Mr. Church

Man, this type of role is really out of pocket for Eddie Murphy. He isn't funny, and he isn't particularly interesting.

It's repugnant for its dehumanizing view (however unintentionally so) of a black man, and repugnant for its emptying-out of one of the great black performers of the time into a sanitized symbol of acceptable blackness.

After helming this, an episode of Roots and Best Picture-winner Driving Miss Daisy, Beresford should be forced to join 'Subservient Cinematic Negroes Anonymous.'

Murphy's low-key but affecting performance is filled with loaded and loving glances. And the restraint becomes the 55-year-old star. If only the film were better.

Eddie Murphy gives a thoughtful, nuanced, sensitive performance in a film that suffers from a too-predictable script and suffers even more from very bad timing.

Murphy is fine as the title character, although his performance consists mostly of suppressing all of his usual shtick. He certainly doesn't endow Mr. Church with any unexpected depths. But then neither does the script.

This is the film is not only the comeback that Eddie Murphy needed but the comeback he deserved.

Certain frustrations aside, Mr. Church does make you feel and on several occasions brings a quiet sense of beauty in a life lived with love and a few heartwarming moments.

If you're in the mood for some soppy, sentimental stuff, give this film a try.

The problem is that the character is so underwritten that Murphy has almost nothing to do other than look restrained and dignified.