If “Beverly Hills Cop” was a Big Mac with extra sauce and “Beverly Hills Cop II” was a reheated Quarter Pounder smothered in synth-pop and cocaine dust, then “Beverly Hills Cop III” is the Dollar Menu after midnight—lukewarm, rubbery, and handed to you by someone who just clocked out of caring. Directed by John Landis, a man who once commanded the gods of comedy, this third installment isn’t just bad—it’s aggressively uninterested in being good. This is what it looks like when a franchise flatlines and nobody wants to call time of death.
The tagline should’ve been: No rules. No laughs. No pulse.
🎡 Axel Foley Goes to Wally World
The plot, if you can call it that, plays like a rejected “Family Matters” script dipped in mold. Axel Foley (Eddie Murphy, checked out and possibly asleep) travels to a fictional theme park called Wonder World to investigate the murder of his boss back in Detroit. What he finds isn’t fun, whimsical, or remotely coherent—just a money counterfeiting ring operating out of a backlot attraction so uninspired it could’ve been designed by tired Disney interns on a Xanax diet.
In the first film, Axel infiltrated Beverly Hills with street-smart charm and chaotic finesse. Here, he’s creeping around a Chuck E. Cheese knockoff like a mall security guard with a grudge. It’s not so much “cop comedy” as it is “slow descent into pastel madness.” He wears a Wonder World staff uniform. He pretends to be a ride technician. He climbs animatronic dinosaurs. There’s even a goddamn song about Wonder World.
This is not the buddy-cop genre. This is corporate espionage staged at a place where a fake turtle mascot waves at screaming children.
🧃 Eddie Murphy: Wake Me When It’s Over
Let’s talk about Eddie Murphy, who looks like he just got off a red-eye flight from a better movie. This is not the smirking dynamo of the ‘80s. This is not the man who stole 48 Hrs., Trading Places, and Coming to America. This is an actor going through contractual motions while contemplating his tax bracket.
Murphy’s jokes fall flatter than expired Diet Coke. There’s a moment where he tries to improvise in a security office—it’s so awkwardly lifeless, you half expect the boom mic to slowly lower itself in a suicidal arc. His chemistry with other characters is nonexistent. His quips have all the sting of a deflated whoopee cushion.
You want the laugh. He wants the paycheck. Everyone loses.
🔫 John Landis, Where Art Thou?
Let’s be clear—John Landis used to own the comedy landscape. This is the guy who gave us Animal House, The Blues Brothers, and An American Werewolf in London. But by 1994, his magic had curdled like old milk left in a Malibu sunroom. His direction here feels like he shot the movie from a golf cart while skimming through the script during bathroom breaks.
The pacing is leaden. The action sequences have the kinetic energy of a retirement home shuffleboard match. And the tone? Completely neutered. It’s neither gritty enough for a cop thriller nor outrageous enough for a satire. It’s PG-13, yes, but also PB&J for the brain—sticky, bland, and better left to kids who’ve never seen actual cinema.
Landis’ attempt to merge satire with slapstick only succeeds in making Wonder World the saddest fake amusement park this side of Westworld—except here, the robots are Eddie Murphy and George Lucas cameos.
🧨 Supporting Cast or Circus Sideshow?
The supporting cast is a grab-bag of “why are you here?” moments.
Judge Reinhold is back as Billy Rosewood, and while he tries to bring some continuity, he’s given all the dramatic weight of a popcorn kernel. Hector Elizondo plays the new sidekick, but you’ll be forgiven if you forget his name by the next scene. Timothy Carhart is our villain—a money-forging theme park exec so bland he makes Vanilla Wafers seem edgy.
And yes, George Lucas makes a cameo. He has more lines than Bronson Pinchot, who returns briefly as Serge the art-dealer-turned-weapons-expert in one of the few scenes that isn’t totally unwatchable. It’s sad when the guy doing an Eastern European caricature is the only person who seems to be having fun.
🎢 The Action: Softcore Mayhem for the Medicare Crowd
In a series known for creative stunts and smart shootouts, Beverly Hills Cop III trades that in for car chases so slow, even the cameraman might have dozed off. There’s a climactic gun battle on a ride called “Alien Attack” that’s so poorly choreographed, you half-expect the villain to fall into a popcorn machine instead of a fiery explosion.
It’s all so sterile. So safe. So designed to offend absolutely no one while entertaining absolutely no one.
The original Beverly Hills Cop had grit, foul-mouthed charm, and real stakes. This one has a tunnel of love ride, animatronic hippos, and a machine that prints counterfeit bills behind a puppet show.
🎠 Wonder World: The Real Villain
Wonder World itself is a character in this film—and an irritating one at that. Everything about this park screams “bargain bin EPCOT.” There are mascots with names like Uncle Dave (played by Alan Young, the voice of Scrooge McDuck, in a turn so syrupy you’ll need insulin). There are musical numbers. Parades. Tourists.
But what it doesn’t have is atmosphere, suspense, or even a hint of danger. You could set the third act in a Subway sandwich shop and it would carry more menace.
💀 Final Thoughts: A Franchise in a Coma
Beverly Hills Cop III is the film equivalent of a once-great band releasing a greatest hits album with all the tracks re-recorded by guys who weren’t in the band. There’s no edge. No energy. Just nostalgia, diluted and wrapped in a lifeless corporate bow.
It should’ve been axed in development. Instead, it got released into theaters, where audiences sat stunned, wondering how Axel Foley—the rebel cop with the laugh that could murder walls—had become a silent mascot for mediocrity.
🎯 Final Rating: ★☆☆☆☆ (1 out of 5 animatronic tears)
A crime against comedy, action, and possibly theme parks. Eddie deserved better. We all did.