Eddie Murphy
In 48 HrsMurphy’ plays convict
Reggie Hammond who reluc
tantly assists tough cop Nick
Nolte in finding some cop kill
ers. That's director Walter Hill
in the beard.
a car causes crew members to smile nervously
Murphy, standing next to Walter Hill, watches as the two stunt
doubles of him and Nolte run through the scene He txxis approv
ingly as his look-alike launches two quick jabs into the Nolte
double's face But this is not a fight th.it Hammond is destined to
win. After having a garbage can bounced off his ribs, the Murphy
look-alike is hoisted high overhead, and given a full bodv slam into
a pile of garbage.
After tlie stuntmen finish, Murphy will take the place of the dou
ble to enable Hill to get close up shots of Murphy in the scene. Hill
turns to Murphy, "So. w hat do you think of your first fight scene?"
Murphy shrugs He's a little apprehensive about going before the
cameras to take a pummeling, so lie tries to joke. "It's okay, but do
I have to lx* thrown in the gathagi'3 " It's a rhetorical question
Murphy walks across the street, reach to film the scene, as the crew
members gather to watch Murphy in action. During his work on
the film, he has earned tlx*ir respect as a professional, and purlieu
larly from the film's director Walter Hill
Hill, of course, had even, reason to worry about working w ith
someone who had never done a film before But lx* had seen Mur
phy on television and sensed his potential On Sutunitn Night
Utv. Eddie was clearly a conus Ik performer, but one who lent
himself to doing acting." Hill says, I didn't want to hire a come
dian, I wanted an actor. But at the same time, f wanted someone
who would lx* spontaneous and bring something conxdic to the
part."
Hill thinks his gamble paid oti And lx* believes that Murphv s
doing a dram.uic role for his first movie will pay off tor Murphy as
well "To me," says Hill, It s an indication of his intelligence not to
run r>ft and do MetUhtills •> for his debut film It's good to take on a
different kind of problem and lx* perceived in a different kind of
context"
It's a strategy that obviously didn't escape Murphy, either He had
been offered many films, but decided to sit back, take his time and
analyze all the offers without rushing to any one picture. "Rather
than do a comedy, which was what everyone was expecting,” says
Murphy. "1 thought I'd do a serious movie. 1 doubt if I'll ever do
anything that has this much seriousness again This is a great expe
Hence, but my heart is in (he yuks.”
Murphy, like many a young comic before him, refined his skills
at that great comic breeding ground of American society known as
high school. His childhood was not without the little traumas that
art* a part of growing up Murphy's parents were divoueil when he
was three and his father, Charles, a New York policeman, died
w hen Murphy was 1- After Eddie's mother Lillian remarried, his
step father Vernon Lynch moved the family from Brooklyn to
Roosevelt, Long Island, a predominantly black middleclass suburb,
where Murphy grew up with his two brothers. It was Roosevelt
High School where Murphy came into his own.
Aside from the run-of-the-mill practical jokes, such as calling in
bomb scares, spraying mace in the hallways, or giving wedgies
(ripping oui someone’s underwear from the rear) to unsuspecting
classmates, Murphy mastered the ait of the devastating New York
putdown, known as ranking. "1 was able to rank on people real
gixxl” says Murphy. “And whenever there was a talent show, I was
always selected to be the emcee
“See, the kids at Roosevelt had this real short attention span. If
you weren't any gixxi in the first two or three seconds of your act,
they heckled you. They needed someone who could keep control,
so Ld rank them, l ike, Hey, your mother's got a wooden leg with a
kick stand.' That would shut them up. Eventually 1 started doing
impressions and stuff, but my act was basically all putdowns”
At 16 Murphy started doing talent shows, wangled his way onto
some cable TV shows and was even finding steady work at one
Long Island comedy club. Armed with self confidence and the
rudimentary beginnings of an act, Murphy was on his way. “By this
time, I was performing three, four times a week. And my report
card was showing tt” But still, Murphy was pocketing more money
than he ever had and this enticed him further.
The (Ion# Show was in its heyday at this time and many comedy
clubs would advertise Gong Show Nights, an anything-goes assort
ment of potluck comedians who vied for a $50 cash prize.
“Whenever 1 needed money, 1 would scan the papers for a bar hold
ing a Gong Show Night It was easy money, no problem.
"Eating Boogers — that was my killing routine. Then, Butterflies
Landing on S-t. Classy stuff. And Farts. Farts was a killer. You could
always count on Farts. I'd be driving to a club, figuring out my set.
I'd think, I'll do Eating Boogers, Butterflies and Farts — Killer set.”
