The Only Beverly Hills Cop Actors That Appear In Every Movie Of The Franchise

Once upon a time, Hollywood studios made original movies. Lots of them. Granted, "original" is a relative term when we're talking about this industry. Studios have always hedged their bets by relying on popular genres or recycling tried-and-true formulas. When a film went into production, moguls and executives were hoping for a healthy return on their investment, while stars generally tried their damnedest not to alienate their fans while avoiding the perils of typecasting. Once the film wrapped, it was on to the next one — and the next one was rarely a sequel.

This business model changed drastically in the 1970s when films like "The Godfather," "The Exorcist" and "Love Story" became wildly profitable cultural phenomena. When the studios realized people were lining up to see these movies again and again like they were amusement park rides, they reasoned that the safest course of action would be to continue the stories that had enraptured these audiences — even if there wasn't an obvious or elegant way to do so.

"Beverly Hills Cop," with its fish-out-of-water hook, was not an obvious candidate for a sequel, but when it unexpectedly became the highest-grossing film of 1984 in the U.S., they had no choice but to press forward with a follow-up. Initially, the studio believed jetting newly minted superstar Eddie Murphy off to another city like London was the way to go, but they ultimately opted for more of the same in Los Angeles. They chose wisely.

Clearly, re-signing Murphy was key, but a crucial component of the first film's success was its colorful supporting cast. Audiences loved watching streetwise Detroit detective Axel Foley antagonize (and ultimately befriend) the straitlaced LAPD duo of John Taggart and Billy Rosewood. This unlikely camaraderie is the heart of the franchise, and when the filmmakers strayed from that formula moviegoers kept their distance. That only two actors have appeared in all four "Beverly Hills Cop" movies is a big reason why the series got mothballed for 30 years.

"Beverly Hills Cop" wasn't supposed to be an Eddie Murphy film in the first place. It was initially developed as a straight-ahead action vehicle for Sylvester Stallone, but when the star's vision for the movie deviated from the filmmakers' take on the material, Murphy, who'd become an overnight sensation thanks to "48 Hrs.," "Trading Places" and his brilliant run on "Saturday Night Live," stepped into the reconfigured role of Axel Foley.

Right away, director Martin Brest realized that Murphy worked best when riffing off lived-in characters instead of one-dimensional straight men. Though the screenplay didn't dive deep into the lives of the people drawn into Foley's chaotic orbit, actors like John Ashton, Judge Reinhold, Lisa Eilbacher, Ronny Cox, and Paul Reiser gave the film a rich human texture that brought out a heretofore unseen warmth from Murphy. Gil Hill, the Detroit cop-turned-actor who tears into his role as Foley's enraged superior, single-handedly raised the narrative's stakes via his onscreen intensity alone. These were real people whose livelihoods were placed in jeopardy by Foley's self-righteous antics.

And then there's Bronson Pinchot, who did the unthinkable in 1984 by stealing an entire scene from Murphy as the espresso-obsessed art gallery employee Serge. We weren't used to seeing people fluster the comedic superstar, but Pinchot has Murphy off-balance throughout their first encounter. Unlike the cop car chemistry between Murphy, Ashton, and Reinhold, it's the kind of moment you can't recreate.

So when Paramount moved forward with "Beverly Hills Cop II" three years later, they focused on the replicable elements of the formula and wound up with a satisfying encore.

"Beverly Hills Cop II" wound up being the third highest-grossing U.S. release of 1987, and earned a solid Cinemascore grade of A-minus, so, despite its mixed-to-negative critical reception, the filmmakers' more-of-the-same approach worked. Sure, there was an aesthetic and tonal disconnect between the good-natured, visually unfussy approach of Brest and the mean-spirited, music-video glitz favored by Tony Scott, but, at its core, the sequel retained the original's zippy comedic rhythm.

Scott was also careful not to force callbacks to the first movie. There's no reason for Serge to show up, nor does Foley need to drop in on Lisa Eilbacher's Jenny Summers (his childhood friend who helped him infiltrate her art dealer boss's drug smuggling operation). Yes, the idea of Foley getting dragged back to Beverly Hills for another way-out-of-his-jurisdiction investigation strains credibility, as does the notion that he'd become best friends with Ashton's Taggart, Reinhold's Rosewood and Cox's Chief Bogomil (perhaps that's the series biggest failing to date; aside from the opening act of "Beverly Hills Cop," we have no sense of Foley's Detroit existence), but, again, we like seeing them together and this isn't "The Godfather Part II." We're here for action and laughs, and the film basically delivers.

Seven years later, Eddie Murphy's star was fading. He'd suffered a string of mild disappointments with "Harlem Nights" and "Another 48 Hrs.," and, after a brief comeback via 1992's "Boomerang," misfired badly with the woefully unfunny "The Distinguished Gentleman." He needed a blockbuster, so a return trip to Beverly Hills was in order. This time, a good chunk of the supporting cast stayed home, and their absence was notable.

Directed by a badly off-his-game John Landis (who'd previously worked magic with Murphy on "Trading Places" and "Coming to America"), "Beverly Hills Cop III" brings back Reinhold's Rosewood, who's now the head of an elite law enforcement operation that seems to have no explicit purpose. It's an amusing idea, but the character just doesn't work without the grouchy Taggart as ballast. As for the Disneyland-esque amusement park setting (which was nearly a city bus setting), I understand the desire to place the foul-mouthed Foley in a family-friendly setting, but Murphy is simply not in the riffing mood.

Gil Hill also returns for one last ride as Inspector Todd (his murder in the first scene compels Foley to once again wreck shop out in Cali), but the nadir of this flat, uninspired sequel is Pinchot's unnecessary curtain call as Serge, who is now a boutique weapons manufacturer. The whole purpose of Serge in the first film was to throw Foley off his tough-talking game; here, he's just a clown reduced to repeating his "No, I cannot" catchphrase.

Ashton's Taggart has been replaced by Hector Elizondo's Detective Flint. Elizondo is an immensely appealing actor in the right part, but his character is, much like the entire film, an afterthought. Which brings us to 2024's upcoming "Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F."

The good news: Reinhold's Rosewood is back in the fold for "Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F," which makes him the only actor outside of Murphy to have appeared in all four "Beverly Hills Cop" movies. Also returning, thankfully, is Ashton's Taggart and Reiser's delightfully clueless Jeffrey Friedman, both of whom might've helped draw a performance or at the very least a pulse out of Murphy in "Beverly Hills Cop III."

Had Hill not passed away in 2016, I suppose director Mark Molloy could've worked in a flashback sequence, but, as I've noted, this franchise works best when it doesn't shoehorn in cameos. To that end, I'm more than a little concerned that Molloy and company have contrived to mine Pinchot's Serge for more weirdly accented hilarity. Hopefully, his appearance is brief and painless (or, y'know, actually amusing and purposeful).

Most importantly, I hope Murphy is back on his game (he looks fairly energized in the very promising teaser), and eager to banter anew with Ashton and Reinhold. Late in the day sequels are typically a bad idea, but maybe producer Jerry Bruckheimer can work that "Top Gun: Maverick" magic once again. We'll find out next summer when "Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F" premieres on Netflix.