Normally, I struggle to empathize with trashy characters flailing their way through life. Normally, when a film clocks in at two-plus hours, I struggle to understand why it wasn’t 30 minutes shorter. “The King of Staten Island” (2020) is not normal. Pete Davidson’s self-deprecating vanity project benefits greatly from Judd Apatow’s direction and co-writing. You can see his handiwork all over the witty, working-class NYC repartee. And the last half hour feels more like a welcome reward instead of a trudge to the finish, as our twentysomething hero gamely wrestles with the inertia that comes from a lifetime of mourning.