Dear Cinephiles,

There’s a powerful – almost seismic – moment in the funny and affectionate “Dolemite is my Name” (2019). Three black men – including our main protagonist Rudy Ray Moore – decide to go to the movies and pick Billy Wilder’s “The Front Page” for the newspaper says it’s the funniest thing in town. The camera shows them in a packed movie theatre, and the three African Americans are surrounded by a sea of white people laughing. “Hey man, what the heck is this?” one of them comments. “And it ain’t no brothers in it,” the other one chimes in. Rudy turns around and looks at the projector lights and has an epiphany. He grasps that the movie is playing across the country and it’s been carried through that flickering light. “They shine that movie across the theatre onto an 80-foot tall screen and bam, it’s like magic,” he exclaims. “I got to get up on that light!” He’s synthesized the power of cinema – and its potential of being the most unifying force – especially in these times of flux.

“I’m going to bet on myself,” exclaims Rudy, “Ain’t nobody going to put me on the screen except for me.” “Dolemite is My Name” is the warm biographical comedy about Rudy Ray Moore – the struggling artist who created the stage persona of “Dolemite.” When the movie starts it’s 1970 and he’s working at a record store and struggling to get his own music on the air of the in-house radio station. At night, he’s a master of ceremonies at a club, where he begs the owner to let him do his own stand up. A homeless man, Rico, walks into his store, rhyming and telling stories – including one about “Dolemite.” Ray records his routine – develops it – pulls an outrageous pimp outfit out of the closet, adds an afro wig and a cane, and shows up to the club. “I come up with a new character, and all new material too. Well, actually, it’s old material,” he tells the owner. He electrifies the audience with a foul-mouthed and hilarious routine called “The Signifying Monkey.” He convinces his auntie to give him some money to make a comedy record in his house with a live audience. “Comedy?” she questions him. “You’ve been a singer, you’ve been a shake dancer, and one time, I think you even called yourself a fortune teller.” Ray argues, “Yeah, well, you know, it’s real hard to break in. I’d do whatever it takes to get in.”

Have I mentioned that Ray/Dolemite is played by Eddie Murphy with such gusto that as you watch you wonder where has this incredibly talented performer been all these years? He’s so fantastic in a role that is tailor-made for him – and that he obviously finds a deep connection with. “I’m like Muhammad Ali,” says Rudy during a photo session for his album — during which he’s posing naked. “We’re getting ready to shock the worlds. I got to be totally outrageous.” Ray finds success for his recording by selling them out of the trunk of his car — and eventually a record company takes him on and sends him on tour. While on tour, he befriends a single mother, Lady Reed, and encourages her to go onstage, be herself and join his tour. But Ray wants more — to make a movie – even if it means indebting himself.

The filming of his pipe dream project – “Dolemite” – a kung fu – black exploitation – action low budget film extravaganza led by Ray who is not in the greatest of shapes (doughier is the way he describes himself) is so outrageous and endearing. It’s as a good as “The Disaster Artist” and “Ed Wood.” For starters, Ray doesn’t know karate. He convinces character actor D’Urville Martin (played with relish by Wesley Snipes) to play the villain by asking him to direct the film (Martin’s reactions to the amateurish way the film comes together are priceless). After completion, Ray cannot get film distribution and embarks on promoting the film single-handedly. The film’s epilogue notes that Rudy Ray Moore continued to tour and star in sequels to Dolemite until his death in 2008. He is today considered to be the “Godfather of Rap.” This character exemplifies perseverance, and we root for him. He states, “Man, I want more. All my life, people been telling me no.” I’ve seen this movie a few times now, and besides being so humorous, I find the whole keep going no matter what attitude of Rudy so inspiring. Now more than ever.

Directed by Craig Brewer from a terrific script by Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski, the film showcases the talents of premier costume designer Ruth E. Carter who excels at period pieces and genres with her clothing. Her work in “Dolemite” is eye-catching and part of the fun. In 2019, she became the first African American to win an Academy Award in that category.

