1970s Crime Comedy Is So Aggressively Bad It’s Iconic, Stream Without Netflix

Dolemite is the on-stage alter-ego that Rudy Ray Moore created for his stand-up act, and this character is fully explored in this film.

Dolemite’s story is simple yet effective, and leaves very little room for interpretation.

Our titular hero gets let out of prison, four years into his 20-year sentence, on orders from the mayor (Hy Pyke) to clean up the streets from the corrupt criminals that got him locked up in the first place. After being wrongfully arrested for smuggling valuable furs and drugs, he hits the streets with his loyal fellow pimp partner, “Queen Bee” (Lady Reed), who has trained her followers in martial arts.

Meanwhile, an unknown FBI agent (Jerry Jones), who will only reveal himself to Dolemite when the time is right, is watching the events unfold from afar. Our hero slowly restores his reputation while simultaneously cleaning up the streets and reclaiming his old “Total Experience” club that was bought out from underneath him by rival pimp and drug-runner, Willie Green (D’Urville Martin).

Now that we’ve gotten the entire plot out of the way, I need to get into why Dolemite is such a great movie despite its absolutely terrible production.

Dolemite is rife with technical issues, including but not limited to: choppy sound design, crew members and boom mics interrupting shots, an ancillary character known as “Creeper,” who was literally hired off the streets with no prior acting experience after production already started, and some of the worst acting you’ve ever seen in a feature-length film.

But for some reason, it just works.

The reason Dolemite is such an enthralling film is because of the insane amount of confidence that Rudy Ray Moore commands from the audience in every single frame and with every single line of dialogue.

To put it simply, Dolemite is in charge of his own destiny, willing to put up a fight, and so angry. At the same time, Dolemite isn’t supposed to be taken too seriously, as Moore was a comedian more than anything else.

The end result, whether it was intentional or not, is either a crime film that plays it straight but aggressively relies on comic relief, or a straight-up comedy that gets laughs by pretending to play it straight and failing miserably.

If I had to put my money on it, I’d say that this film falls into the latter category because part of the Dolemite persona is turning incredibly out-of-pocket phrases that also happen to rhyme.

For example, when our hero is being confronted by his antagonists, he simply says, “Man, move over and let me pass ‘fore they have be to pullin’ these Hush Puppies out your motherf*ckin’ *ss!”

On its face, this is a hilarious exchange, but Dolemite keeps a completely straight face while making good on his threats, making you wonder if the humor is intentional, or simply a byproduct of the film’s low-budget production.

For a movie that was 100 percent personally financed by Rudy Ray Moore and cast with his friends, Dolemite started as a passion project but quickly became one of the defining films of the blaxploitation genre. I liken its simple premise and confident delivery to that of a rock band that just knows how to show up and blow the roof off of the place despite being rough around the edges. There may be more technically proficient bands on the bill, but they just don’t have that “X” factor that they need to take things to the next level.

Dolemite is that next level.

If you don’t believe me, you can stream Dolemite on Tubi and see for yourself.