"The Human Tornado"(1976)d /Cliff Roquemore

In the year of the American bicentennial with films like Taxi Driver, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Carrie, and Rocky all going knuckles up at the box-office, moviegoers had some tough choices to make. Or, they could have just checked out the movie with a one-sheet that boasts of fifties R n' B singer Rudy Ray Moore in patchwork pimp gear, twister-punching his way through a whirlwind o' white folks, and been done with it. Knowing cult audiences were instantly enamored with Moore's legendary signature rhyme-spouting, lady-pleasing, shotgun-blasting, karate-kicking, ferocious, mackadocious antidote to no business, born insecure, junkyard rat soup-eating motherfuckers, Rudy rolls him out for a righteously raucous round two, with many of the usual suspects, i.e. Lady Reed, Jimmy Lynch, Howard Jackson, and even Lord Java himself. If you're going in looking for a blaxploitative good time machine ride back to the funky seventies, you've come to the right place, I'd wager. Let's make it, fellas...


I think this one speaks for itself. High water mark in the series.
After what can be called one of the most memorable title sequences ever filmed (I've yet to ever see anything like it, many of you who've seen it will agree), we catch up with that bad motherfucker Dolemite (Rudy Ray Moore) as he's putting his weight on the sheriff's wife, just as the sheriff (J.B. Baron) and his deputy are raiding the joint for an arrest. This leads to some harsh words, one "Biiiiiiitch! Are you fo' REAAAAAAAL?",  a firefight, some dead bodies, and Dolemite rolling his bare ass down a hill in slow motion to the getaway car. Twice. He then blows up the pursuing police with a twelve gauge blast (of course, he dramatically raps as he joins the rank of cinematic cop killers) , forcing him to go on the lam, hijacking a gay dude's car to California(...where they are already, as anyone can clearly see), where one of his people, Queen Bee (Lady Reed) herself, wears outfits that make Mummers look understated and runs a nightclub where he promptly lays down some dozens-style insult comedy in a kaleidoscope of crazy-looking seventies gear on stage, and several kung fu hookers that pledge allegiance to Dolemite work out of. Only problem, a mobster named Cavaletti has designs on the Queen's action, shutting down her club, and even taking two of her girls hostage. Only one isn't technically a girl. Are you surprised by that at this point? Me, neither.


"Mules didn't bruise mah hide cuz I done doubled my size on Fatburgahs an' fries, can you dig it?"
When he's not enjoying post-coital watermelon(!!!) with old flame Hurricane Annie, he's buying new shoes and searching for clues to the performers' whereabouts, as detective/ sped up kung fu bad ass as he is pimp. Adding to the madness, is Cavaletti's old mother, who's a dungeon-dwelling, woman-torturing creep, and his middle-aged wife, who's a nymphomaniac with some heavy hangers and a serious case of jungle fever, can you dig it? Dolemite interrogates the bitch, and by "interrogates" I obviously mean, puts it on her so hard that the fucking ceiling collapses and the bedroom is totally destroyed by their lovemaking session (like a human tornado, this bad cat), which, in the end,  yields the very answers he was looking for. This leads to a full-on, sped up kung fu battle royale at the private party at Cavaletti's mansion, which looks more than a little like Dolemite's pad from the initial reel, but who's paying that much attention, baby? Howard Jackson is in attendance, both as himself and as Dolemite's obvious stunt double, for those kicks higher than knee level and punch combinations faster than your average slow jam. You'll have to see how it all wraps up for yourselves, though. See it!


"Ooooo-eeeee!This Stylistics record got my Skene's glands secretin' like a mufucka!"
Moore followed this one up with The Monkey Hu$tle, opposite the venerable Yaphet Kotto,  the same year. 1977 brought us Petey Wheatstraw, while '79 saw more than Willie Stargell publicly boogie-ing to Sister Sledge, also bringing the premiere of Moore's legendary Disco Godfather. Despite a myriad of glaring technical shortcomings much like its predecessor a year earlier, this sequel chooses to play up its obvious limitations for even more laughs, and if a blaxploitation flick is to be judged on the outrageously dated seventies gear, shuckin' and jivin', cartoonish dialog, wooden performances, across-the-board racial stereotypes, high rise afros, low rent martial arts, etc., found within it,  then we might just have the Citizen Kane of pimp flicks on our hands tonight, after all. On the scale, Tornaaaaaaada earns thee Wops the easy way, on the ornately decorated mackin' cape of the late, great Rudy Ray. Can you dig it?


