Reading up on the history of Beverly Hills Cop, it never should have worked. By the time the movie went into production, there were about 8 billion different versions of the script. The final product was basically scotch-taped together from those different versions and whatever else didn’t work was improvised by the cast.
Way back when, the story looked like a star vehicle for Al Pacino or James Caan in what would have been a much more serious take on the story. Then Mickey Rourke was attached. Then Rourke walked. Sylvestor Stallone came on board for an even bloodier version that never came to fruition because it would have been too expensive (reportedly Stallone took many of that version’s ideas and made Cobra. I’m assuming it was most of the really bad ideas). So what did the studio do with what was once a serious tale of revenge? They made it a comedy.
The hiring of Eddie Murphy of course changed everything. It was a statement about the film. Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be that any longer. Murphy was scorching hot, coming off a couple of big hits in 48 Hours and Trading Places. I’m going to guess they dumbed down much of the script. It’s pretty basic stuff. No real surprises. Looking at it from a distance, it’s essentially a fish-out-of-water tale that is pretty much by the book (90210 style). But it never really feels that way. Hiring Murphy paid off. Literally.
Beverly Hills Cop raked in $234 million dollars domestically… in 1984! That’s nearly half billion with inflation and good enough for 62nd on the all-time list (39th if you adjust for inflation). It was the highest grossing R-rated feature for nearly twenty years, and despite all the script confusion, it managed to grab an Oscar nomination for screenplay.
I think much of what the Academy and audiences responded to (other than Murphy’s improvisational style, obviously) was the approach director Martin Brest took with the material. Brest is a kind of a sneaky auteur. You wouldn’t think it looking at his resume, but he has a style that distinguishes him. He has a tendency to let scenes breathe, giving his actors time. He likes silences. Those weird, uncomfortable moments where life seeps through, where we think, consider, ponder, meditate, calculate and organize — gathering our thoughts — and absorbing the moment. A statement. An act. Brest specializes in those moments. There’s a little bit of that in Beverly Hills Cop. A little more in Midnight Run. Even more in Scent of a Woman. By the time he made Meet Joe Black, he took this practice to more dangerous lengths, for better or worse. While not as bad as its reputation, Gigli is a mess, but it isn’t because of Brest’s directing style (actually, there’s some pretty good acting and some pretty good dialogue somewhere mixed in that Degobah of a swamp). Did Gigli end his career? Hard to tell. He hasn’t made a movie since 2003.
Still, Axel Foley’s first adventure remains one of the director’s most satisfying efforts. It helps to have Murphy in peak form, playing the “foul-mouthed jerk from out of town”. Watching it again its amazing how on fire Murphy is in this thing. His timing is impeccable. He had an energy and charm unmatched by anyone in the game at the time. He galvanized the comedic and action-comedy world with his work on SNL and then the big screen. Oh, this is how good it can be…
Murphy gets to balance the funny with the drama. For this type of comedy, Cop has a healthy dose of weight. When Axel Foley meets up with his old pal Michael Tandino, they are yucking it up, kidding about stealing cars. Tandino took the fall in a crime Axel took part in when they were younger. And when Axel asks him why he never ratted him out, Tandino asks – suddenly serious and almost incredulous – “You really don’t know? You don’t know? Cuz I love you man.” There’s a pause, a moment before the two friends are laughing again. And while they may be laughing, the scene is no longer being played for laughs. That moment is important for the characters and more so for the story. About 45 movie seconds later, Michael Tandino is going to get shot in the head and it’s going to have an effect on the audience.
Part of the fun on Beverly Hills Cop is that while Foley is a good detective, he’s still a little green. He has good instincts, but not the tact one would need to prevent getting thrown out of a window. He doesn’t have the years of experience guys like John Ashton’s Taggart, yet you get the feeling a few years in Detroit adds a few more whiskers than a decade in Beverly Hills.
John Ashton and Judge Reinhold supply the bulk of the supporting weight. Ashton and Reinhold essentially play the C-3PO and R2-D2 roles and they’re a likable enough duo. Reinhold’s Billy is a wholesome loaf of white bread and it’s fun to see his character come out of his shell little by little. Ashton is the red-ass and he’s good at it (he’s even funnier in Midnight Run). Ronny Cox I will always remember as Lt. Bogomil on the sole strength that it’s one of my favorite movie names ever.
Yet this movie is loaded with a great supporting cast. You have two scene stealers in the form of (real life Detroit Police Detective) Gilbert R. Hill as Inspector Todd and, naturally, Bronson Pinchot as Serge. How do you steal a scene from Eddie Murphy? Ask these guys.
You can’t talk about this movie and not talk about the Grammy-winning soundtrack. Catchy as all hell, you can’t help but shake your booty a little. Heat is On, Neutron Dance, Stir it Up, the Axel F. theme… this sucker got a lot of air time in my house growing up.
Eddie Murphy’s career is a depressing subject for me. We are talking about someone as prolific and important a comedian to break out to a wide audience as any. Murphy was not a flash-in-the-pan star. He was (is) a mega star whose act never got old for audiences. The only person who I think got tired of Eddie Murphy was Eddie Murphy. Somewhere along the line, that dude died. Things started to change a little when he made Harlem Nights and Boomerang. While funny, the vulgar humor didn’t have the same sense of irony, that vivacious spirit and in fact began to take on a polluted aroma. It was getting murky. Maybe this was waning on Murphy. There was the hint that he was tiring. Like a running back hitting thirty. No, he was like a boxer who probably punched himself out of the fight. His jab seemed shorter, like he lost a half an inch of reach. His timing – normally perfect – was screwy so he wasn’t really sure when to launch the uppercut. His hook didn’t have quite the amount of anvil-power it used to. He still moved his feet, the man can still dance around the ring. But they dragged a little more across the canvas. You can hear it if you listen closely. He no longer moved like a butterfly. He no longer stung like a bee. He was older. Wiser maybe. But slower. Lazier? He used the ropes more than usual. Just not the same guy.
Mediocrity or just plain awfulness ensued. There have been a few bright spots. I thought he was just fine in Dreamgirls but I would not have keeled over if he didn’t get nominated. I was more upset he was largely ignored for his work in The Nutty Professor. The Academy has always been rather snobby when it comes to comedy, but Murphy deserved a lot more consideration than he got. Bowfinger was at least an inspired effort. Still, by the time he made Pluto Nash it was an Anakin Skywalker magnitude-fall from grace. He didn’t just sell out, it felt like he sold out to such a degree that he was rubbing his fans’ faces in it.
Old fans of Murphy have been wondering when the actor will return to his roots and be that dangerous comedian they grew up on and loved. But the Eddie who made Coming to America, 48 Hours and Trading Places… he’s gone. He ain’t ever coming back. Even the proposed Beverly Hills Cop 4 can’t convince me. Hell, they hired Brett Ratner to direct it. What do you want from me?
Every fighter has their window of opportunity. Age catches up with them. Age caught up with Murphy early, that’s all. He can still entertain, of course. But not in the ring. He’s moved on to the putting greens and that’s entirely his prerogative. Suck it up. Sure was fun while it lasted.
And now, I leave you with Harold Faltermeyer’s Axel F… Enjoy!
