Coming 2 America Movie Review: Nowhere to Go

A still from Coming 2 America. Picture courtesy/PR

Coming 2 America
Cast: Eddie Murphy, James Earl Jones, Arsenio Hall, Jermaine Fowler, Shari Headley, Teyana Taylor, Michael Blackson, Louie Anderson
Director: Craig Brewer
Rating: ''

It's been thirty years since Prince Akeem (Eddie Murphy) first came to America, and the interim while having lent immortality to that specific of comedy doesn't appear to have had any growth in terms of creativity. Murphy and company are back but their arrival on screen is not necessarily a thing of great joy.

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John Landis' hit 1988 comedy, showcased Zamunda as a fictional African country untouched by colonialism, and celebrated ‘pure' Black culture through fashion, music and dance. The jokes were memorable and the joi-de-vivre contagious. This sequel takes the story forward but it also loses out on the clear-cut essence of the original.

Prince Akeem Joffer, all set to become King of Zamunda, discovers he has a son in America, Lavelle, living in Queens, New York. Given that he and wife Lisa (Shari Headley) have three daughters and since it's his royal father King Jaffe Joffer's (James Earl Jones) dying wish, he sets out with old side-kick Semmi (Arsenio Hall) to bring home the Prince in order to groom him as the next King-in-waiting. They have to make their foray swift in order to prevent Zamunda from falling into the hands of General Izzi (Wesley Snipes), the despot of neighbouring Nexdoria. So,(obviously), their stay in America is all-too-brief.

The earlier film's fish-out-of-water construct had us completely regaled but this sequel can't effectively spring from that platform because Akeem has already been there, done that. And aiming for a Next Generation spin, by flipping the script without creating new occasions for humour doesn't quite cut it. The young man from Queens, Lavelle Junson (Jermaine Fowler), catapulted into a strange new life in Zamunda doesn't have the same effect Akeem's had. Fresh add-ons Leslie Jones, Wesley Snipes, Tracy Morgan, and Nomzamo Mbatha do well to fit in.

The writers try to reuse the same old punch lines in order to mine remembered laughter. While the race and class disparities largely remain in a post-Obama America, there's a moving forward in a sense that this film is unable to capitalise on. Even the African Centrism exhibited in Zamunda feels out of place in the new world order. The use of musical numbers by En Vogue and Gladys Knight lend the film a feel of the late '80s. When Director Craig Brewer runs out of sequences to recreate, he just relays the old clips and revives Murphy's multiple identities' shtick. And it's neither memorable nor funny. The CG enhanced flashbacks fail to add novelty to a tired, limp, lackluster experience. Eddie Murphy's attempt to revive his career appears to be sinking under the weight of his own extraordinary history.