Ray: “Don’t nobody leave, because I promise you it’s going to be worth it! Because like I always say, Dolemite is my name, and rapping and tapping is my game. Yes, I’m young and free, and just as bad as I want to be. Take a look at me. I’m a rare specimen of a man, don’t you agree? I want you to live the life that you love and love the life that you live. From the frantic Atlantic, to the terrific Pacific, be the best of whatever you are. Shoot for the moon, and if you miss it, cling on to a m*therf**king star.”

Love,
Roger

Dolemite is My Name
Available to stream on Netflix.

Written by Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski
Directed by Craig Brewer
Starring Eddie Murphy, Da’Vine Joy Randolph, Keegan-Michael Key, Mike Epps, Craig Robinson, Tituss Burgess and Wesley Snipes
118 minutes

Eddie Murphy on Bringing “Dolemite Is My Name” to the Screen
“Maybe one of the reasons I’m fascinated with Rudy Ray Moore is because his career is the polar opposite of what happened to me,” says Murphy, who picked up a Globe nomination in the best actor, musical or comedy category, for his funny and surprisingly touching performance in the film. “The one thing we have in common is we’re comedians.” Moore, who died in 2008, was a middle-aged showbiz struggler when he invented the stage persona of Dolemite: a pimp with a cane, an outrageous wardrobe and an arsenal of obscenely funny tales. As recounted in the film, Moore rounded up a crew of friends, students and other misfits, and self-financed the production of a no-budget movie built around the character. Dolemite became an underground classic of the mid-’70s blaxploitation movement and was followed by a string of other action comedies headlining Moore, whose vocal style made him an influence on the development of hip-hop and earned him the nickname ‘The Godfather of Rap.’ By contrast, Murphy, in his own words, “got blasted out there” while he was still a teenager, joining the cast of “Saturday Night Live” in 1981 and within a year starting work on a run of big-budget movies — including “48 Hrs.,” “Trading Places,” “Beverly Hills Cop” and “Coming To America” — that would make him a comedy superstar by decade’s end. Since that explosive start, he has had some massive hits (“The Nutty Professor” and “Dr Dolittle” series among them), the odd high-profile miss (like 2002’s “The Adventures Of Pluto Nash”), earned a best supporting actor Oscar nomination for 2006’s “Dreamgirls” and amassed a filmography with an aggregate worldwide gross of more than $7bn.

It was back in the early 2000s that Murphy, sparked by the story of the original movie and after seeing Moore perform stand-up at a Los Angeles club, started developing his Dolemite project (on which he is also a producer). “I have a soft spot for movies about misfits making movies,” Murphy confides. “I love ‘Ed Wood,’ I love ‘Bowfinger,’ [the 1999 comedy] that I did with Steve Martin.” The movie version of Moore, his portrayer says, has a dream but none of the attributes necessary to make it a reality: “He has the least amount of talent, he doesn’t have the looks, he doesn’t have the equipment, he’s surrounded himself with a bunch of people that have never done it before. The thing that makes it happen is his belief in himself. You have to be inspired by a guy like that.” Murphy met with “Ed Wood” writers Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski, who turned out to be fans of Moore and were keen to sign on. Studios, however, were more difficult to win over, even for Murphy, who at the time was not at his box-office peak and was also considering a biopic project about a better-known black entertainment icon, Godfather of Soul James Brown. “I remember sitting with studio executives and they didn’t know who James Brown was,” Murphy recalls, “so Rudy Ray Moore 15 years ago…? It was probably harder to get it made after I’d just made “Pluto Nash,” but even without that they didn’t know Rudy Ray Moore. We needed Netflix to come on the scene to be able to make this movie.” Making the project with Netflix — which premiered Dolemite in September at Toronto International Film Festival and in October gave the film a three-week US theatrical run followed by a streaming launch — gave Murphy, fellow producers John Davis and John Fox and director Craig Brewer the chance they needed. “You have creative freedom,” Murphy enthuses on dealing with the global streamer, “and you have a bunch of smart young people that you’re working with. I love Netflix.” (screendaily.com)

