Eddie Murphy in 'Being Eddie.' Courtesy of Netflix Share on Facebook Share on X Share to Flipboard Send an Email Show additional share options Share on LinkedIn Share on Pinterest Share on Reddit Share on Tumblr Share on Whats App Print the Article Post a Comment Google Preferred Logo text In the '80s and '90s, few movie titans were bigger than Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone and Eddie Murphy. The presence of just one of their names on a marquee wasn't a guarantee of quality, but darned if we didn't show up anyway. Mostly. Sorry, Last Action Hero, Rhinestone and Vampire in Brooklyn. It was a pre-social-media age, back when it was possible to feel like you loved a movie star for their aura, without feeling like they were your friend and you might enjoy hanging out with them and sharing a pizza. Being Eddie The Bottom Line Over-polished and adulatory, but engaging. Airdate: Wednesday, November 12 (Netflix)Director: Angus Wall 1 hour 43 minutes In recent years, Netflix has worked hard to correct the perceived aloofness built into being a mega-celebrity, letting these icons descend, however temporarily, from their pedestals. Related Stories Movies Idris Elba Returning for New 'Luther' Movie at Netflix (Exclusive) Business Inside Netflix House: A Big Bet On Experiential Entertainment Putting viewers on a first-name basis right from the start, documentaries like Arnold, Sly and the streamer's latest, Being Eddie, deliver amiable familiarity, indelible clip packages and a steady stream of real estate porn in the name of convincing us that, provided we avoid or at least soft-pedal certain questionable projects and personal decisions, people like Schwarzenegger, Stallone and Murphy are just like us. Only with far, far nicer homes. Like its unconnected predecessors - if Netflix were smarter, they could be unified, Monster-style, as an anthology (think Stallone - Nice Guy: The Sylvester Stallone Story) - Being Eddie isn't a great piece of documentary filmmaking, nor does its DNA include an iota of journalism. What it is, though, is consummately polished and affectionate, taking an actor who rarely seemed vulnerable or especially comfortable in the spotlight at the peak of his stardom and making him seem, for 103 minutes, thoroughly at ease. Does Being Eddie give the impression that Eddie Murphy is revealing a single thing that he hadn't decided in advance that he would reveal? Heck no. But he's so relaxed and likable and "candid" - "candor" is a documentary aesthetic, like "realistic" - that Murphy almost sells himself as a wildly wealthy, wildly brilliant everyman. Directed by Oscar-winning editor Angus Wall (who will always have a place in my heart as one of the creative forces behind the opening credit sequence for Apple's Pachinko), Being Eddie smooths over any bumpy patches to deliver a clean arc to Murphy's life - from Richard Pryor-loving kid to precocious SNL breakout to boundary-breaking movie star to family movie guru to beloved elder statesman, family man and trailblazer. It's an arc celebrated and illustrated by talking heads ranging from Dave Chappelle, Jerry Seinfeld and John Landis to Jerry Bruckheimer, Jeffrey Katzenberg and Elvis Mitchell. It wasn't a life without adversity, but all you can hope for from this documentary is gentle, smiling acknowledgment of a few moments when Murphy's career went off-track. He chuckles about Vampire in Brooklyn, admits that the timing of Norbit hindered his Oscar hopes for Dreamgirls and recommends to young actors that, while it's important to play a variety of roles, one should never play a rocket ship (a reference to the otherwise unnamed Meet Dave). He observes that for a handful of years, he stopped acting entirely because of the quality of stuff he was making, but he doesn't single out Mr. Church or A Thousand Words as a nadir. There isn't a hint of deep introspection about professional failures or missteps - just a wry amusement that in a multi-decade career, mistakes will be made. Murphy's falling out with Saturday Night Live is given slightly less varnished treatment; he admits to the betrayal he felt at David Spade's notorious "falling star" joke, though he's careful to place the blame on the show's creative process and not on Spade. Murphy's return to SNL for a 2019 hosting stint becomes the documentary's pivotal sequence, with a number of cast members talking about having him back in the fold and great behind-the-scenes footage of Murphy, Tracy Morgan, Chris Rock and Chappelle just shooting the shit backstage. Then again, it's odd how much of a documentary released in 2025 pivots around this 2019 moment, but I guess the time gap gave the production opportunities to film Eddie and his happy family at his impressively over-the-top home, which has a bowling alley and an atrium with a retractable roof. Wall is less interested in delving into bumps in Murphy's personal road. Honestly, it isn't the least bit odd that the documentary completely ignores M