63/100
Hadn't seen this since probably sometime in the mid-'80s—except for the redneck-bar scene, which I've watched conservatively half a dozen times since the advent of YouTube. (Could've sworn I even wrote about it, but checking the Scenic Routes archive turned up nothing.) And if ever there were a movie that's reducible to its galvanizing star-is-born moment, with everything else seeming comparatively inconsequential, 48 Hrs. has to be the one. Not that I don't enjoy plenty of other stuff, from Nick Nolte's trademark growly irascibility to Reggie being introduced belting "Roxanne" and interrupting himself during the chorus' layered lyrics, "RoxaPUTONTHEREDLIGHT RoxaPUTONTHEREDLIGHT." It's a decent enough buddy-cop picture, light on narrative (the way Jack gets involved with Reggie couldn't be lazier—he just happens upon Future Mike Ehrmantraut and his partner on the street and gloms onto their investigation for no reason whatsoever), heavy on the cross-racial chemistry that I think got kicked off in earnest two years prior when Stir Crazy made a mint. But it's remembered four decades later solely because Eddie Murphy walks into that bar and takes command of the screen with a confidence and authority that audiences had never seen before from someone Young, Gifted And Black. Poitier was plenty intense, to be sure, but in the '60s even he couldn't get away with lines like "All right, listen up. I don't like white people. I hate rednecks. You people are rednecks. That means I'm enjoyin' this shit." (To say nothing of n-word with a badge.) Even for those of us who'd watched Murphy singlehandedly take over post-Lorne SNL, this kind of megawatt star power from a 21-year-old's first movie role felt unprecedented. Reaction shots of Jack looking no less surprised and amused than we are double as Nolte happily watching his costar steal the movie. A christening.
Not a lot to say otherwise. Hill's presence here feels generic (albeit much less so than in the sequel, which I recall hating), except perhaps during Jack and Reggie's prolonged and ludicrously unmotivated slugfest. (It's more credible than De Niro and Grodin punching each other repeatedly in the face midway through Midnight Run, but not as much more as I'd have liked. Just feels crassly audience-goosing.) Annette O'Toole has been saddled with one of those tiresome, useless complaining wife/girlfriend roles and isn't even afforded the dignity of a resolution—as far as we know, Elaine's last angry outburst on the phone is the last time she and Jack ever speak, as O'Toole disappears from the movie thereafter (and wasn't in Another 48). I do not for a moment believe that Reggie would leave half a million dollars sitting in the trunk of his car for three full years in a goddamn parking garage, idiocy that I guess one or more of the four credited screenwriters somehow decided was necessary in order to stretch the narrative over two full days: "What if the money's in a garage and the garage is closed until Monday morning?" (Since when is any public garage closed for the weekend? That's not a thing. Is garage attendants charging your battery every month even a thing?) Didn't click my stopwatch or anything but I think there may actually be more screen time devoted to The Busboys performing "The Boys Are Back in Town but They Are Not Thin Lizzy, Same Title Different Song" than there is to car chases and shootouts, truly an absurd quantity of Busboys here. It's a testament to how strong the Murphy–Nolte pairing is that 48 Hrs. consistently entertains despite all of those weaknesses. Mostly you're just observing in awe as the molecular clouds that constituted young Eddie Murphy collapse into their center of gravity and initiate nuclear fusion. Alas, now a white dwarf.
ANAL-RETENTIVE TITLE CORNER: I originally had this on my master list as 48 HRS. (space, all caps), then switched to 48HRS. sometime around early 2006* (probably based on the Maltin Guide). And the latter is in fact what appears onscreen. But that logic would require me to call one of Scorsese's films After HOURS and revert to logging a 1999 comedy as GalaxyQuest. One-sheet credits box has a space, 48 HRS., and while it's in all caps, that's always the case, totally standard and ignorable. So really there's no reason I can see not to call the film 48 Hrs. (as IMDb always has).
* Eternal gratitude to archive.org for enabling me to speedily pinpoint stuff like this. Though they didn't start scraping my master list until 2000.