Lights Out Movie Reviews
Copyright (c) 1994, Bruce Diamond
All rights reserved


        Ŀ
          BEVERLY HILLS COP 3:  John Landis, director.  Steven E.  
          de Souza, screenplay.  Starring Eddie Murphy, Judge      
          Reinhold, Hector Elizondo, Theresa Randle, Bronson       
          Pinchot, Timothy Carhart, John Saxon, and Alan Young.    
          Paramount.  Rated R.                                     
        

          The Axel's broken, may as well buy a new vehicle.  I'm still
     hard-pressed to understand why a third BEVERLY HILLS COP has been
     foisted off on the public, other than to prop up Eddie Murphy's
     flagging popularity and to possibly pump some money into Para-
     mount's coffers.  (Some would say there's no other reason to make
     a movie than to make money, but that's pretty cynical thinking.)
     Adding director John Landis to the franchise is a good move,
     since he directed Murphy in two of his better efforts (TRADING
     PLACES, 1983, and COMING TO AMERICA, 1988), but it's a Landis
     truism that he's only as good as his material.  Unfortunately,
     BEVERLY HILLS COP 3 is rather generic and predictable material to
     be working with.

          It always takes a fellow cop being shot to send Detroit cop
     Axel Foley (Eddie Murphy) scurrying off to California, and this
     time it's no different:  his captain dies in his arms, and Axel's
     on the trail of a gang of criminals who have shot up a chop shop
     that Foley had staked out.  They leave evidence that points to
     WonderWorld, an amusement park in L.A. loosely patterned after
     Disneyland.  Foley's on his way, with some government entity in
     tow (they never identify themselves, but references are made to
     the FBI, the CIA, and the Secret Service along the way -- pay
     attention, that's a clue).  Foley traces the criminals to the
     head of security for WonderWorld, but nobody believes him.
     That's when he shifts into high gear, Murphy-style.

          L.A. cop Billy Rosewood (Judge Reinhold) is back to help
     Foley -- well, actually, to get him out of trouble, along with a
     new partner, of sorts, played by Hector Elizondo.  They stumble
     and fumble their way through an easily-anticipated script by
     Steven E. de Souza, one of the credited screenwriters of the
     messy FLINTSTONES script.  Murphy sleepwalks through most of the
     movie, running the Axel Foley character on autopilot and leaving
     Landis and the rest of the cast to pick up the energy level.
     Landis gamely tries to do so (an action sequence involving Foley
     and two scared kids in a malfunctioning amusement ride is tops),
     but it's hard to squeeze excitement out of a movie when you know
     whodunnit, wheretheydunnit, and whosinonnit as soon as Foley
     reaches the park.  The fact that Foley hasn't been fired from the
     Detroit police for his AWOL, out-of-jurisdiction shenanigans just
     proves the filmmakers only have contempt for any semblance of
     coherent reality.

          This contempt is amply demonstrated in the opening scene,
     where Murphy is briefing a squad of cops just before they bust the
     chop shop.  Murphy isn't even acting in this scene; he's just
     this rich dude sayin' a buncha lines he don't b'lieve in, and
     having a hard time makin' us b'lieve in 'em, too.  The other
     actors in the scene are window dressing.  In a line that's
     supposed to be ironic, Foley tells his captain, "I don't need no
     SWAT team coming in here and shooting up my evidence."  Instead
     of comic irony, the line comes out sounding like sloppy script-
     ing, as thought the filmmakers forgot that Foley doesn't care one
     whit about shooting up evidence, as long as he's the one holding
     the gun.  And we sit and chuckle, munching our popcorn, as Foley
     starts another bloodbath in L.A.

          Even guest shots from Bronson Pinchot and Alan Young (Wilbur
     from TV's MR. ED), and cameos featuring the likes of George
     Lucas, Ray Harryhausen, Martha Coolidge, and John Singleton can't
     convince me that "It's On!".  This Foley artist needs to be
     retired from the movie biz until he comes up with fresh material.

     RATING:  0

