David Christianson I'm not a genre expert, and enjoy blaxploitation films for their campiness, outrageous characters and jargon that has been lost in time. The enjoyable part of Dolomite is his rapping to the crowds and their reactions. I betting this is where urban rap contests started, but I could very well be wrong. The silly, over-the-top situations that litter the genre are all there, but there's really nothing else notable for story line, acting, script, etc. In fact, if you like that sort of thing, that's where Dolomite shines. Presumably made on a shoestring budget with few cameras, little editing, and technical gaffes everywhere, this seems as low budget as the genre gets. The acting is sub high-school play, the choreography is laughable - literally, and story is paper thin. I realize this is standard for the genre, but this dips into humorously bad so much any seriousness is lost. I liked it for that, and it's quirkiness, but compared to other blaxploitation entries, it is sub-par.

MisterWhiplash Oh, Dolemite, where have you gone? Sure, you're getting a revamp/parody done by Black Dynamite in 2009, but in your own time and place you were quite the bad-mother-f***er! So many bad movies, so so bad...In Dolemite, played by Rudy Ray Moore, he is about the baddest mofo around the way. He gets an early release from jail in order to take down an arch-rival, only to still have the fuzz after him on top of a whole gang of... well, anyone willing to take him on, frankly. But Dolamite's got back-up in the form of an all-girl army of kung-fu killers, and the mob, frankly my dears, don't stand a motherf***ing chance... sorry for the mother****** it comes up so much in the movie you'll loose count (certainly it would make one of the deadliest drinking games ever, or perhaps a match-up with Samuel L. Jackson).Dolamite is hardcore blaxsploitation, black to the bone and proud of it, and it even features its star, (sometimes) comedian Rudy Ray Moore, reciting poetry- not rap, *poetry*- on the streets in order to prove to folks, in true bad-ass fashion, that he is, indeed, Mr. Dolamite Esq. He's such a strange, raw screen presence that one can kind of forgive that he's not a very good actor - he reads his lines like each one is meant to make its mark on-every-step-like-THIS-motherf***er, and when he goes into martial arts mode, watch out (especially those kicks that, erm, don't connect)! Maybe it is all meant to be one big gag on Moore's part, and maybe in some backwards-ass way maybe he succeeded. Or, perhaps, not at all. It's a sight to see him at work, either way, and he's missed today.Adding to this is the direction by Mr D'Urville Martin, someone I am not familiar with and am perhaps glad to keep it that way. His work here makes Jack Hill, a competent director, look like Orson Welles; he can barely frame or light in most scenes, and the big gag (one that has been repeated uproariously, if obviously, in Black Dynamite) of the boom Mic coming into shot is one that has to be seen to be believed. Whatever sense of action or comedy he has is usually off-center, or pushed to such a trashy degree that you can't help but laugh - at it, of course, and it is on this level that Dolamite succeeds best today. It's like opening up a time capsule and instead of having a face melt ala the ark of the covenant it just hangs with jaw open, wondering how this thing even exists, or how the action works or how anything actually plays out well.And yet, it would be hard-pressed for me to find a more quotable line than the following: "When I see a ghost, I cut the mutha-f***a." That's gotta be worth something...

HaemovoreRex Certainly far, far from the quality end of the Blaxploitation genre, this nonetheless shares some of the staple ingredients which make many of its more illustrious brethren so charming. The plot concerns the titular hero (the term applied in the loosest possible manner as our man is a bit of a scumbag) who does a deal with the warden in the prison he is being held in (after he was framed by bent cops) to clean up his old hood. This our man sets about with great gusto, partially fuelled by the need to avenge the senseless murder of his nephew. It turns out that the crime in the area is far more deep rooted than a few mere drug dealers and gun runners however, indeed a whole conspiracy is afoot involving bent law enforcement officers and a dirty mayer.With multiple attempts on our heroes life and the pressure on, will our man be able to save the day? Well, if Dolemite's inimitable way with obscenities is anything to go by, then the answer is 'hell yes'!!! Indeed, Rudy Ray Moore's fast and foul outbursts are probably the real highlight here and are sure to raise much mirth. Unfortunately, matters do tend to drag when our man isn't busy berating someone which is a real shame but don't switch off just yet, for the finale in this is an absolute hoot! Yes, the final fight or perhaps more appropriately, small riot which breaks out in a night club is absolutely hilarious and showcases a plethora of poorly choreographed karate fights, our hero literally punching through a guys chest(!) and all this backed up by a cool and thumping seventies soundtrack! Damn! - What more could one wish for in a film I ask?Fellow fans of the genre will probably derive at least some enjoyment here, not least of all the aforementioned sequences but just be warned - as if to act as a reflection of just how low rent this entry is, if one were to base a drinking game on the number of times the boom mike is visible throughout the film, then you'll probably be comatose by the end credits!

lastliberal What a trip down memory lane.Do not look for great acting, believable plot lines, or anything resembling a quality movie.This is pure blaxploitation at it's finest. Outrageous outfits, unrepeatable dialog, objectification of women, and the sleaziest cops you can imagine.This vanity piece by the "Godfather of Rap," Rudy Ray Moore, who left us for good last week is the standard by which all blaxploitation is measured.You not only see blaxploitation at it's finest, but get glimpses of his comedy genius, and see why his records were kept under the counter.