Written by Sarah

Last month it was announced that Brett Ratner would be co-producing the Oscars in 2012. This struck me as hilarious, mostly because the Academy is so transparently desperate to put on a show that will appeal to the kids that they hired a director known for driving franchises into the ground. And then that man, in all his “wisdom”, hired Eddie Murphy to host. Eddie Murphy, a once-great comedian twenty years past his prime. The kids are going to loooooove this.

Honestly, there is a part of me that thinks Murphy can pull this off. The part of me that would sneak out of bed late on a Saturday night to watch Murphy on SNL, the part of me that still remembers the first time I saw Eddie Murphy: Raw—that part of me thinks Murphy would be a great Oscar host. But a bigger part of me remembers the parade of awful that has been Murphy’s career over the last decade and more. Meet Dave. Pluto Nash. Vampire in Brooklyn. The Dr. Doolittle remake and its sequel. The Haunted Mansion. Daddy Day Care. NORBIT. He starred in some of the most enduring comedies of the 1980’s (Trading Places, Coming to America, 48 Hours, Beverly Hills Cop), but if it wasn’t for Dreamgirls, Murphy’s recent resume would belong in the toilet (and don’t Shrek me—vocal work isn’t the same).

Ratner and Murphy have thrown their lots in together a lot recently. Murphy is starring in Ratner’s upcoming Tower Heist, and Ratner is producing Murphy’s live-action version of the Hong Kong Phooey cartoon. Now Murphy is hosting Ratner’s Oscars. He seems to be counting on Ratner to make him relevant again, and that just makes me sad for Eddie Murphy. Once one of the most blazingly funny, angriest comics working, now he’s fat suits and voiceovers, totally lost his edge, and what the Oscars need so badly is just that—edge. Combine that with Murphy’s not-so-secret desire to win an Oscar, and I’m envisioning a night of ass-kissing and uncomfortable, “please let me in your club” begging from Murphy. There will be a fat suit at some point. I put money on it.

You think it was painful watching James Franco and Anne Hathaway’s “Sleepy and Speedy” routine this year? Imagine how hard it will be to watch Eddie Murphy bomb.


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File photo from Wenn.com