As we near the quarter-century mark, Hollywood keeps reaching back and drawing ideas from the 20th century, resurrecting “Top Gun,” “Bad Boys” and now “Beverly Hills Cop.” But while two of those blockbusters opened to big box office in theaters, “Beverly Hills Cop: Alex F” is premiering on Netflix. I won’t weigh in on whether the streamer is leaving money on the table — who can say? — but this is exactly the kind of summer popcorn movie that used to (and maybe still does) motivate people to head out to the cineplex.

Instead, this is strictly a living room affair. Eddie Murphy returns in the fourth installment of the franchise as the playful and authority-thwarting Detroit detective Axel Foley, who makes his way back to the sunny climes of Los Angeles when his daughter’s life is threatened. Her name is Jane and she’s a defense attorney (played by “Zola’s” Taylour Paige) who is working a murder case tied to police corruption. The repercussions for taking this client are swift, as she soon finds her car — with her in it — dangling off the side of a parking garage.

Billy (Judge Reinhold), Axel’s pal from the old days, recently left the police department because he too had similar concerns about in-house misconduct. Taggart, his one-time partner (John Ashton), is now the chief and he’s reluctant to believe any of his guys are up to no good. So Billy goes out on his own as a private detective. And he’s the one that gets Jane into this mess. Naturally, he makes a call to Axel. “I’m on the next plane out there,” comes the reply.

It’s worth stepping back to compare this sequel to the 1984 original, because it is directly referenced over and over again, starting with the opening credits. Same music — Glenn Frey’s “The Heat Is On” — and a similar montage of everyday Detroit life. In both movies, this will be the most Black people to appear on screen during the entire running time.

Is Axel still driving that 1970 Chevy Nova from the original? (Squints) Looks close enough. Once again, the opening set piece has Axel hoping to bust some crooks, resulting in a chase. Once again, it ends with a boss unhappy with the chaos that ensued. Arriving on the West Coast, once again Axel finds himself arrested by the Beverly Hills Police Department, where he eventually convinces everyone that this cop from Detroit knows what he’s talking about, even if it involves some rule-breaking. In the original, it was two straight-laced detectives in suits and ties (Billy and Taggart) rolling their eyes at Axel’s antics; now that narrative function is filled by one guy (Joseph Gordon-Levitt).

Guess where Axel stays? Guess. Once again, it’s the Beverly Palms (the fictional hotel played by Millennium Biltmore). That $235 a night room in the original is now going for $940, which outpaces inflation by a couple hundred bucks. Bronson Pinchot is back as Serge, he of the unplaceable accent and mangling of names. Once again, the movie culminates with a shootout at some jerk’s mansion, where Axel saves the day, but not before getting winged.

Martin Brest directed the first movie and he had a slim resume at the time. Similarly, “Axel F” is the feature film debut of director Mark Molloy, an Australian who comes from the world of commercials. (He took over when directors Adil El Arbi and Bilall Fallah left to focus on “Batgirl,” the movie Warner Bros. killed last year, even though it was already in the can.)

The writers have devised not one, not two, but three major events to terrorize Jane — the aforementioned car-dangling, an assassination attempt on both her and Axel in the streets of Beverly Hills, and being kidnapped and held at gunpoint. One would have been enough.

But is the new movie any good, I hear you asking. It’s … alright-ish? Perfectly fine, even. Murphy might be one of the most talented performers of any generation and it’s thrilling to see him back in the role that turned him into a movie star.

But too often the new film traps the character in amber. He launches into one of his phony personalities and then he stops himself; he’s too tired for this nonsense. I wish there was more of that. A guy in his 60s might be over some of the shenanigans he pulled in his 20s. Axel doesn’t complain about his knees or his back or carry reading glasses and there’s not a gray hair on his head. I like that the script doesn’t play into the typical tropes about aging, but he’s operating more or less the same as he always did, rather than a guy who’s learned a few things along the way.

Ultimately the film functions as an elbow to the ribs: “Remember this? Remember how fun it was?”