Eddie Murphy has carried a complicated reputation for years, celebrated as a once‑in‑a‑generation comic talent while also associated with uneven projects and long, quiet stretches.
Being Eddie, Netflix’s 2025 documentary directed by Angus Wall, arrives after a mini‑renaissance fueled by Dolemite Is My Name, his warmly received Saturday Night Live return, and franchise revivals like Coming 2 America and Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F.
Instead of revealing shocking new information, the film gently shifts how audiences talk about him, tilting attention toward resilience, work ethic, and historical impact.
Major outlets such as The Hollywood Reporter and Variety describe the documentary as slick and affectionate, more interested in celebrating Murphy’s status than questioning it.
That tone matters, because it steers the reputational effect toward reinforcement rather than disruption: viewers are invited to revisit his rise from Saturday Night Live breakout to 1980s box office titan without being asked to re‑litigate every misstep.
For many fans and casual viewers, this feels less like a cold investigation and more like a guided tour through a hall of fame career, curated largely on Murphy’s terms.
The visibility bump alone is significant. With Netflix’s reach, younger audiences who mainly know him as Donkey from Shrek are introduced to the shock of his early stand-up and the risk‑taking energy of films like 48 Hrs., Trading Places, and Beverly Hills Cop.
Critics point out that the documentary effectively restores a sense of scale around his 1980s success , reminding viewers that a young Black comedian not only headlined studio comedies but drove their global box office in a way few had before. That historical framing nudges his reputation from nostalgic favorite to foundational figure.
Being Eddie also emphasizes Murphy’s personal temperament in ways that subtly polish his image. Reviews and therapist reaction videos note how he comes across as calm, guarded, and surprisingly shy, repeatedly stressing that he avoided the substance abuse patterns that derailed many peers and preferred a relatively quiet home life.
This portrayal counters old stereotypes of him as purely ego‑driven or chaotic and instead suggests a survivor who learned to protect his sanity while remaining highly productive.
The film further underlines his influence on other Black performers. Commentators highlight sequences that place him in a lineage leading to stars like Jamie Foxx, Kevin Hart, and others who benefited from doors he helped open in mainstream comedy and action.
By framing him as a turning point in Hollywood’s treatment of Black comic leads, the documentary encourages audiences and critics to judge his career not just by hits and flops but by structural impact, which tends to lift his standing in retrospective coverage.
Too Soft On The Past? Why Some Say It Did Not Go Far Enough
For all the warmth, Being Eddie has drawn a consistent critique: it is too gentle when it reaches the difficult parts of Murphy’s history.
Reviews from outlets such as The Times of India and several online critics argue that the film feels like “PR in documentary clothing,” focusing on career milestones and nostalgic reflection while largely sidestepping harder conversations about homophobic material in his early stand-up, notorious flops, and the full consequences of past public scandals.
Variety and others describe it as engaging but overly upbeat, especially when the narrative moves into his rockier middle years and personal turbulence.
Being Eddie (Credit: Netflix)
Instead of digging into how those controversies shaped him or hurt others, the film tends to jump between present‑day interviews and well‑chosen archival clips that keep the emotional tone mostly warm.
For viewers who hoped for a more searching portrait, this approach limits how much the documentary can truly reshape his reputation at a deeper ethical level.
However, that softness does not appear to damage him among most fans.
Audience reactions on platforms like IMDb and social media, as well as commentary on Rotten Tomatoes, suggest that many long‑time admirers appreciate the celebratory tone and are comfortable with a film that centers on survival and legacy rather than scandal.
For this group, Being Eddie consolidates an existing narrative: Murphy as a mature, somewhat reclusive legend who has earned the right to look back without constant self‑flagellation.
The risk is more pronounced in critical circles. Culture writers note that when a documentary clearly tiptoes around certain topics, it can come across as carefully branded rather than fully candid, which may limit its status as a definitive portrait.
Some commentators compare it to more searching celebrity docs that confront misdeeds head‑on, arguing that those projects often do more to evolve a subject’s reputation because they show accountability alongside achievement.
In contrast, Being Eddie feels more like a sanctioned museum exhibit, which stabilizes rather than radically revises public opinion.
Even with these reservations, there has been no major backlash or fresh wave of outrage tied to the film. Media coverage emphasizes new anecdotes, emotional moments, and career context rather than renewed criticism, suggesting that the project has succeeded in avoiding reputational landmines.
In effect, the documentary trades the possibility of a braver, more divisive reappraisal for the safety of a flattering overview that keeps Murphy firmly in positive territory with most viewers.
Where His Reputation Lands After Being Eddie
To see the net effect, it helps to place Being Eddie alongside Murphy’s broader late‑career trajectory. The critical success of Dolemite Is My Name in 2019, combined with his buzzy SNL hosting return, already kicked off a reconsideration of his talent, with reviewers and retrospectives highlighting his range and timing.
Subsequent projects, including Coming 2 America, You People, Candy Cane Lane, and Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F, received mixed to decent reviews but kept him visible and commercially viable, reinforcing the idea that audiences still want to watch him.
Being Eddie fits neatly into that arc. Rather than serving as a shocking exposé, it functions as a reputational amplifier, backing up the recent narrative of a legend settling into a dignified second act.
