cent narrative yet still seems to tell a somewhat sprawling story of arrested development which finally finds release.

Fatherless for nearly two decades since his firefighting dad died in a hotel fire, Scott is dazed, confused and ultimately resentful when his mother, Margie, starts dating a fireman.

Davidson’s character is what many would call “on the spectrum” with his lack of filtering and bizarre dream of opening a tattoo parlour cum restaurant with him being chief inker.

But he’s unabashedly charming in a goofy, toothsome, wide mouthed way, a sort of 21st Century Jerry Lewis.

THE KING OF STATEN ISLAND has a terrific supporting cast, particularly Marisa Tomei as Margie, who could well be looking at another Oscar nomination. Bel Powley as Scott’s fuck buddy, Kelsey, is at her engaging best, and Steve Buscemi pops up as a veteran fireman full of sage wisdom and benign mentoring.

THE KING OF STATEN ISLAND is a comedy where the verbal overwhelms the visual, deadpan delivery is mixed with machine gun enunciation, and conflict creates laughs rather than blows.

At a time when we need all the laughs we can get, THE KING OF STATEN ISLAND is worth courting.