He was travelling more and more and when he was finally
graduated from high school, Murphy attended Nassau Community
College for all of two weeks. But Eddie knew that his future wasn’t
to be found in the hallways of a bock palace. "If you want to be a
performer," he says, "and you are going to school, 1 think you're
wasting your time”
“I wasn't concerned about his future," says Eddie's mother Lil
lian. “Although he wasn’t keeping his grades up, 1 knew he would
end up doing something where he wouldn't have to get his hands
dirty” Murphy found himself in his comedy. By the time he was 18,
Murphy was touring the country, playing nightclubs. “I had gone
fust Eating Boogers. and had a classy link- act." vivs Murphy
The comedian was performing .« a Ft Lauderdale night club
during tire summer of 1980 when BcJi 'Sachs, Murphy's manager,
summoned him to New York and sent him to audition for wh.il was
to be a new and improved version of Sufunin Night Luc The
entire cast had left, and NBC was starting over, from scratch "1
submitted Eddie." savs Boh \Yachs, "and through a series of very
gruc'ss'me. long hard interviews and auditions. Eddie got the port."
It tiHik si\ auditions during a one month period beftire Murphy
received the word that he had been hired. Murphv remembers
well the resistance t\ had initially before trying out for the show
1 really didn't want to he on noSatttnluy Night Lite l wanted to be
a stand-up comic. 1 mean, l was 19. travelling all over the place,
making like fstxi a week, while my friends were all working in
department stores. My life w as perfect.’’
That life changed when lie became a feature player, a sort of
second stringer who did bit parts in sketches, during the 1980-81
season But what was thought to he a blessing almost turned out to
he the kiss of death during that disastrous season, w hich almost
saw the show destroyed.
After Lome Michaels, the show s original producer, left along
with the rest of the charter member irregulars, NBC, with much
hoopla, promoted Jean Doumanian, the associate producer, to the
top spot Doumanian ux>k control and hired a new cast, new staff,
new writers and gave the show a new look, namely failure. Once
the crown jewel of late night comedy, the Doumanian reign was
like a sit ing of paste pearls SatunUn Night live earned universally
negative reviews and the ratings began to take a nose dive
For the 1981 82 season, Doumanian was ingloriously put out to
pasture, as were all hut two of the original cast. The survivors were
Eddie Murphy and Joe Piscopo. With Dick Ebersol, the NBC pro
gram executive who was in charge of the show's original launch in
19"S, appointed to the helm, SNI. made slow, but steady improve
ments last season. One reason was the spotlighting of the talents of
Murphy, who was allowed to cast off his feature status. He became
a full-fledged cast member and given almost total freedom. He now
writes his own material, is allowed to regularly introduce off-beat
characters, and is pulling in a reported $-t,S0() a show.
Murphy was upset at being held back his initial year with the
show. "They said 1 was ttx> young and 1 wouldn't know how to
handle success. That was Jean. She told me, We don't want another
Freddie Prinze on our hands. " Yet Murphy refuses to lay blame
with Doumanian for the show's eventual collapse.
"Jean meant well. She just had no comedic background. You
have to blame the network. 1 mean, if I was driving down the street
with Stevie Wonder and said, 'Stevie, you drive,' you can’t blame
Stevie if we crash. You have to blame me.”
As for Murphy’s long term goals, don't look for any crashes in his
future, although the Freddie Prinze syndrome is something that he
thinks about, even jokes about. “In the true tradition of young
celebrity, 1 think I'll die in a plane crash.
"No, look, I’m not dying no time soon. I want to be the first guy
to ever be successful at an early age and not croak and not kill
himself. That’s my plan. Stay successful and not die. I'm 21 years
old, 1 don’t see myself puttering out. Or 1 hope not, anyway.”
Looking to the future, Murphy hopes to do a feature film that he
is writing called I’m Gonna Get You, Sucker, a sendup of black
exploitation films. He should have plenty of time to finish writing
it. Murphy plans to leave Saturday' Night Hie at the end of its cur
rent season and take a much deserved rest. After all, last season’s
edition ended on May 22. Two days later Murphy was in San Fran
cisco filming 48 HRS.' exterior street scenes with Nick Nolte. He’s
been working ever since.
Now, on a Los Angeles street corner taken over by movie people,
Murphy is about to fight. Director Walter Hill gives the orders.
“Places. Roll ’em.”
All goes well, with Murphy ducking and rolling with the
punches. The crowd grows larger as the scene unfolds. The climac
tic moment has arrived. The stuntman places one hand between
Murphy's legs and the other on his back, lifting him high into the
air to slam him into the pile of trash.
The director yells, "Cut.” As Murphy is hoisted overhead, there’s
a smile on his face as wide as a tunnel. “Let’s try it again, ” says Hill.
Murphy runs through his paces a second time, on the receiving
end of the fast and furious blows. He is picked up and without a
hitch is slammed down hard into the pile of garbage. Hill kxiks
pleased. “That’s a keeper,” he says.
The crowd, which has grown to nearly concert size, breaks into a
round of spontaneous applause, while Murphy, in the pile of trash,
looks around, puzzled, then gets up slowly, slightly disoriented.
Bouyed by the mixture of attention and relief that the scene is
completed, Murphy pulls himself together and starts walking
methodically to the stunt double, his mood growing more lively
with each step.
Finally, Murphy is standing face to face with the massive
stuntman. He looks him in the eye. “I kicked your butt, sucker,”
says Mutphy.
They both break out laughing, and Eddie Murphy walks to the
street corner and readies himself for the next scene.