As to not get started on a down-key note, Rudy Ray Moore is a fellow I can appreciate. His morals, humor, ghetto tell-all attitude, and brazen yell only add to his ability to stick to his dreams. He is a man who had an insatiable appetite for all forms of art, branching from modeling for his "Party records" to acting/producing/and editing his own creations of soul. In all his forms of ghetto art, there hasn't been a proper chronicling of his achievements and life story. God knows that the Biography Channel would rather swallow a mouth full of testicles than to report on an icon that made "nigger" a household phrase. What kills is the irony when Rudy Ray Moore decided within the last months of his life that this word was unacceptable and should never be uttered again, all the while I'm watching The Human Tornado listening to every other character exclaim about a "nigger" in the vicinity.
The Legend of Dolemite: Bigger & Badder is the documentary I'm "reporting" on. For being a blissful "retrospective" of his entire career, I found this feature to be numbingly boring and only worthy of a make-shift prop to put an end to that wobble in your antique coffee table. At least this documentary succeeds in being informative, right? While I don't love this documentary as much as newcomer Fox loved Man On Wire, I do find very minuscule facets of this film to be enough to sake me into continuing rather than shutting off my television set and fantasizing about watching a film that doesn't completely bore me. The main outlet for entertainment are the "interviews" shot on cellphone quality cameras with no tripod nor stand. Everything from low-brow rappers to second-rate comedians compliment the legacy that Dolemite has left.
Checklist. Trashy amateur interviews? Check. A Microsoft PowerPoint-like presentation? Check. Recycled footage from Dolemite DVD's we already own canceling most of the actual run time out to a mere 20 minutes? Check. What Xenon Pictures has funded* is completely oblivious and soulless at the same time; a role that hasn't been filled since the birth of Helen Keller (Yes, I accept hate mail). When this documentary isn't focusing on a rather boring middle school scenery drape with an elderly Dolemite intersected with clips of him in rather Kwanzaa-enthusiastic outfits, this film does absolutely nothing else. That's another secret. You will have your time wasted with such valor. Rather than continuing to verbally slaughter this documentary, allow me to move on the topic of the missed late great Rudy Ray Moore. Here is my disclaimer of dissatisfaction towards an adored icon that decided to change his pleasurable ways at the nearsight of death.
Fact: The events transpiring in this screenshot are as unnecessary as watching the "documentary" discussed throughout.
I found that the longer Rudy Ray Moore drew breath, the more radical his thoughts were becoming. It's as if the politically incorrect facility that was his train of thought had gone bankrupt and opted to serve as a soup kitchen instead. After all, it's all for the children. Rudy Ray Moore is like a scornful father to a genre that he influenced, crafted, and molded into his own personal blend of humor, subtle racism, and ghetto folklore. Within the questioning, Dolemite is quick to call the genre of blaxploitation "crude". He starts rambling like an angry Protestant swearing death upon those that labeled his films such. If "The Godfather isn't considered Italian exploitation" (This quote is a loose version of what he said which brings about the exact same point) then his Dolemite films shouldn't be called a Black exploitation film. Well my dear Rudy, The Godfather doesn't feature and preoccupy itself with artful imagery of "niggas" running amok, fucking white desperate housewives, and pimping karate hoes. "Well, that isn't apart of Italian culture" is what I could see him feebly responding with to which my reply would shoot forth calling him a bigoted racist ultimately turning the race card on him after all these years of "Kill Whitey" mentality and label him the father of a dead end culture.
Rudy Ray Moore succumbed to the specifically lethal complications of diabetes in October before seeing his final Halloween. It's venomously lethal to consider The Legend of Dolemite: Bigger & Badder to be his definitive legacy put on film. Hopefully we'll see a Hollywood adaption of his life on the big screen in twenty or so years. Considering the rate that Will Smith's parasite child Jaden is acquiring roles to butcher, we might have to see this "Karate Kid" ruining one of our favorite blaxploitation star's image. The only act his "documentary" pulled was a vanishing trick right before teaching Dolemite a brief lesson of humility. From allowing him to contradict himself and demonstrating a film editor's ability to render the same jokes used in three different stand-up performances, I cannot tell what the most dismal asset of this film is, or perhaps the end of his career and sadly, his life. Looking forward to the Dolemite Explosion, I have but little to hold on to other than the blissful memories of Petey Wheatstraw. As I've said, I love Rudy Ray Moore to death but I lack the compassion to forgive a lethal case of senility.
*It's impossible to tell what this DVD company partakes in seeing as how many Special Feature content lists are inaccurate and the improper scene selections plague many copies.