We needed a little time today to digest our feelings after the miserable box-office showing of Meet Dave, whose free-fall over the weekend resulted in the ugliest opening of Eddie Murphy's career. Not having seen it, we have to assume that $5.1 million gross aside, the film is at least superior to Norbit (not to mention Vampire in Brooklyn, Pluto Nash and a sprinkling of other Murphy misfires over the years). We'd even venture to say it'll be better than Beverly Hills Cop IV, the PG-rated abomination to which Murphy and Brett Ratner are attached for Paramount. Certainly it's better than The Love Guru, whose own beleaguered comic icon Mike Myers nevertheless had flowers and a thank-you note on Murphy's porch by sometime Sunday afternoon.

Normally, we'd be content to allow you to take the crash course in crowd-pleasing moviemaking offered by CNN.com's always edifying Story Highlights box, then send you on your way to get started on an incredibly lucrative career producing the kind of sure-fire hits that result from the combination of big-name stars, latex fat-suits, and middle-aged men falling off of motorcycles. But we thought that producer/director Brian Robbins' stirring defense of Norbit earner Eddie Murphy's talents bears a moment of your time, if for no other reason than it provides something of a bonus lesson in how to defend your talent against snobbish accusations that farting through a pair of grotesquely dimpled rubber buttocks isn't a valid demonstration of craft:

Rouse yourself from your Monday morning nap long enough to take a quick tour of the weekend's box office numbers:

Presumably a little frightened by yesterday's LAT story wondering whether the inopportunely timed release of Norbit might make Oscar voters a little skittish about handing over their coveted acting prize to a man who's currently celebrating his craft from underneath a hundred pounds of cellulite-scarred latex, the DreamWorks publicity teams rushed this For Your Consideration ad in the trades today, one which immediately reminds the soul-searching Academy member that beneath those layers of stunt-blubber is a nuanced performer capable of an awards-worthy man-cry.

Eddie Murphy, according to today's LAT and various people not completely charmed by the actor's recent emergence from seclusion to humbly accept a handful of trinkets from various press organizations and professional guilds, might have a problem. While he's the frontrunner™ for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his eye-opening, "Hey, he can act!" turn in Dreamgirls, his peers in the Academy might pause as the quivering tips of their fountain pens approach his name on their ballots, have their minds flooded with unpleasant thoughts about the advisability of bestowing the single greatest honor in the history of human endeavor upon a man whose current project demands a Martin Lawrence-level of craft, and, after recovering from a prolonged vomiting fit brought on by thoughts of being asphyxiated by the disturbingly realistic, dimple-riddled ladyfolds of Murphy's Norbit costume, cast their votes for Djimon Hounsou.