Director Craig Brewer on The Making of “Dolemite Is My Name”
“When the project came to me of the story of Rudy making Dolemite, I felt like it was mine to tell,” Brewer says. “I knew what he went through. I made a movie by hook or crook on the streets of Memphis with a bunch of people that didn’t completely know what we were doing, but we had a lot of passion in it.” Because the director has had to struggle to get his own films made, Brewer says he can understand why Moore’s own movie isn’t polished. As “Dolemite Is My Name” illustrates, Moore’s cinematographer Nicholas Josef von Sternberg (Kodi Smit-McPhee) shot most of the 1975 movie using “short ends,” or unexposed strips of film left over from more generously budgeted shoots. Camera operators had to precisely time their footage because they couldn’t work with full magazines. No wonder von Sternberg landed steady work and 54 IMDB credits after debuting with Dolemite. “I love those moments in the [original] movie,” he says. “To know that there might be parts of Jaws in Dolemite. It reminded me of when I made my first movie. I could either have a window [air conditioning] unit working, or I could edit. I couldn’t do both because it would blow out the circuit breaker of my house in Memphis. I would edit for 10 minutes at a time because the drive that I had could only hold two hours’ worth of footage.” Brewer also says that Moore has inspired rappers, like Snoop Dogg, who appears in the new film as a DJ, and comics like Chris Rock, who plays another DJ, and the Oscar-nominated Murphy. He says that if you look past the boom mics, there is worthwhile content. “Not just for rappers but for me making independent cinema, he was that guy we would quote movie lines from,” Brewer says. “I look at whole parts of (Moore’s) Human Tornado, and I look at that whole sex scene, the one with the guys going down a slide and the child-like blocks. I look at those moments in movies like that [like] ‘God bless this movie.’ This imagery was not out here in the world. And now, here it is. I just saw that lost Orson Welles movie (‘The Other Side of the Wind’), and I think this scene with the guys on the slide is just as interesting as what Orson Welles did.” (arkansasonline.com)

About Director Craig Brewer
…When Walter Brewer and his son Craig walked up to Vallejo’s Empress Theater in 1982, the 11-year-old thought it was like any other trip to the movies. It wasn’t until years later that he realized his film schooling had begun. “He said, ‘Do you remember when we saw “Close Encounters”? The same guy made this movie,’ ” recalls Brewer, who has looked forward to every Steven Spielberg movie since. “It was the first time ever that I was really aware that a person was responsible for a movie.” Brewer’s father worked for the Oakland shipping company Matson Navigation, and couldn’t have lived a life further from Hollywood. But with a new VCR in the house, great films from the past and present became a jumping-off point for family discussions about life, love and art. “My household went through a renaissance,” remembers Brewer. ” ‘You mean we can rent “The Bridge on the River Kwai”? I don’t have to wait for it to be on TV?’ It felt like every night we were going down to the local video store.” Brewer and his sister weren’t sheltered. Brewer said his father let him watch “Midnight Cowboy” when Craig was still in his early teens. “My dad and I had this long conversation afterward about the undeniable brotherhood in man,” Brewer says. “You have a need to connect with someone in the same squalor that you inhabit.” A prodigy in high school, Brewer focused on playwriting, later taking classes at the American Conservatory Theater in San Francisco. He wrote plays that his father helped produce and was production manager of the Center REPertory Company in Walnut Creek. But after a few years, Brewer felt the need to experience a little squalor of his own. Brewer and Jodi, a costume designer, returned to Memphis in 1994, moving into his grandparents’ house. She took a job as a stripper. He worked a minimum-wage job at a bookstore, writing when he could at a local bar. This time, it was a screenplay, and the plan was to make a movie.

