Axel Foley's back! Thirty years after John Landis' Beverly Hills Cops III, the franchise has been revived by Netflix, and the fourth movie is already on streaming. Across its various iterations, the series about a Detroit cop solving crimes in Beverly Hills has varied in its balance between action and comedy. However, Eddie Murphy's presence is a constant, conferring a semblance of consistency in the films. Indeed, his impact is so strong that one can easily classify him as the franchise's defining auteur. No need to be in the director's chair when one's presence in front of the camera transforms the pictures, shaping them around the gravitational pull of a true movie star.
To mark the occasion, let's look back at the flick that started it all. In 1984, Martin Brest's Beverly Hills Cop confirmed Eddie Murphy as an A-lister, and might have even come close to Oscar glory…
One struggles to conceive what Beverly Hills Cop would have looked like without Eddie Murphy, but he came to it late in the project's life. First idealized in 1977, the future blockbuster was to be a straight-up action movie before an early rewrite added notes of humor. Yet, the desire for serious-minded spectacle persisted, as one can attest by the names orbiting around Beverly Hills Cop. Cronenberg and Scorsese were both offered the movie, and Mickey Rourke was an early possibility for the leading man job, and even signed a holding contract. Eventually, it fell on Sylvester Stallone to star, though he extended his influence to the script.
Rewriting Beverly Hills Cop, the Rocky Oscar winner excised whatever comedy had been built into the picture and exacerbated its bloodshed. But these changes weren't especially appreciated by those who'd been with the project since the beginning, forming a creative rift at the center of the production. It's difficult to ascertain how Stallone was kicked off the project but so it happened, and Eddie Murphy was hired two days later. If you're interested in seeing Stallone's take on the material, he's said to have repurposed many ideas for 1986's Cobra. On the other hand, the up-and-comer comedian with SNL bona fides and the Trading Places success on the horizon used his influence to completely re-think what was to become of Beverly Hills Cop.
Whether through script changes or improvisational experiments, Murphy's presence transforms the film around his image, forcing it into becoming something close to an Old Hollywood star vehicle. It's not so much a case of the actor becoming the character, as the role reflecting the star persona, codifying it while weaponizing its particularities to the movie's benefit. If asked to name Murphy's best characterization, I wouldn't name his 1984 take on Detective Axel Foley. Nevertheless, it's probably the peak of the actor's appeal as a screen presence, a joke machine dripping with style and the ability to make any sort of nonsense into pure, undiluted entertainment.
That's not to say this is a mere exercise in surface-level magnetism with no inner workings worth a damn. On the contrary, there's great precision to Murphy's work, both when he dominates a scene and when he recedes into a kind of keen-eyed reactive figure. The movie's opening exemplifies this right away, as Foley is confused for an actual criminal during an unauthorized undercover operation and a chase promptly ensues. Through it all, Murphy weathers the temptation to ham it up, playing it cool as a cucumber, restrained even when his body gets flung out of a truck for some Buster Keaton-lite stunts.
Back at the station, though harshly berated by peers and superiors, his demeanor remains calm, and none of the jokes ever feel forced. Murphy handles the material with a light touch, conveying Foley's unflappable confidence as his defining characteristic, the center of the man's identity. The self-possession could sour into obnoxious arrogance, but Murphy knows how to hold back and let the audience come to him. Similarly, when Foley reconnects with a childhood best friend, recently out of prison and rehabilitated, Murphy almost plays it as straight drama. As viewers, we get very little time to know our hero's relationship with this Mikey, but the actors make sure we understand, at an intuitive level, how much they mean to each other.
So, when two men take the friends by surprise and murder Mikey, Foley's sorrow has weight to it, bearing down on the movie while blessing it with some mean emotional stakes. This is especially important since Murphy can't do a lot to demonstrate the loss that propels the plot without jeopardizing the picture's light tone. Apart from an outburst against the Inspector who wouldn't assign him the case, the performance rarely acknowledges Foley's distress with any directness. Most often, it's buried beneath the detective's swagger, his Bugs Bunny ability always to get his way and be the smartest person in the room. From Detroit to Beverly Hills, he's one of a kind.
In Murphy's hands, Foley barely breaks a sweat as he cons his way into places he shouldn't be. If we laugh, it's never at his expense, and, if anything, we recognize and reflect the spark of amusement the star summons with each new outrageous act. We're co-conspirators instead of circusgoers before a prancing clown. Foley's unflappability cum stoicism, his slickness earns the respect of folks on and off screen, showing again how Murphy's strategy captures his audiences by using restraint as a fisherman does a lure. And when he knows he's got us, there goes a flash of that mischievous smile. It's a winning grin you can't quite resist, imbuing even the wildest provocation and impersonation with charm.
Perhaps the most impressive part of the performance is how the actor maneuvers from one tone to another, taking us through the picture's constant oscillations between action thrills and comedy highlights. He sometimes blends the two without muddying our perception of Foley's intent, like when the detective takes a pair of tailing colleagues to a strip bar. The confraternization is high-spirited, but it subsides at the drop of a hat. Murphey's gaze becomes laser-focused, and all of a sudden, an action hero comes forth. Only his tactic to disarm the criminals goes through buffoonery, distracting them right up to the instant he can take control of the situation.
Like his character, Murphy moves through the movie with purposefulness and a sense of intelligence. One gets the idea he's always studying the situation, figuring out a winning approach before committing to it with the fierceness of a raging bull. Foley goes out of his way to solve the mystery of his friend's murder, while Murphy breathes life into him, reaching for cartoonish delights without allowing himself to become a caricature, neither flat nor predictable. To the end, Axel Foley is a compelling, persuasive character, constructed from a star's persona re-calibrated for the story's needs. He's pitch-perfect.
Truth be told, it's hard to imagine Murphy's cocksure comedic turn as an Oscar-nominated work, no matter how popular his movie was. Then again, Beverly Hills Cop as a Best Original Screenplay nominee is another weird notion, and that did happen. Moreover, the 80s were a time when mainstream success, including box office results, often correlated with Academy acclaim. In the very same year, Pat Morita was a Supporting Actor nominee for The Karate Kid, supporting the idea that Murphy could have been in the running. He also got a Golden Globe nomination but lost to Dudley Moore in Micki + Maude, a film that got no Oscar love whatsoever.
Moreover, if not him, who was the sixth-place contender? Howard E. Rollins Jr. starred in a Best Picture nominee, but he was never the stand-out in A Soldier's Story. Supporting Actor nominee Adolph Caesar got the precursor support and the press, while the leading man was ignored. Then there's Victor Banerjee in A Passage to India, snubbed by the Globes but honored by BAFTA and NBR. Still, he seems like too small a name for AMPAS who, in the end, nominated F. Murray Abraham (our winner!) and Tom Hulce in Amadeus, Jeff Bridges in Starman, Albert Finney in Under the Volcano, and Sam Waterston in The Killing Fields.
In summation, Eddie Murphy is a perfectly feasible candidate and would have made a worthy nominee. Unfortunately, he'd have to wait many years until he was finally rewarded with an Oscar nomination. It came with 2006's Dreamgirls, and for a while, it seemed like he was the Best Supporting Actor frontrunner. As we well know, Alan Arkin took that prize, and since then, Murphy hasn't received any additional nominations. Some pundits thought he might have had a chance to crack the Best Actor race with Dolemite Is My Name, but luck wasn't on his side. Do you think he'll ever make an Oscar comeback?
Beverly Hills Cop is streaming on Netflix, Fubo, Paramount Plus, and Showtime. You can also rent and purchase it on Apple TV, Amazon, Fandango at Home, Spectrum On Demand, and the Microsoft Store.