"Oogah-boogahdah-boogahdah!"

"Disco Godfather"(1979)d/J. Robert Wagoner

Alright you no business, born insecure, junkyard rat soup eatin' muthafuckas, it's been a while since we've taken five on the black hand side of cult films, and really, who better to examine than Rudy Ray Moore, the late King of Party Records?If you've never seen one of his movies, you're in for a Rudy awakening.Tonight we'll examine what I consider to be his funniest(unintentionally in some scenes, as always), most outrageous vehicles in his ghetto oeuvre of low budget action comedies.In his flicks, you can always count on Moore to sport some atrociously dated threads, tacky enough to make a 70's pimp blush, horribly amateurish delivery of outrageous dialogue, visibly obvious stunt doubles, and enough hammy lens-mugging to send the portly William Shatner lumbering for his attorney.In other words, a helluva good time to be had by all!
Tonight's review is a cautionary tale concerning the dangers of smoking PCP-dipped sherms, which according to director Wagoner, will cause users to somehow experience the same hallucinations(I've done angel dust a couple of times in my formative years, and not once was I shot multiple times by black dudes in basketball uniforms or machete-slashed by an interpretive dancer in witch makeup...maybe it's a black thing,huh).Added to the cast of Moore usuals this time around is a hasty cameo by Carol Speed of "Abby" fame, who flubs most of her lines like a trooper here.Let's get to it, fellas.Put yo' weight on it!

Tucker(Rudy Ray Moore) puts his WEEEEIIIIGHT on it.
After Tucker Williams(Rudy Ray Moore) retires from the police force, he takes up residence at the Blueberry Hill discotheque as the "Disco Godfather"(logical next career move), where he mixes n' matches old rejected Star Trek costumes with gaudy jewelry and silver platform loafers and screams for local boogiers to put their weight on it, until his nephew Bucky gets caught up with a devastating new drug on the streets...angel dust.The young man stumbles into the disco,disrupting those getting down and hallucinating that he's playing basketball until his uncle gets wind of it and dramatically asks him,"BUCKY!What has you HAD!"The next morning, Tucker visits the local PCP unit, where a doctor(Jerry Jones) shows him the permanent damage smoking wack-dipped sherms has on a brother's brain, man.One woman served her four month old baby to her family on a silver platter, claiming her ham was crying and messing up her party(!).They visit Bucky in the hospital, while he's imagining a witchy woman lopping off his forearm with a machete, and the mother(Lady Reed) of one dusted girl is told they'll be introducing electroshock therapy as treatment."Oh no! Ain't nobody shockin' mah baby!"Tucker then pays the police a visit and tells the suckup detectives of his plans to rid the streets of the killer drug.Tucker's assistant, Noel(Carol Speed), then tells a reporter, "As you can see, to be a member of the disco squad of the Godfather's, you have to get funky and get down.(!)"Tucker then shows up and turns the interview to the subject of angel dust, which leaves her vowing to post the scoop on the front page.Imagine that, a nightclub owner that's anti-PCP.He's then jumped in his office by henchmen of Stinger Ray(James H. Hawthorne), the despicable afro-headed son of a bitch that's behind the wack attack.Cue the embarrassingly dated roller disco sequence at the club.

