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Somewhere in a major university, a grad student is writing a thesis entitled "The Emasculation of the Black Comic." Starting with Richard Pryor, moving through Bill Cosby, and up to today's generation of tv dads such as Bernie Mac, Damon Wayans, and D.L. Hughley, the thesis could address why almost every African-American male comic has had to invert his stand-up demeanor and become soft and cuddly to achieve mainstream (i.e., white) success. The primary point of reference would be Eddie Murphy.

Those under the age of 30 probably don't realize that Murphy was once a brutally funny, racially charged comic. He sprung to fame as a young, skinny black guy on the otherwise lily-white "Saturday Night Live." I can still remember his savage imitations of Stevie Wonder and James Brown ("getting hot in the hot tub!"), and his biting Mr. Robinson's Neighborhood, in which the kindly Mr. Rogers has been transformed into a thief who breaks into your apartment. I suspect that bit wouldn't have survived in the more pc '90s, but Murphy knew how to take a stereotype and subvert it. The same was true in his early film work. Even blockbuster movies like Beverly Hills Cop and Trading Places didn't skirt the socio-economic issues of Murphy's race. Eddie was black and proud of it, and his in-your-face delivery along with the classic trickster persona was designed to make white audiences at least slightly uncomfortable.

But somewhere in the '90s, Eddie Murphy lost his way. Box-office and critical disasters like The Distinguished Gentleman and Vampire in Brooklyn sent his stock into the basement. The heir apparent to Richard Pryor was facing his forebear's own fiscal difficulties--he couldn't get a movie made, and he was being usurped by younger, more marketable comics. That all changed, though, with two movies: The Nutty Professor and Dr. Dolittle. Both took Murphy's outsized persona and shrunk it, removing any bitterness, aggressiveness, or hint of social commentary. You can even argue that Murphy's race was bleached out of existence. Professor Klump was clearly African-American but of the benign, sheepish variety, a black man who wouldn't threaten a fly. Yes, Buddy Love (the incarnation of Murphy's original persona) would sometimes appear, but he would be quickly squelched out of existence, so that the mild-mannered Klump could re-take center stage. And that new persona was a huge hit with both black and white audiences. The inevitable sequels followed, and suddenly Eddie Murphy was the nice man you could take your kids to see. Which brings us to Daddy Day Care.

Daddy Day Care is what you get when you need something like Dr. Dolittle but you don't want to do yet another sequel. Murphy plays Charlie Hinton, a food company marketing executive who's fired when his vegetable-filled cereal doesn't sell well with the pre-teen set. He and his best friend Phil (Jeff Garlin) have trouble finding real work, so they get the idea to start a day care center out of Charlie's house. At first, moms aren't terrifically excited leaving their young 'uns with two middle-aged men, but the lack of quality alternatives breaks down their resistance.

The film's first half hour, in which the guys lose their jobs and then contemplate various employment schemes, is a nightmare. Not only do the jokes fall with a resounding thud, but the characters and situations are hopelessly generic and predictable. Nonetheless, once the movie actually focuses on the day care center, I found myself entertained. The child actors they've lined up--starting with 4-year-old Khamani Griffin as Charlie's son Ben--are endearing without acting as if they're starring in a commercial. And Murphy is surprisingly good as a dad learning how difficult it is to raise a child. I'm sure you've seen the commercial, but the scene when he discovers a mess in the bathroom is genuinely funny. A mom sitting in front of me was laughing even louder than I was, amused by what I'm sure are real-life situations. But my favorite sequence might be the bizarre big-time wrestling match between a piece of broccoli and a carrot.

The movie gets even better when Charlie and Phil need to hire a third worker named Marvin (Steve Zahn). This stereotypical Trekkie adds some clever lines and an interesting dynamic as the three grown-ups start to bond. But just when I thought Daddy Day Care might transcend its premise, the third act kicks in. You see, the popularity of the guys' center starts stealing business from the day care place across town run by Anjelica Huston. Which means that she has to do her best to ruin their hard work. Then, as if that wasn't predictable enough, Charlie and Phil are offered their old jobs back, which forces the audience to sit through the painfully overdone conflict of whether our heroes will choose money and prestige over family and fulfillment. No points if you guess correctly.

In fact, the final half hour is just as bad as the first half hour. We even have the disgrace of Cheap Trick showing up to sing "Surrender" (yes, please), which is the topping on a dull, banal soundtrack ("Takin' Care of Business," "Kung Fu Fighting," "ABC," etc.). Add in too many moments when various adults are kicked in the shin, kicked in the groin, kicked in the foot, or chased by bees, and you have the full panoply of kiddie-flick stupidity. To Murphy's credit, his acting seems to overcome much of this; his daddy figure is wonderfully sweet, and his comic moments are usually winners. It helps that his co-stars are the ones taking the physical abuse.

It's not that I necessarily have a problem with Eddie softening his image and becoming an acceptable mainstream comedian. But why is almost every African-American comic having to go that route to achieve success? White comics like Jim Carrey, Mike Myers, and the late, great Andy Kaufman were allowed to keep at least some of their edge. Damon Wayans burst onto the scene with the scandalously funny "In Living Color," but now he's peddling Cosby platitudes on "My Wife and Kids." Same for Hughley and Bernie Mac. Only Chris Rock seems to hang on to some shred of social relevance, but all that's got him are box office blahs. And Eddie Murphy is reduced to pee and poop jokes to please the children. 

J. Robert Parks 5/18/2003