{"id":21841,"date":"2016-08-12T14:37:14","date_gmt":"2016-08-12T18:37:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/cinema-crazed.com\/blog\/?p=21841"},"modified":"2016-08-17T10:04:42","modified_gmt":"2016-08-17T14:04:42","slug":"dolemite-1975","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.cinema-crazed.com\/blog\/2016\/08\/12\/dolemite-1975\/","title":{"rendered":"Dolemite (1975)"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Rudy<\/a>In the realm of cinema, the 1975 blaxploitation feature \u201cDolemite\u201d might be the closest thing that the medium has to folk art: its raw form carries strains of both naivety and shrewdness, resulting in a work that is mesmerizing for its utter lack of polished structure.<\/span><\/p>\n

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In typical blaxploitation fashion, the eponymous Dolemite (Rudy Ray Moore) is an anti-hero in a world full of villains. A pimp and nightclub owner, Dolemite is framed by crooked cops working on behalf of his rival Willie Green (D\u2019Urville Martin, also the film\u2019s director). After being paroled on the shaky premise of helping the authorities break a local crime ring, Dolemite discovers that Willie Green is now running his club and that his hookers are in the employ of the kindly madam Queen Bee (Lady Reed), who had the foresight to get the girls into a karate academy. With his army of martial arts-ready hoes and new sense of purpose, Dolemite is ready to get revenge on Willie Green and reestablish his reign as the flashiest pimp in the hood.<\/span><\/p>\n

With its funk soundtrack, outlandishly tacky costumes, crass sex scenes and wild political incorrectness\u2014especially with the comic relief heroin addict\u2014\u201cDolemite\u201d is a toxic time capsule from the shaggiest of all decades. Martin\u2019s shaky directing skills fails to disguise the poverty of the budget or the screenplay, and the lo-fi climactic car chase is so painfully inept that it is almost brilliant in a so-bad-it’s-good manner. It is no wonder that so many people love “Dolemite,” if only for the wrong reasons.<\/span><\/p>\n

But the real power here\u2014indeed, the only reason to set aside time to watch this flick\u2014is Moore, a minor party album comic who plumbed gold in his raunchy Dolemite.\u00a0 With scatological bravado (\u201cDolemite is my name and fucking up motherfuckers is my game!\u201d), the title character steamrolls his way through one outlandish scene after another, creating comic and violent chaos wherever he goes. Whether taking carnal revenge on an untrustworthy ex-lover (\u201cI\u2019m going to give you a fucking you\u2019ll never forget\u201d) or calming a hooker joining him in a spooky church (\u201cIf you ever see a ghost, cut the motherfucker\u201d) or entertaining street denizens with a comic rap about the Titanic (no quoting here\u2014this one you have to hear to believe!), Moore\u2019s Dolemite is toughest, dirtiest and funniest person the screen. And not even the surprise presence of the boom microphone hovering above a couple of scenes can steal attention away from Moore\u2019s earthy energy. Who needs CGI idols when you have this fresh, profane dynamo of a superstar?<\/span><\/p>\n