"Names! NAMES! I want names, you stupid son of a bitch!"
At a public "Attack the Wack" rally organized by Angels against Dust, Noel tells the crowd, "we wanna wack the attack!".Eh, close enough, honey.Undercover detectives foil an attempt on Tucker's life at the disco by Stinger's thugs, and afterwards the Godfather crashes a player's ball at Meat's pad, dumping an lp cover worth of nose candy on the floor to emphasize his seriousness.Then someone interrupts Tucker's lovemaking session with a dead, gutted cat nailed to his front door.After a raid turns up zero shermans, a pow wow with Lt. Hayes(Frank Finn) reveals a leak on the force.Bucky's homeboy, a street level sherm dealer, spills to Tucker that Stinger paid him five bills to turn the aspiring young disco dancer/basketball star on to angel dust.Detective Killroy(!) turns out to be the leak, and he dices himself up with a butcher knife in the bathtub to the horror of his white girlfriend.Not satisfied to wait for the arrest warrant, Tucker infiltrates the PCP factory his doggone self(in a green and yellow jogging suit,stocking cap, and canvas hi-top Converse sneakers, naturally), and with the help of a passing martial arts expert/jogger(!!)(Howard Jackson), he dispatches the sons of bitches guarding the operation.While Bucky and the cops are rushing to the rescue and Stinger Ray is destroying evidence, Tucker finds himself hogtied with a gas mask full o' wack on his grill.Whacked out on dust, he breaks lose, hallucinating the same damned things everyone else who's messed with the drug has.He stumbles upon Stinger making a hasty retreat, and in the throes of a mind-blowing trip(dig the crazy ambitious black light-ish animation here, kids!), he chokes the criminal out as the cops make the scene.The lawmen try to subdue the Godfather, who's having trouble discerning reality from his hallucinations, as he screams us right into the end credits.

Boy, coke parties are a lot different in the ghetto...
Moore would enjoy a career rebirth in the nineties, doing voice work for video games, cameos in rap videos, and successful convention appearances right until his death at age 81 in 2008.He would follow Godfather with a small cameo in Jamaa Fanaka's Penitentiary II in 1982.The doe-eyed Speed who made a name for herself in blaxploitation classics like Black Samson(1974),The Mack(1973), and the aforementioned Girdler ethno-exorcist clone, Abby(1974), would sadly drop off the radar completely after this role.Also notable is an uncredited cameo by Keith David, of The Thing(1982) and They Live(1988),as a disco patron.Though his movies are laughably inept from a technical standpoint, you can't help but think that Moore had a lot of love for his people and community, as is evident here, and that's something all of us should be cool with.Godfather puts its weight on the rating scale, and scores itself a solid two wops.The disc is available through Xenon Video, so dig it, man!

"Angel duss factory?Well let's kick ass then!" "I can dig it!"

"Petey Wheatstraw,The Devil's Son-in-Law"(1977)d/Cliff Roquemore

From a technical standpoint,the films of the late comedian/actor Rudy Ray Moore are baaaad in the most caucasian sense of the word.Visible boom mics,obvious stunt doubles,atrocious acting,cheap,gaudy sets,horrendous wardrobes,glaring continuity errors,you name the cinematic commandment and it's been kicked up the ass by silver disco platform heels,motherfuckers.From an entertainment angle,on the other hand,nearly every frame of celluloid this bad motherfucker has had a hand in,is pure gold.Moore was never one to try and hide his shortcomings on the big screen,instead he revels in the motherfuckers,can you dig it?I triple dog dare you to sit down to any of his movies(this entry included)with the alcoholic beverage of your choice,though a forty ouncer of Coqui 900 is recommended,and NOT laugh out loud at the outrageous antics that unfold before you.You won't be able to do it.And somehow,I think,'ol Dolemite knows this,and wherever the afterlife finds him,he's probably glad of his accomplished mission.Though others may have done a more admirable,less exploitative job making black movies in the seventies,Rudy Ray IS/WAS/EVER SHALL BE the face of the Blaxploitation sub-genre.

Often attacked,but never subdued,even car jackin' junkies step up to get kung fued!
During several stock footage clips of what's supposed to be "that great Florida storm",Mrs. Wheatstraw gives birth to a watermelon.Then she gives birth to an eight year old kid in underwear,who proceeds to beat down the doctor for slapping him, AND his father for disturbing his womb-rest every night.Thus begins the life of Petey Wheatstraw(Rudy Ray Moore).While fighting off some kids in a dusty ghetto alley,young Petey is taken under the wing of a homeless bum/martial arts master(or,as the credits would have you believe,"marshall arts") named Bantu,who teaches the boy to hack watermelons to pieces with a Samurai katana,as well as other fruit less popular in the African-American community.After completing his training,Petey tells Bantu he'd rather skip the whole grandmaster routine and become a comedian.Cut to present day,where rival comedians,Leroy and Skillet have just borrowed a significant amount of money from Mr. White(he's caucasian,get it?) to finance a thrilling revue of blue ethnic humor coupled with disco bands and singers at a Tardis-esque joint that could hold two thousand patrons,or fifty or so,depending on who you're talking to.Their plans are disrupted by the arrival in town and concurrent comedy show plans of Wheatstraw.Both comedy acts advertise their forthcoming gigs with markered-up posterboard fliers.When Leroy's pleas for Petey to cancel his upcoming dates fall upon deaf ears,he enlists Scarface Willie,who guns down first the twelve year old brother of one of Petey's workers("This sho nuff good!",the boy is told during a front stoop watermelon snack that Willie interrupts),then the boy's entire funeral procession,Wheatstraw included,with a Thompson machine gun,in broad daylight.Scarface Willie don't fuck around.

