“Being Eddie” is the latest Hangin’ with an Icon doc to drop on Netflix. The streamer has previously given us non-fiction flicks where celebs like Sylvester Stallone and Martha Stewart roam around their gigantic properties, reminiscing about the ups and downs they went through to become the wealthy-as-hell, pop-culture phenomena they are today. Now, it’s Eddie Murphy’s turn.
The comedy legend wanders around his California mansion—complete with a retractable roof—cracking jokes, entertaining his family, and watching episodes of his guilty pleasure show “Ridiculousness” (which reminds him of Alejandro Jodorowsky films) in the bummy-casual doc. Every now and then, he’ll sit down and mosey down memory lane for director/veteran film editor Angus Wall’s camera, flipping through old fan magazines and talking about his days as a leather suit-wearing rock star.
“Being Eddie” takes you back to Murphy’s lightning-fast rise from “Saturday Night Live” scene-stealer to A-list movie star, coming with hits (“48 Hrs.” “Shrek”) and misses (yes, “Vampire in Brooklyn” gets mentioned) and inspiring future comedy stars along the way. Dave Chappelle, Chris Rock, Kevin Hart, and his recent “The Pickup” co-star, Pete Davidson, are just some of the contemporary peers who confirm Murphy’s influence on them.
Murphy often sits with a cocked head to the side when he talks, remaining both sage and suave as he tells his life story, often looking like he’s surprised most of it happened to him. This formerly scrawny kid from Roosevelt, Long Island, had a mission to be a star, and it happened—way too early, you might say. Dude was still in his early twenties when “Beverly Hills Cop” made him a megastar. You’d think that Murphy would have some hella hedonistic anecdotes from that time. But Murphy swears he’s a shy, straight-edge square; he even turned down coke from John Belushi and Robin Williams.
Of course, “Being Eddie” gets into Murphy’s now-decades-long, self-imposed exile from stand-up. While Murphy says his superstardom prevented him from working material out in clubs, I can’t help but think that Murphy looks back on his raw and delirious stand-up years—some of his jokes, especially involving gay people and women, have not aged well—with a bit of embarrassment. Those jokes may have made him a star, but it also set off a wave of Black comedy (“Def Comedy Jam,” anyone) where homophobia, misogyny, and excessive dick-swinging became the norm. In retrospect, all those family comedies he started doing in the ‘90s and ‘00s now seem like him atoning for his wicked youth.
But much like those aforementioned Netflix docs, “Being Eddie” prefers to give a less problematic hagiography of its star. John Landis shockingly shows up to riff about his experiences directing Murphy in “Trading Places” and “Coming to America.” But neither Murphy nor Landis goes into their now-notorious clashes on the “America” set. (Even though Murphy once said Landis had a better chance working with Vic Morrow again than with him, they did reunite for the better-left-forgotten “Beverly Hills Cop III.”)
While both Murphy and the movie exude a lively, laid-back coziness, an unshakable cloud of death hangs over this thing. Murphy admits he’s had to bury a lot of people over the years, from mentors to friends to the people he impersonated on “SNL.” (He forked over dough to give the actor who played the original Buckwheat from “Our Gang” a proper headstone.) Even his fellow young, Black trailblazers from the ‘80s—Michael, Prince, Whitney—are all gone. Memories and interview snippets from Charlie Murphy, Eddie’s big brother/former head of security/“Chappelle’s Show” star who died of leukemia in 2017, are also sprinkled throughout this film.
But Murphy refuses to look back in anger. The man remains optimistic, even when discussing death. With Murphy’s 2019 return to “SNL” serving as the joyous finale, “Being Eddie” presents an Eddie Murphy who seeks to entertain (on his own terms, of course) as long as he’s still got air in his lungs. His days of big entourages and bad-boy swagger far behind him, Eddie Murphy is now comfortable being a freakishly talented family man/comic Buddha. And after you see the way that he lives in “Being Eddie,” can you blame him?
