Scabrous comedian Rudy Ray
Moore made his big-screen debut as the producer, star, and cowriter of the
hellaciously bad blaxploitation romp Dolemite.
The title character is a pimp/entertainer/vigilante who leads a squad of martial
arts-trained prostitutes on a righteous crusade against an underworld opponent.
The movie is exactly as insipid as its premise, with the tawdry nature of the
project exacerbated by disjointed storytelling and terrible acting. Further, Dolemite awkwardly ricochets between
action, comedy, sex, and violence. Despite having the right ingredients for a
proper blaxploitation joint, Moore and his collaborators—including
director/costar D’Urville Martin—contribute such amateurish work that watching Dolemite is a painful chore. For
instance, the movie begins with Dolemite (Moore) getting released from prison
in order to function as an undercover operative for law-enforcement
authorities. Yet he’s met at the prison gate by a carload of hookers, and
moments later, Dolemite grabs a machine gun from his car and cheerfully murders
several would-be assailants. Huh?
To be fair, low-rent blaxploitation pictures
were never big on logic, since the fun of such movies stems from kitschy style
and lurid thrills. Nonetheless, Dolemite
is so stunningly stupid that it’s hard to go along for the ride. Consider these
inane lines of dialogue: “Dolemite is my name, and fuckin’ up motherfuckers is
my game”; “Man, move over and let me pass ’fore they have to be pullin’ these
Hush Puppies out your motherfuckin’ ass!” There’s a certain traffic-accident
fascination to be had in watching the crude and unfunny Moore, who seems as if
he was suffering from a concussion during filming. Still, determining exactly
what audiences found charming about the man and his ridiculous onscreen alter
ego is challenging.
When Dolemite returned a year later in The Human Tornado, Moore truly let his freak flag fly. Disjointed,
perverse, and surreal, The Human Tornado
is a blaxploitation movie on acid. Worse, it seems as if Moore intended for the
movie to be a comedy. The plot has something to do with Dolemite fleeing the
south after getting caught in bed with a white woman who paid him for sex,
because her husband is a crazed redneck sheriff. Dolemite decamps to Los
Angeles, where he helps a friend who’s being shaken down by the mob. (Never
mind that the friend runs a prostitution ring.)
In addition to profane dialogue
and tragic ’70s fashions (all those jumpsuits!), The Human Tornado features several genuinely bizarre scenes. Half-naked
hookers are tortured by a woman wearing grotesque wicked-witch makeup straight
out of H.R. Pufnstuf. Dolemite
services a woman with such intensity that he literally causes the house around
them to disintegrate. (He’s a human tornado, get it?) In another bedroom scene,
(offscreen) cunnilingus is intercut with Dolemite eating chicken. Oh, and after
Dolemite jumps off a steep cliff, the movie freezes, the text “instant replay”
appears on screen, and Moore’s voice intones: “Some of y’all don’t believe I
jumped, so watch this good shit!” Then the jump replays. Oy. Need we mention
the dream sequence in which naked studs emerge from toy boxes and then ride a
slide into a sex-crazed woman’s embrace?
And since cataloguing the oddities of
a Rudy Ray Moore joint wouldn’t be complete without citing at least one choice
line of dialogue, consider this sweet remark Dolemite makes to a lover: “All
right, let’s get this shit over—I ain’t got all day.” Romance, thy name is
Dolemite. In addition to making other projects, Moore periodically returned to
the Dolemite character, starring in Shaolin
Dolemite (1999) and The Return of
Dolemite (2002), before passing away in 2008.
Dolemite:
LAME
The Human Tornado: FREAKY
2 comments:
Your review was funnier than anything that's in the movie.
I humbly suggest that you go back on the Dolemite movies after watching Eddie Murphy's biopic on R. R. Moore. Maybe the yardsticks to assess Dolemite need be adjusted /expanded - especially when it comes to Moore's pioneering rhyming speech (>rap).
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