Dolemite is often called upon to dispense ass-whooping, which is unfortunate as his kung fu makes William Shatner look like a CGI-aided Jet Li. His primary attack is arthritically wiggling his leg at people until they remember they're supposed to fall down.
That's actually the kick on the way up. Dolemite won' let martial arts,
or basic human anatomy, get in the way of kicking ass!
Overall I'd say the choreography is maybe two notches below what you'd get with marionettes in a puppet show reenactment of The Matrix: Reloaded. Observe the below confrontation. The evil antagonist (ie, fat white guy in a suit) makes his move...
His opponent makes the exact same motion one would use to gently straighten a man's tie with your toe...
...which prompts the villain to spontaneously launch himself into the open trunk of a nearby car, off screen and out of the movie, finding the merciful reward we all hope to receive after death.
We would link the video clip for this, but right after that kick it immediately cuts to Dolemite having his favorite kind of sex: graphic and horrifying. We're thinking about implementing a subscription-based model where we show you that clip unless you pay $19.95.
Rudy Ray knows drug addicts. Rudy Ray knows whores. Rudy Ray knows a surprising number of rat-soup eating motherfuckers, but RR does not know any musicians. The excruciatingly extended music scene--one of many methods used by Mr. Moore to extend his 20 minute plot into the hour and a half demanded by The Man--features a band who could only have been hired to destroy the stereotype that black people have rhythm, and create a new stereotype that black people can't hear.
If you see these men, and they're moving, it's already too late to run.
Every character swears like a sailor on shore leave from the S.S. Tourette's, with the exception of a preacher character, who balances things out by running guns through his church and boning a woman so fat he could choose any fold at random and call it an orifice. Yet he refuses to say "motherfucker." That is an extremely specific moral line you've drawn for yourself, preacher man.
Everyone else uses language like a motherfucker with his dick in a mousetrap. The motherfucking is so intense you'll finish the movie with a new sibling. My wife had to spend a fortnight training me out of calling our cat a "rat-eating motherfucker," despite both parts of that statement actually being true for most cats.
I could go on, but hopefully by this point this article is being read by your roommate, who is wondering what exactly you saw on your computer monitor that made you race out of the apartment and toward the video store (and they will have a copy--they keep it in the safe with the cash, as an anti-theft measure). Once you settle in to watch it, keep one idea firmly planted in your mind:
Not only was Rudy Ray Moore not promptly arrested when the film was released. It made him enough money to spawn a sequel.
For more from Luke, check out Ireland's Only Kung Fu Movie (Is The Worst Film Ever Made) and 7 (Stupid) People Who Sued the Scientific Method.