Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Taylour Paige also star in the return of the wise-ass Detroit detective, 40 years after the original and 30 years after the last franchise installment.
There are a few valid reasons to make a sequel four decades down the track from an action-comedy blockbuster that left an indelible pop-cultural imprint: 1. A smart script with a completely fresh take on a formulaic genre. 2. Writing that digs into the ways an iconic character known for his rule-breaking irreverence adjusts to the social shifts of a different century. 3. New technology that allows for more explosive thrills. 4. The nostalgia of audiences for whom the original holds enduringly fond memories. 5. Lil Nas X agrees to write and perform a song, spinning rap verses around synthmeister Harold Faltermeyer’s catchy theme tune.
Sauntering along 30 years after the third installment opened to scalding reviews and underwhelming grosses, Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F justifies its existence only with points 4 and 5. Which will likely be enough to satisfy diehard fans. Directed with journeyman efficiency by first-timer Mark Molloy and written by a committee that follows the template to the letter, this Netflix feature remains entirely stuck in its ‘80s conception.
That much is evident even from the poster, which not only returns to the basic elements of the key art for Beverly Hills Cop (dude, gun, car), along with the embellishments for the 1987 sequel (palm trees against a vibrant Hollywood sunset), but also looks like it was designed back then, down to the last airbrushed detail. No trace of the more stylized graphics in the poster for Beverly Hills Cop III, which is in line with this chapter’s general policy of forgetting that franchise death rattle ever happened, aside from a single sly reference.
The first Beverly Hills Cop broke new ground. Having made the jump from standup and Saturday Night Live, Murphy was hot off 48 Hrs. and Trading Places but had yet to carry a film as a solo lead. Martin Brest’s buoyant direction and a script by Daniel Petrie Jr. that knew exactly how to showcase the motor-mouth comic’s gifts — making ample space for his improvisational skills — cemented Murphy’s ascent to superstardom.
With a global haul of $316 million, it disproved the
widespread belief that major releases led by Black actors had no muscle at the international box office. The film established the mold for buddy cop action-comedies and paved the way for another decade-defining franchise anchored by a loose-cannon detective prone to running right into danger and leaving wreckage in his wake, Lethal Weapon.
But legacy can only take you so far. The closest thing to innovation that screenwriters Will Beall, Tom Gormican and Kevin Etten have come up with is the introduction of a sentimental strain of family friction, with estrangement predictably leading to accountability and warm reconciliation. The rest is a strictly routine pileup of car crashes, shoot-outs and wisecracks.
Even in this later stage of his career, Murphy has demonstrated his screen-acting chops and charisma when he’s given a sturdy script, both in comedy (Dolemite Is My Name) and drama (Dreamgirls). He’s still naturally funny, but without strong writing, he often leans into lazy shtick, which only seems like a three-dimensional performance because Bronson Pinchot’s once-hilarious shtick as swishy Euro queen Serge is so painful.
The movie opens with Murphy’s Axel Foley back in his native Detroit, cruising through a town he knows like the back of his hand to Glenn Frey’s “The Heat Is On.” That track — along with The Pointer Sisters’ “Neutron Dance” and Faltermeyer’s theme — is reprised from the original, while other hits from that decade are added, including Bob Seger’s “Shakedown” (heard in Beverly Hills Cop II) and Billy Idol’s “Hot in the City,” the latter in a mashup with a Coi Leray rap. No one can accuse this film of not being true to the spirit of its progenitor, which again will be a big plus for nostalgists.
Axel’s antics have gotten him kicked off a case tracking a crime ring of murderous thieves, so he manipulates gullible junior colleague Mike Woody (Kyle S. More) into taking the lead when a robbery is going down at an ice hockey game. But not before a few gibes about interracial dynamics. Mike, who is white, confesses his surprise that a Black man is into ice hockey and Axel makes him squirm over his stereotyping assumption. Axel mimics his stammering apology, but he’s quick to clarify that Mike doing the reverse would be “wildly offensive.”
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