Disco Godfather

Another blaxploitation home run from Rudy Ray Moore, star of Petey Wheatstraw and the Dolemite films. Cheap, amateurish, often unintentionally hilarious film about one man's crusade to rid of the streets of "the whack" -- aka angel dust or PCP -- after his nephew Bucky freaks out on the drug. If you've seen a Rudy Ray Moore film before, you know what kind of craziness to expect. If you haven't, you're in for a treat.

First, take whatever you know about movies and throw it out the window. There is no professional filmmaking going on here. It's all crudely staged, badly acted, and poorly written. Well, assuming it's actually written at all. I get the feeling with Moore's films a large amount of the dialogue is made up on the spot. Now this sounds fairly terrible and on an artistic and technical level it is. But you don't watch these movies because they're actually good films. You watch them because they are so bad they're funny.

The action scenes are a farce. Grown men pretending to use kung-fu on one another, emulating what they saw in Bruce Lee movies. Hands and feet supposedly striking but not coming within a foot of their target. There's a hilariously bad sex scene between Moore and a woman that should come as a surprise to no one, given Moore's somewhat effeminate mannerisms.

One of my favorite scenes is where the frustrated doctor cries out to God: "Where are you Mister? Are you with us or just in our minds?" Who would have thought you would find religious metaphysics in a movie called Disco Godfather? But the highlights of the movie for most people would be the PCP hallucination scenes, as well as just about any line Moore delivers in his trademark amateur style.

If you enjoy blaxploitation films or if you enjoy poorly made films that are good for unintended laughs, then give Disco Godfather a shot. While you're at it, try out some of Moore's other movies. Especially Petey Wheatsraw, the Devil's Son-in-Law.

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.

A retired cop becomes a DJ/celebrity at the Blueberry Hill disco -- he is the Disco Godfather! All is well until his nephew flips out on a strange new drug that is sweeping the streets, called "angel dust" or PCP.

What the heck is this? A disco movie? A drug movie? A police movie? I have no idea, and it seems that nobody else does either. And yet, it works... goodness gracious, it works. This is one crazy film and anyone who is into b-movies or cult films is sure to enjoy it.

I do not know much about PCP, but the effects it has on the people in this movie definitely make me want to stay away. These same effects might cause other people to seek the drug out. More than 30 different analogues of PCP were reported as being used on the street during the 1970s and 1980s, though, so who knows what you might be getting.

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.