A recommendation for Dolemite is my Name...

...which is on Netflix India. Caution: you need a high threshold for profanity, scatological dialogue and “tasteless comedy”, but those things are surface elements here – underneath them is a tender, affectionate film with tremendous heart. This is Eddie Murphy’s tribute to the comedian-singer Rudy Ray Moore and his “Dolemite” persona which became an underground hit in the 1970s, and which was spun off into a film series. Dolemite is my Name covers the period around the birth of that persona – initially employed for nightclub acts – and the earnest but hilariously inept making of the first film, Dolemite.

I knew only a little about Moore going in, hadn’t seen any of his work, and had a passing knowledge of the “blaxploitation” subculture of the 70s; this film revitalises him, making him real and relatable in a way comparable to what the 1994 Ed Wood did for another famously “bad” filmmaker. But for me, Dolemite is my Name was also a reminder of Eddie Murphy’s special genius. It’s been a while since I saw him – the last time was probably 20 years ago in his splendid double role in Bowfinger (which, coincidentally, was also about a filmmaking unit with more enthusiasm than talent). He puts everything he has into this role; it was clearly a personal project for him.

One idea I thought was poignantly implied here: that even what is widely considered “bad art” can beget good things, through the effect it has on people who for very personal reasons find validation or resonance in it – including marginalised artists who, stirred and encouraged by something they can relate to, go on to create more lasting things themselves. A scene at the end has Rudy Ray Moore, at the crowded late-night premiere of Dolemite, opting not to go into the hall but to hang around outside, entertaining the viewers waiting in line for the next show. Among those viewers is a young boy, a huge Rudy fan who can’t believe his luck that his idol is bantering and rapping with him. I haven’t read much around the film, but it struck me that in 1975, when this scene was set, Eddie Murphy himself would have been around the age of this young boy – and I wondered if there was something autobiographical about the scene, or even just a bit of wish-fulfilment in it. Either way, if Murphy has produced and starred in a film this good – which is largely about the making of a “bad” film – it says something about the capacity of low art to inspire and nourish

P.S. Dolemite is my Name was written by Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski, who also scripted Ed Wood. In one of the most moving scenes in the earlier film, there is a suggestion that the talentless Edward Wood and the genius Orson Welles were kindred spirits in a way: misunderstood and persecuted, united by a childlike passion for their medium. A similar, more fleeting analogy is made in Dolemite is my Name, via a mention of John Cassavetes, the very respected director who realised his visions on tiny budgets. I can imagine the ghosts of Cassavetes and Rudy Ray Moore very surprised at finding themselves sharing a cell in a directors' purgatory -- but then overcoming their shyness and getting down to swapping harrowing stories.