Matt Rooney
mrooney3@uwyo.edu
My chest felt like it was about to cave in. The sheer force pressing was like The Hulk slowly pressing his massive fist, trying to squash my heart as I lay on a brick wall. I wasn’t being attacked by a giant rage monster in an old shoe factory, but was hanging out after-hours in a movie theater, where some friends and I decided to screen a DVD on the big screen, because why not? The movie was not “Star Wars” like many would choose, but instead we choose “Delirious,” Eddie Murphy’s masterful stand-up special he did at the ripe old age of 21. He was the Hulk, my seat was the wall and the resulting effect was my near death from affixation due to massive, uncontrollable laughter. Murphy was so funny it nearly killed me. Luckily I survived having only suffered some wet shorts.
Laughter had never hit me like a sledgehammer before. I had never experienced a barrage of hilarity like that before. Whether he was talking about a family cookout, ice cream or pooping in the bathtub there was not a single bit not expertly executed with confidence and natural humor. It was a shame though, that I had not seen this Murphy before.
Don’t get me wrong, I was well aware of the man. Sadly, my exposure was “Pluto Nash,” “Dr. Dolitte,” “I Spy” and “Daddy Day Care” and other family-friendly drek or just flat-out drek. These kinds of embarrassments followed Murphy for all of the 2000’s (only to see a glimmer of hope in his Oscar-nominated performance in “Dreamgirls, which was crushed the same year with “Norbit”).
None of that mattered anymore. Ever since I left that metaphoric puddle of liquid (yeah…metaphoric) behind in that theater I was committed to learning more about this young genius, graced with talent I would never hope to achieve.
I discovered his meteoric rise thanks to his litany of characters from “Saturday Night Live”—like Buckwheat, Gumby and Mr. Robinson—to his tremendous screen work with “Trading Places,” “Beverly Hills Cop” and “48 Hrs”. The man is a genius who got caught up in trying to stay the best. The result was a series of hits (“Nutty Professor,” “Bowfinger”) and three times as many misses (everything else). But I stand by what I said: The man is a genius, not was.
Hence why one could imagine my genuine, uncontainable glee over the last few months that all started with a minor appearance on the 40th anniversary of “SNL”. He was brought on Chris Rock (his nearest comedy equivalent) and although people were upset by his brief speech he demonstrated something I personally wasn’t expecting: Calm, cool, reflective grace. This was a far cry from the seemingly money-hungry, arrogant fame seeker that resulted in so many horrendous films.
He seemed humbled and finally willing to reopen the doors he slammed shut, distancing himself from stand-up and quality films in place of cheap-humored tripe.
I was thrilled to know my reactions were not unfounded, when I stumbled upon a Rolling Stone piece Even the picture of Murphy holding his guitar (the article focused on his surprisingly well-reviewed foray into reggae music), his eyes blissfully closed with a joyous smirk, seemed to show a Murphy at peace. In the end his discussed the long-discussed “Beverly Hills Cop 4” and his desire to not just do “a s****y movie to make some paper. S**t got to be right.” As well he talked his involvement in a small indie drama film, “Cook”. He is also working with Lee Daniels on the Richard Pryor biopic (he play the icon’s father, LeRoy).
But the greatest moment in his resurgence, aside from the newfound public demeanor and careful selection of film roles, was his brief return to stand-up when given the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor. He dusted off his impression of Bill Cosby (one that he frequently brought out during his stand-up days) to skewer the troubled comic. It was short, but brought the house down and gave me the warmest of feelings that solidified my hope: Eddie Murphy, the real Eddie Murphy, is back.
He has even thought about returning to stand-up for the first time in 27 years and we should all be gitty about this. Murphy at his prime is one of the most effortlessly funny people on the planet. He was given the gift of humor at a young age (he started stand-up at 16) and completely changed the game in the early 80’s, becoming the first true stand-up megastar—saving “SNL” to boot. Comedy has not been the same without him, but like an ancient mystical beast who has been slumbering for years, he is quickly waking up. We must all be ready.
