On the eve of his return to "SNL," what does Eddie Murphy want?

When Eddie Murphy takes the Studio 8H stage as host of the 881^st episode of “Saturday Night Live” on Dec. 21, viewers’ expectations will be unreasonable. Fans who grew up quoting classic bits from his iconic appearances as Buckwheat, Gumby, Mr. Robertson and James Brown will want him to play the hits but with a new, reinvigorated groove. They’ll want Elvis Presley’s 1968 “Comeback Special” – which, to place this in perspective, aired 12 years after the release of Presley’s first chart-topping single. Twelve years ago, Murphy was starring in “Norbit."

The occasion for Murphy’s first visit to "SNL" since 1984 is his terrific performance as Rudy Ray Moore in Craig Brewer’s “Dolemite Is My Name." Though the film has been available on Netflix for two months, we’re in the midst of awards season, and it’s widely thought that a bit of throwback brilliance on the show that launched him to superstardom might remind Oscar voters why they fell in love with this singular talent several decades ago. Given that Murphy failed to score a Best Actor nomination from the Screen Actors Guild, this heavily hyped, potential return to glory feels propitious indeed.

This appearance, this awards season and most of Murphy’s career have been predicated on what his fans want. As with most artists who achieve overnight success, the majority of their admirers will always pine for what came first. A bloated-and-sweaty Elvis could transport audiences back to 1956 with just a few bars of “Love Me Tender”; a broadly mugging Paul McCartney could hurtle Beatlemaniacs back to high school with an obligatory run-through of “Yesterday”; the bearded-and-balding Backstreet Boys can set a state fair stage ablaze with their umpteenth rendition of "I Want It That Way." 

But what does Murphy want? 

When he walks out under the 8H lights on Saturday night, what will he be seeking? Live adulation? He seemed to feed off it in his monumental 1980s standup gigs, where packed auditoriums, and eventually arenas, screamed “Eddie! Eddie!” as he traversed the stage in gaudy leather jumpsuits. (Few solo performers could fill an entire stage as effortlessly as Murphy; his only equals in this regard were Elvis, Michael Jackson and Prince.) If that’s what he wanted, he could’ve returned to the standup stage anytime he desired, like his contemporary Jerry Seinfeld did. But despite talks of a $70 million deal with Netflix to grasp the microphone for the first time since 1988’s “Raw," no one has seen the legendary comic trying out new material at the usual haunts (e.g. The Comedy Store or The Laugh Factory).

Does he have new characters he’d like to workshop? That might make more sense. Though he never turned any of his "SNL" bits into motion pictures (in fact, he loathed Buckwheat so much he demanded an entire episode be structured around his assassination), perhaps he can turn on younger audiences absent a nostalgic attraction to the old stuff to a new character a la Tom Hanks and David S. Pumpkins. Maybe whatever the hell he was up to with "Norbit" just needed a little more time in the oven, and now it’s been baked to perfection. Personally, I’d like to see him take a preemptive shot at Robert Downey Jr.’s forthcoming Dr. Dolittle, but Murphy seems to have aged out of his mean-spiritedness.

The most entertaining, and perhaps career-defining, option might involve Murphy riffing on his own superstardom – i.e. the absurdity of a teenager from Roosevelt, New York, tearing up comedy clubs years before he could legally buy a drink, saving the once hippest show on television from certain cancellation as a featured player at the age of 19, becoming the biggest box-office draw in the United States at the age of 23 and then… and then?

This is the mystery of Eddie Murphy. Though he’s made a number of good movies over the last 30 years ("Boomerang," "The Nutty Professor," “Bowfinger," “Dreamgirls” and now “Dolemite Is My Name”), that white-hot comedic genius who seared himself in the collective pop cultural consciousness in “48 Hrs.," “Trading Places” “Beverly Hills Cop” and “Coming to America” had cooled off by the end of the decade. And while other similarly gifted entertainers wound up finding additional outlets for their talents — e.g. Jerry Lewis and directing, Mel Brooks and producing, Gabe Kaplan and poker — Murphy gradually dulled the edges of his comedy and segued into family movies. OK, there was the singing career, but he peaked with his first single, 1985’s “Party All the Time” (which is most notable for the music video wherein you spend most your time looking for the imprint of “Unity” on Charlie Murphy’s forehead). 

Most stars of Murphy’s stature get awards-hungry at a certain point, but he’s been skittish about taking on prestige roles. He had to be wooed by his “Shrek” producer Jeffrey Katzenberg to take the role of James “Thunder” Early in Bill Condon’s “Dreamgirls” and then bolted the Oscar ceremony after he lost Best Supporting Actor to Alan Arkin. A decade later, critics and awards groups shrugged off his dramatic performance in Bruce Beresford’s "Mr. Church." Meanwhile, a much-ballyhooed run at portraying his comedy idol, Richard Pryor, in a Condon-directed biopic fizzled.

Through it all, Murphy has seemed oddly content — like a man who has absolutely nothing to prove and likes it that way. Neal Brennan once told Drew McWeeny about an evening spent in the company of Murphy and Dave Chappelle that nearly produced a “Kentucky Fried Movie”-type sketch film. They parted ways that night with the intention of following through, but nothing ever came of it. Obviously, that movie gets an immediate greenlight from the first studio pitched to by Murphy, Chappelle and Brennan. But Murphy would have to want to do it, and it’s simply unclear what he wants.

While the Netflix standup deal apparently remains unconsummated, we do know this: Murphy is lights-out brilliant as Rudy Ray Moore in the wonderful "Dolemite Is My Name," he sounds pleased with the results of “Coming 2 America” and “Beverly Hills Cop 4” is a go. It’s not a question of a comeback. He’s been here for years. But does he want to break free of what’s worked since he brought down the house as seventh-year high-school junior basketball player Raheem Abdul Muhammed on the 12/6/80 Weekend Update, or will he play the hits? 

As a fan of Eddie Murphy, there’s no wrong answer here. One last visit with Mr. Robertson will be like getting to spend another few minutes with Lily Tomlin’s Ernestine — a few laughs and the melancholic tug of nostalgia.

Maybe it’s not about what Eddie Murphy wants so much as what we want from Eddie Murphy. And maybe he doesn’t owe us s***.