Eddie Murphy’s ‘Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F’ chases cheap nostalgia over creativity

Eddie Murphy returning to the role that turned him into an international phenomenon is a hard thing to resist, especially when all you have to do is press play on a remote. While Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F isn’t terrible, and it does have a few funny zings plus one decent chase scene, there’s not a molecule of originality on display. One can’t help but call it a missed opportunity.

There’s a moment toward the end of the new Netflix picture in which Rosewood (Judge Reinhold) and Taggart (John Ashton) are pinned down by gunfire at a California mansion. As the bullets are flying, Rosewood says something zany that annoys the no-nonsense Taggart — exactly like what happened in the 1984 original Beverly Hills Cop. Just in case anyone didn’t notice, Ashton mugs for the camera and says, “Some things never change!” This is a summation of the entire movie: not just a refusal to try anything new, but a commitment to the remember-this-ification of branded entertainment. Ashton’s cheap gag is a declaration of defeat on behalf of this film’s writers (three of them), producers (eight of them), and director Mark Malloy, making his first feature after a career in advertising. While it’s the most egregious in the film, it is, sadly, not the only one in this thin legacy sequel.

In Axel F, you’ll hear the same pop hits during chase scenes (“Neutron Dance” by the Pointer Sisters, “Shakedown” by Bob Seger), watch Murphy’s Axel Foley try on wacky voices to make his way past a series of velvet ropes, and hear Bronson Pinchot’s Serge squeal, “Nooo!” when Murphy exclaims “get the f— out of here!” There’s also the issue of the plot — corruption in high places leading to Rambo-like action set pieces — which was silly back then but beyond preposterous now that everyone is 40 years older. 

The story, such as it is, is simple. Foley is still on the force in Detroit, and his old buddy Friedman (Paul Reiser) is his boss. (Luckily, the movie makes a few “shouldn’t we all be retired?” gags to cover its behind.) After an opening set piece where a jewelry heist bust causes major damage to Detroit’s already crippled infrastructure, Foley gets a call from Rosewood, his old Beverly Hills pal (now a private investigator), to let him know his estranged daughter Jane (Taylour Paige), a defense attorney, is in over her head with a pro bono case. She’s representing an accused cop killer and drug runner, but she can tell he’s innocent and, indeed, when villains assault her in her car (dangling her over the edge of a parking facility), and then Rosewood disappears, Foley knows that he must zoom off to L.A. to save everyone.

Okay, no one ever liked a Beverly Hills Cop movie for its plot, but in the past, they’ve taken a backseat to some sparkling comedy (Martin Brest’s original) or genuinely dazzling action (Tony Scott’s Beverly Hills Cop II.) In this, the fourth film, there’s not much of either, and it’s upsetting because there are few performers with more natural charisma than Eddie Murphy. Just look back to Netflix’s spectacular Dolemite Is My Name, the 2019 Rudy Ray Moore biopic that was the last worthy vehicle of this man’s abundant talents. 

The Axel Foley character could and should be an opportunity for him to do what he does best: barge into a room as the B.S.-resistant wiseguy — half Richard Pryor, half Bugs Bunny — and make fools of everyone else while also being goofy himself. Murphy at his best (see also 48 Hrs., Trading Places, his Delirious special) can be foulmouthed, but the dorky “heh heh heh” chuckle is an on-ramp for moments of self-effacing comedy that takes the edge off. (There’s more Bob Hope to the Murphy persona than you might think.) 

But not even Eddie Murphy can do all the lifting himself. He needs some material to work with. On several occasions in Axel F, there are scenes where it feels like they got the lights, camera, and performers to set, then realized, “Oh, nobody bothered to come up with anything to say.” Murphy and the others are left in the breeze, flop-sweating their way to a punchline that barely exists. There’s a tired bit about a white guy worrying if he sounds racist, there’s a lifeless riff about how “Foley” is a strong name but “Saunders” (Jane’s last name) is not (God, this one goes on forever), plus some business about pretending to know the plot to Jupiter Ascending. It’s painful.

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There are a few bright spots. Nasim Pedrad shakes the cobwebs off the movie in a very funny sequence as a daffy real estate agent, giving everyone a lot to play against. There is also a helicopter chase that is not only shot well (a low-flying chopper causing mayhem at the Tom Ford boutique!) but gets some high-volume patter between Murphy and his new buddy Detective Abbott (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) that lands well. Also, Kevin Bacon, who plays the villain (and bigshot on the police force) is clearly having a great time going full throttle on the sleaze. 

The character itself is a blank slate, but director Molloy had a good partner in Bacon to run with it. Sadly, the usually terrific Luis Guzmán is nails-on-chalkboard annoying here as a madcap criminal. And no offense to Reinhold, whom I’ve loved in the past, but Axel F does not make the greatest case for a career renaissance. Ashton, kvetching about his thyroid medication, fares somewhat better. 

Will we see another Beverly Hills Cop movie, especially now that Paige and Gordon-Levitt are part of the crew? It’s hard to know how Netflix makes its predictions, but if enough Gen X-ers are home this July 4 weekend and hit play, it might be enough to tip the scales. Let’s hope next time, they hire someone to write some funny scenes. Grade: C