The dime store budget and shoddy directing didn't grab me,but Rudy,where you get that happenin' red satin cabbie?
Luckily for Petey,the Devil himself happens to be walking by,and feeling charitable,offers Wheatstraw his life back if he agrees to marry Lu's hideous daughter and sire a grandson for him.He complies,which cues a magnificent and expensive effects seque...the Devil rewinds the film itself,giving the gunned down funeral goers their lives back.With the help of Satan's cane,Wheatstraw exacts revenge on Leroy and Skillet by forcing them to insult their opening night audience,then destroying the club with at least twenty-five dollars worth of fireworks....err,umm magical special effects.His vengeance complete,Petey uses the cane to make a fat woman skinny,to transform a family's broken down car into a luxurious sedan,to save the life of a small nappy-headed child chasing his ball into the street(he punishes the boy by combing his naps out,sending him into tear-drenched hysterics),and finally whirling around in circles while no less than seventy-five dollars in ones falls from the sky in slow-motion.Wheatstraw,not particularly excited to marry Satan's ugly daughter,injects a wino with hard drugs and then slips a latex Petey mask on him to trump the dark lord and master while the comedian and his friends skip town.When this fails,an angry Lucifer sends his hell-spawned minions,decked out in dime store capes,makeup,and theatrical leotards to capture his future son-in-law,culminating in a massive chase/kung fu fight on the top of an urban building.Finally,Ol' Scratch tricks Petey into his limousine,where,upon getting first glimpse of his wife-to-be,he screams his fool head off,as the credits roll.

Scarface Willie is a despicable fuck,he shoots ten year old kids and blows up watermelon trucks.
I don't know if I've ever seen so many watermelons in a movie before.Seriously.Also,look for fellow comedian Wildman(The $6,000 Dollar Nigger) Steve as the club owner. Anyway,all the usual elements are in place for a very enjoyable screening,and if you're a Moore fan or any of this sounds appealing to you,then you oughta hunt this title down and check it out.Not quite as memorable as either of the Dolemites or Disco Godfather,Wheatstraw still manages to deliver the cheap laughs,just the same.Recent genre entries like Black Dynamite owe their existence to Rudy Ray,often borrowing entire sequences directly from his low budget classics in homage.His early "party records" were often recorded at his home,with close friends doubling as the audience,thus coining the term.He stayed active in films and music up until he lost his battle with diabetes in 2008.

The devil's walking stick?Petey'll flaunt it.Eight demonic bitches later,he still PUTS HIS WEIIIIIIIGHT ON IT!


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Rudy Ray Moore,81,dies.Bitch,are you for REAL?

Taken from his official MySpace page:
Legendary actor, filmmaker, comedian, singer, Godfather of Rap and King of the Party Records, Rudolph Frank Moore better known as Rudy Ray Moore or Dolemite has left this earthly plane.
A 60 + year veteran of the stage, the first x rated comedian, one of the first African American filmmakers and the third most sampled man in the world, his self made comedy records and films have inspired and influenced generations from a thousand walks of life and a hundred nations.
He had recently finished work on "The Dolemite Explosion" with longtime friend and costar Jimmy Lynch (his first self made film in 30 years), an album of soul ballads called "Let Me Sing To You Before I Drift Away" with his daughter Rusty, and had been Highlighted by Hadjii in an episode of "Somebodies" and was looking forward to a resurgence and a country album.
After a long battle with diabetes and obscurity, he passed peacefully on Sunday at the age of 81.
He was a good God fearing man who loved his friends and family.

editor's note:
The world is a little less pimp-o-docious without Dolemite and his humour.I'll be doing a post or two about him and his exploitation films at a later date.

Wop