By emphasizing his discipline, his preference for family life, and his pride in mentoring or inspiring others, the film paints a picture of a man who has moved from hyperactive superstardom to measured, selective stewardship of his own legacy.
Audience responses and critic roundups suggest that his reputation shifts upward in three main ways after the documentary. First, many viewers come away with renewed respect for his sheer longevity; 60+ years of life and 4 decades of visibility in a brutal industry look impressive when viewed through one narrative arc.
Second, the film underscores how much modern comedy owes to his early breakthroughs, reinforcing his role as a template for later crossover stars. Third, his on‑camera presence as a thoughtful, often low‑key storyteller softens lingering impressions of arrogance and makes him easier to root for as an elder statesman.
Crucially, there is little sign that the documentary has reignited old anger in a way that hurts his standing.
Coverage in outlets like the Los Angeles Times and The New York Times frames the film around key “takeaways” and personal reflections rather than unresolved controversy, suggesting that the public conversation is oriented toward interpretation rather than condemnation.
With more work reportedly ahead, including involvement in another Shrek installment and ongoing franchise opportunities, that refined image of a grounded, historically important veteran is likely to shape how studios market him and how future generations encounter his story.
So the short answer to what happened to Eddie Murphy’s reputation after Being Eddie is this: the documentary did not reinvent him, but it did reinforce a kinder, more nuanced view.
It smooths rough edges more than it interrogates them, yet for most viewers it deepens appreciation of his talent, survival, and cultural impact rather than dragging him back into old battles.
When President James Garfield was shot at the Baltimore & Potomac train station in July 1881, the event unfolded in front of dozens of onlookers, including cabinet members and ordinary citizens. Among them was a key witness whose testimony became vital during the trial of Charles Guiteau, the man who pulled the trigger.
This witness, along with several others, described how Guiteau approached Garfield from behind, fired two shots, and then tried to flee before being apprehended by Secretary of State James Blaine and other bystanders.
At Guiteau’s trial, the eyewitnesses provided a clear and consistent account of the shooting, helping prosecutors establish that Guiteau had acted deliberately and without provocation.
Their statements painted a picture of a man who had stalked Garfield for weeks, rejected appeals for government jobs, and then carried out the attack in a crowded public space.
The prosecution leaned heavily on these accounts to counter Guiteau’s claims of insanity and divine instruction, arguing that his actions were premeditated and rational.
The key witness’s testimony, in particular, was crucial because it helped confirm the sequence of events and Guiteau’s identity as the shooter. Their description of Guiteau’s behavior, calm before the shooting, defiant after being caught, added weight to the prosecution’s argument that he was fully aware of his actions.
With such clear eyewitness evidence, the jury needed little more than an hour to reach a guilty verdict, and Guiteau was sentenced to death by hanging in January 1882.
Trial Spectacle and Lingering Doubts: Was Justice Served?
Despite the speed and clarity of the verdict, Guiteau’s trial was far from a tidy conclusion. The courtroom became a stage for Guiteau’s erratic behavior, as he interrupted proceedings, delivered rambling speeches, and insisted that God had chosen him to carry out the assassination.
He argued that Garfield’s death was not his fault, blaming the doctors who treated the president for the fatal infection that followed the shooting.
This spectacle raised questions about whether the trial truly delivered justice. While the eyewitness testimony left little doubt about Guiteau’s guilt, his claims of insanity and his bizarre courtroom antics sparked debate about his mental state.
Death by Lightning (Credit: Netflix)
His legal team argued that he suffered from hereditary mental illness, but the court ultimately found him sane and fit to stand trial. The speed of the verdict and Guiteau’s execution, just days before the anniversary of the shooting, left some wondering if the process was rushed or influenced by public outrage.
Furthermore, the key witness and other eyewitnesses did not address the deeper issues that surrounded Garfield’s assassination. The trial focused on Guiteau’s actions, but it did not resolve questions about the political climate that fueled his grievances or the medical incompetence that may have contributed to Garfield’s death.
The public spectacle of the trial, combined with Guiteau’s theatrical behavior, meant that the assassination plot did not close neatly. Instead, it left a legacy of controversy and unanswered questions that continue to be debated by historians and legal experts.
What the Aftermath Tells Us: Justice, Legacy, and Unresolved Questions
The fate of the key witness and other eyewitnesses after the trial is not well documented, but their testimony played a pivotal role in shaping the outcome. The swift conviction and execution of Guiteau provided a sense of closure for many, but it did not erase the broader issues that the assassination highlighted.
The trial revealed the dangers of political fanaticism, the fragility of presidential security, and the impact of medical ignorance on public health.
In the years that followed, Guiteau’s brain and other remains were preserved for study , reflecting the enduring fascination with his case. The key witness’s testimony remains a cornerstone of the historical record, but it also serves as a reminder that justice is rarely straightforward.
The assassination of James Garfield and the trial of Charles Guiteau left a legacy of unresolved questions, from the adequacy of the legal process to the deeper societal forces that led to the tragedy.
Today, the story of the key witness in Death by Lightning continues to resonate, not just as a tale of justice served, but as a complex narrative of ambition, madness, and the enduring impact of eyewitness testimony.
The assassination plot may have closed with a verdict and an execution, but the questions it raised remain open for discussion.
