Disco Godfather

Rudy Ray Moore is at his most amusing in this late-in-the-game Blaxploitation entry, playing Tucker Williams, the bombastic owner of a disco nightclub. When Tuckers' nephew Bucky (Julius J. Carry III, "The Last Dragon") flips out after taking angel dust, Tucker vows to do his part in eliminating this nasty drug from the streets of the 'hood. His nemesis will be the flamboyant Stinger Ray (Hawthorne James, "Speed"), a legitimate businessman who also dabbles in crime, and who wants to create a new basketball league that will hire castoffs from the NBA.

"Disco Godfather" is not particularly slick or distinguished, but it still does its job, entertaining solidly for 98 straight minutes. It alternates between taking itself seriously as a message movie, and pulling out all the stops in various music / dance sequences. The soundtrack is great funky stuff all the way, serving as perfect accompaniment for these wacky goings-on. In addition to various martial arts action scenes, the film gives us assorted doses of surrealism in the attempt to approximate the hallucinations that the drug users experience. It's weird, wild, consistently amusing nonsense.

RRM is fun, and is particularly hilarious when the script calls for him to emote. He's enthusiastically supported by old cohorts like Lady Reed (as Mrs. Edwards) and Jerry Jones (as Dr. Fred Mathis). James is a hoot as the villain, while Carry has an appealing presence as the kid who could potentially be throwing his basketball career down the drain. A young Keith David ("The Thing" '82, "They Live") makes his uncredited film debut in a bit role as a club patron.

Fun stuff overall.

Seven out of 10.

Disco Godfather is, quite possibly, the worst film ever made. I think that Rudy Ray Moore could have feasibly wiped his tail with the celluloid and the end result would have been a more worthy feature.

Then again, Disco Godfather is probably one of the most entertaining movies I've ever seen. Aside from the three-hour-long roller-skate-disco-dance sequences and the rants about the evils of PCP, the film (and I say "film") is a karate-fightin', rappin-rhymin', booty-shakin', disco-quakin' good time! When Rudy Ray delivers lines like "But how? AND WHY?" with a knowing glance toward his captivated audience, you know you are putty in the hands of a master craftsman. The film's supa-fly climax, a spontaneous kung-fu fest at a PCP warehouse, is one of cinema's finest moments. Just sit back, let the fists fly, and let the carefree spirit of Rudy Ray Moore's 1970's America take you away.

The really amazing thing about this movie is that almost everybody in it ended up having a career. In real films and television shows that you've actually heard of. Seriously, follow the links. I guess that you have to start somewhere. The good news is that there are lots of hot, hairy-chested, black guys in skin tight, low cut outfits. The bad news is that Rudy Ray Moore isn't one of them. He's a bit of a middle-aged blob, and he probably should have kept his man-boobs covered instead of jiggling them in my face. There, I said it. The other amazing thing is that, when the credits roll, there about three actors and about 300 dancers - disco dancers, disco skaters, featured disco dancers, featured disco skaters. Really. Which probably explains why the reporters at the press conference looked suspiciously like the featured disco dancers. Anyway, I think the moral of the story is that you're supposed to smoke angel dust before you watch the movie.

What can possibly be said about "Godfather" that hasn't already been repeated countless times in previous reviews? The plot is relatively simple: disco entrepreneur Rudy Ray pulls no punches against drug-pushers after his nephew gets "whacked out" on angel dust (PCP) one evening at the Blueberry Hill discotheque.

But to run down the plot of Disco Godfather without commenting on the stylistics would be the same as explaining the delightful flavor of a fudge brownie by listing the ingredients.

Foremost, this movie is the quintessential blacksploitation flick, complete with vigilante crime-fighting, brightly colored polyester outfits, and throbbing, string-instrumented dance music. Anybody who comes to the movie with a love for these often humorous elements of seventies blacksploitation will enjoy Rudy Ray's vigorous performance and whacky one-liners.

And as with most of Rudy's other works, the believability of the plot and the logical coherence of the characters' actions take a backseat to glamour (wasn't that was the seventies were all about, anyway)? Between the incredible hallucination sequences, the traces of a plot occasionally catch the viewer's eye only to vanish once more beneath layers of pointless (but entertaining) kung-fu, dancing, drug use, and gratuitous sex.

Watch this only if you have a stomach for the glitzy superficialness of the seventies or if you're a yuckster looking for a good laugh.

Disco Godfather is the best film ever (next to Death Drug and Slithis, of course. It is the story of Tucker Williams (the immortal Rudy Ray Moore), an ex-cop, who now runs the Blueberry Hill Disco joint. He is the one, and only "Disco Godfather"!! His entrance in the film is classic.

Tucker's nephew "Bucky", a talented basketball player, hooks up with the wrong crowd. One night at the disco, Bucky smokes too much angel dust, and gets really "whacked out." The Disco Godfather vows to "Really take it to the suckas that's producin' this sheeyit!" This movie has the anti PCP legacy that Death Drug tried so hard to mimic. Disco Godfather also shows Rudy Ray at his best. Listen as he says "put your weight on it" and "You stupid sonofa beeyitch!!" about 181 million times. He also gives the best delivery of the word "Damn" I have ever witnessed. Another great element of Disco Godfather is the PCP expert. This "doctor" looks like a jazz keyboardist, and he runs his own little PCP ward at the hospital. His dialouge is so choice, if you can make it out. If you can sit through this one, you will not be disappointed! Long live Dolomite!