Metro (1997)

Metro is one of those sleek, mid-’90s San Francisco thrill rides that remembers the most important ingredient in an action movie is a star who can make you lean in, and Eddie Murphy does it with snap, swagger, and that crisp, fast-talking timing that turns tension into entertainment. The film’s big set pieces are staged with a clean sense of geography and momentum, so even when the story stays comfortably within genre lines, the chase has real propulsion and the jokes land without deflating the stakes. It plays like a tough, glossy cop movie with a comedian’s pulse—hard edges, sharp dialogue, and a steady build toward confrontation. If you want a gritty, realistic police procedural, this isn’t that; but if you’re on the fence and craving a smartly mounted, high-energy cat-and-mouse vehicle for Murphy, Metro is a satisfying pick.

Metro is trying to mash up a slick ’90s cop thriller with Eddie Murphy’s fast-talking charm, giving you a hostage negotiator hero, a personal revenge hook, and a San Francisco chase-movie vibe. The problem is it plays like a checklist of familiar genre beats, with plotting that feels preassembled and jokes that arrive too infrequently to justify the “action-comedy” label. Murphy has flashes of charisma and a few solid one-liners, and the villain’s relentless pursuit adds some momentum, but the movie rarely surprises or sharpens into anything memorable. If you’re hoping for peak Murphy energy or a fresh crime story, you’ll likely feel shortchanged; if you’re fine with a competent, R-rated, been-there-done-that cop romp to half-watch, it might do the job.