Netflix’s Being Eddie invites audiences into Eddie Murphy’s world like never before — and somehow, after nearly 50 years of knowing his work, it still feels fresh.
Directed by two-time Oscar winner Angus Wall (The Social Network, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button), this isn’t your typical documentary. It’s not about fame, flashbacks, or talking heads analyzing a legend. Being Eddie is about stillness. It’s about presence. It’s about sitting with Eddie Murphy — the man behind the laughter — as he reflects on the life he’s lived and the legacy he’s still shaping.
What makes this film special is its intimacy. It doesn’t rush through his career; it lets you breathe in the moments. You’re not watching a performance — you’re spending time with Eddie. The camera lingers as he shares stories, jokes, and reflections that remind you how naturally funny and self-aware he is.
Yes, there are moments of nostalgia — clips from his early stand-up, SNL days, and his legendary films like Coming to America, The Nutty Professor, and Boomerang. But what hits hardest isn’t the highlight reel. It’s the quiet confidence. The understanding that this man doesn’t need to prove anything.
Eddie knows exactly who he is. He’s self-aware enough to joke about his misses and humble enough to recognize the weight of his hits. As much as he’s made movies for everyone, you can tell he’s always been intentional about who he surrounds himself with — especially other Black artists. He’s accepted in every room, but he’s always brought someone with him. He’s a friend to the culture in every sense.
And when he talks about his life in the ’80s — calling it “the greatest ’80s life” — you believe him. The stories he hints at feel legendary, and you can tell that era shaped him in ways words can barely capture. It makes sense why he’s content now — he’s lived the wildest chapters and earned the peace that follows.
There’s a moment in the doc where he says he wanted to be “funny like Richard, cool like Elvis, and big as the Beatles.” That line encapsulates everything. Because sitting there watching him, you realize — that’s exactly who he became.
I didn’t grow up on Richard Pryor; I grew up on Eddie Murphy. For me, it was Doctor Dolittle, The Nutty Professor, and Coming to America. Those films shaped my childhood, and they reminded me that Black stories could be universal and joyful — not just heavy or limited. Eddie made that possible.
Ultimately, Being Eddie reminded me what greatness really looks like. It’s not loud. It’s not boastful. It’s the calm confidence of someone who’s done the work, changed the game, and doesn’t need to say much more.
And okay — shoutout to his house, because when that camera pulled back, I said, “Oh, this man has a courtyard inside his house? I don’t even make enough money to be watching this.”
Being Eddie isn’t about performance. It’s about presence. And Eddie Murphy’s presence reminds you what effortless greatness feels like.
Being Eddie is now streaming on Netflix.