Brewer quickly found out that it was impossible to shoot films with no money. Pretty soon, Walter Brewer, still in California, was no longer the fledgling director’s biggest supporter. “My dad kept calling me and saying, ‘Let it go. Let it go,’ ” Brewer remembers…Meanwhile, Jodi’s job at the strip club was taking a toll on both of them. The title of Brewer’s first script, “The Poor & Hungry,” about a Memphis car thief who falls in love with one of his victims, said it all. “You don’t realize that eventually everything exciting becomes a tedious job that you have to endure,” Brewer says. “It started robbing our souls a little bit.” Then, out of nowhere, in 1998, Brewer got a call from his father, suggesting that his son shoot the film using digital cameras. “He told me it should be more like my theater days — not worry so much about what you’re shooting with, but what you’re shooting at,” Brewer says. “I kind of got my dad back.”…”I went out to the store and got some digital video magazines. When I came back home there was this message to call my dad’s work. My dad had died of a heart attack.” Filmgoers who watch “Hustle & Flow”…will see DJay, played by Terrence Howard, staple foam drink holders to the wall and hassle with neighbors over the noise. Many of the most memorable parts of the movie — the fights, the resourcefulness, the moments of grace when something actually works — are from Brewer’s own experiences making “The Poor & Hungry,” using his $20,000 inheritance. “We built sets in the living room,” Brewer recalls. “It was a house just like DJay’s in the movie. It was a s — house. But the same spirit was there — we’ve got to make something.”…”I still had these words of my father in my head: ‘This is how you should do it,’ ” Brewer says. “I wouldn’t say I became a monster, but I definitely became rather driven to get this movie made. And every day I was filming it, I felt like I was making the last thing I was going to do.”…”Poor” was a modest hit on the festival circuit and was later sold to the Independent Film Channel. “The Poor & Hungry” didn’t make Brewer any richer or more well fed, but it gave him a calling card, and he soon found an ally in producer Stephanie Allain, who had once championed Singleton’s “Boyz N the Hood.” Brewer got the idea for “Hustle & Flow” from rapper friends who were putting their music together the same way he made his first movie, in low- budget home studios. The director says he was also inspired by the creation and collaboration he remembered from being a playwright in the Bay Area.”I think being involved so much in theater, I’ve always been more interested in the process than the product. And I don’t just mean in that life- enriching way,” Brewer says. “I mean s — goes down when you’re putting on a play. I understand this world, and that’s something that I really wanted to portray in the making of the music.”

Allain passed around Brewer’s script for “Hustle & Flow,” trying to get a studio to come up with $400,000 to cover the bare minimum cost to shoot the film. When she kept getting rejected — some studios had a problem with a white director making a picture that would play to urban audiences — Allain cashed in a favor and handed the script to Singleton. The veteran director was blown away. “He said, ‘Let’s do it right. Let’s do it for $10 million,’ ” Brewer remembers. ” ‘You just need me.’ “…Singleton shopped the script to all the studios again, plus a couple of movie financiers in Germany, this time with his name as producer. The answer was still no. When the second biggest phone call of Brewer’s life came early last year, he was convinced it was to say goodbye. “John called me up late at night. ‘Craig, we’ve been everywhere twice.’ All these options that we had looked into, they just dried up. John said, ‘Look, we did our best. We did everything we could.’ ” Singleton paused. ” ‘So I’m going to green-light this mother — myself.’ ” Singleton put up his house for collateral and paid $2.8 million for the movie. Brewer’s excitement that “Hustle & Flow” would get made was tempered by dread. “I spent every day making that first movie thinking, ‘Would my dad like this?’ I’m using his money from his death,” says Brewer. “And now here’s one of my heroes, and he’s doing the exact same thing. It was wonderful and it was pretty daunting. The man kept telling me: ‘If this doesn’t work out, my kids are going to public schools.’ ” Brewer went into…Sundance Film Festival hoping the film would get picked up for art house distribution and then make Singleton’s money back on DVD sales. Instead, “Hustle” was the sensation of the festival, winning the Audience Award plus an acting award for Howard, whose out-of-nowhere performance as DJay has generated about half of the movie’s buzz. “I just remember sitting on this couch with my wife, watching this bidding war go down,” Brewer remembers. “We had just sold off half of our furniture. This video collection I had collected since I was 15. Hundreds of movies. And now they’re all at my friends’ houses at midtown. They came over and bought them all when we didn’t have enough money to pay mortgage.” (sfgate.com) A few of Brewer’s other works include, “Black Snake Moan” (2006), Petty Cash (2008), “The Shield” (2008), “Footloose” (2011), “Boomerang” (2013), “Urban Cowboy” (2016), “Birds in the Cage” (2018), “You Look Like” (2019), “Without All Remedy” (2019), “The Roughest Day” (2019), “Empire” (2015-2019) and most recently is in post-production on “Coming 2 America” (2020).