By 1995, the Buddy Cop subgenre of action films had been pushed and twisted to its creative edge. From humble beginnings exploring different personality types in classic cop shows like Dragnet or in westerns where a white cowboy must work with a Native American or Mexican in order to complete a mission, the genre has expanded to pair up as many conflicting combinations one could imagine. These combinations range from actor and cop (The Hard Way, Showtime), mom and cop (Stop or My Mom Will Shoot), kid and cop (Cop and a Half), to even the ridiculous (but predictable) alien and cop (Alien Nation).
By far the most popular Hollywood buddy cop construction combines a white cop and a black cop. When looking at this construction two iconic films easily come to mind. The first film, 1982's 48 Hours, combines a gruff, Eastwood-esque policeman (Nick Nolte) with a wisecracking, street savvy criminal (Eddie Murphy). While Eddie Murphy's character is not technically a cop, he assumes that role as the film progresses. 48 Hours, unlike many of its successors, takes advantage of its racial diversity by exploring racial dynamics. Not afraid to show some of the preconceived animosity between people of different races, 48 Hours features believable uses of racial slurs, although most of the exploring of race ends up being portrayed with a comedic tone. Eventually, the two characters find common ground and use their combined skills to defeat the bad guys, since neither of the characters could have achieved their goals with only their individual contacts and skill sets. One interesting observation about 48 Hours involves the characterization of Nick Nolte's character. Instead of representing some sort of normalcy by espousing characteristics normally given to white policeman in popular culture (following the law by the book, straight-laced), Nick Nolte's character is just as much a rebel as Eddie Murphy's character. He doesn't drive a traditional police cruiser. He is quick to violence, and he ultimately trusts a criminal enough to let him use a gun. Sure, 48 Hours defines its black character as the Other, but at least the Other is not portrayed as being any more animalistic or brutish as his white counterpart.
While 48 Hours did not invent the wheel of the buddy cop genre, it probably defined the expected dynamic between the cops in popular culture, especially in films that pair a black cop and a white cop. Black comedians have found a wellspring of roles requiring comedic skills to balance out the action chops of their white co-stars. Martin Lawrence (Blue Streak and National Security), Tracy Morgan (Cop Out), Chris Tucker (Rush Hour), and Damon Wayans (The Last Boy Scout) have all found relative success in playing this specific role. Even archetype originator Eddie Murphy has replayed the role in films like Metro and Showtime.
In contrast to 48 Hours and its progeny, 1987's Lethal Weapon, the second iconic buddy cop film, subverted much of the stereotypical racial dynamics played out in films before it. Danny Glover's Murtaugh is the established cop in this film. He has achieved a middle class dream in a large city. He is surrounded by a loving wife and kids and carries a clean reputation as a cop that does his job the right way. Reluctantly, he has to join up with Mel Gibson's Riggs, who is reckless, on the edge of suicide, and quick to violence. Neither Danny Glover nor Mel Gibson would ever be characterized as comedians, but the majority of funny moments are given to Mel Gibson's character, including an odd love of eating dog biscuits. Unlike 48 Hours, Lethal Weapon never spends time exploring racial dynamics by viewing the relationship between the two officers with an almost post-racial perspective. Some may view this as a positive of the film because it was and still is rare to see a black character in a film lack at least some stereotypical urban or ghetto qualities. Others may view this as a negative of the film since the opportunity to address ever-present racial issues was squandered. I tend to view it as a positive because it's rare that a white character in a film envies the life of a black character that is not in a position of extreme fame or wealth. Riggs becomes a fixture in the Murtaugh household to the point where Murtaugh's wife becomes his de facto mother, doing his laundry, fixing him food, and expressing continual worry about his safety and his love life. Riggs sees the life he hopes to have, and as the film series continues, he slowly builds his life based off of the pattern set by Murtaugh. He eventually meets Rene Russo's character, marries her, and states his wishes to start a family. A good example of the extremes portrayed by these two movies can be seen in the fates of the black characters at the end of the films. In 48 Hours, Eddie Murphy's character is back in jail, with a little taste of freedom and adventure granted by Nick Nolte's need for an inside source. In Lethal Weapon, Danny Glover is reunited with his family in their nice, middle class home.
So where does Money Train fall within the canon of buddy cop movies? Squarely in the center.
Money Train follows the story of two adopted brothers (Wesley Snipes and Woody Harrelson) and their jobs as transit cops in New York City. Once Jennifer Lopez's Santiago joins their unit, a love triangle emerges, and the three cops join forces to take down a ruthless arsonist, tolerate a horrible boss, and try to save Woody's character from the consequences of his gambling debt. From the get-go, Money Train seems to follow the Lethal Weapon model of the black-white buddy cop dynamic. Wesley Snipes portrays the more stable character that has the more attractive life. He gets the girl, and he's got the looks. According to dialogue in the film, he may have also been the two brothers' adopted mother's favorite since she was also black. Woody Harrelson fits the Riggs archetype pretty well. Instead of flirting with suicide, he expresses his self destruction through a gambling addiction and a nasty temper. He knows others see him as a "fuck up", which motivates his gambling because he's always looking for that big score to prove everybody wrong. It's this inferiority complex that motivates the main plot line, the theft of the money train that carries all the earnings of the NYC subway system.
Unlike Lethal Weapon, Money Train does explore racial dynamics. The relationship between the white cop and the black cop is especially interesting because they are brothers. When characters are introduced to the pair, they immediately question their familial connection. In these scenes, a sort of racial empathy is revealed by the two leads because they both feel attacked by the lack of understanding exhibited by these other characters, especially their nasty boss played to greasy perfection by the notorious Robert Blake. This racial empathy is displayed by other characters in the film both onscreen and offscreen. The two cops frequent a bar with a white owner who acts as a paternal figure for the pair, and the oft-mentioned mother clearly displayed a love for both of the characters regardless of their races. When a character questions the two cops about their races or insults them for it, that character has clearly been pegged as a "villain" by the film. Of course, these villains get their comeuppance later in the film when the other transit cops are embarrassed, and Robert Black gets punched in the face by two guys at the same exact time.
One of the stronger qualities of Money Train is its integration of a buddy cop movie with a heist film. It's interesting that the films resolves its buddy cop storyline with about 45 minutes of run time left. Plus, it's that resolution that leads to the impetus to go through with the heist. The film teases the heist from the beginning, but it does not go through the rote planning montages that most heist films feature. The foundation of the heist is detailed through observation in the film and from dialogue between the two male leads. Compared to other heist films, the plan to steal the money train is relatively simple: enter through the grate at the bottom while the officers are out of the train, bag up the money, stop the train on the tracks, and exit through a manhole in Central Park. Of course, the heist doesn't go as planned, but it's more fun that way, right?
Another strong quality of the film is the chemistry between Snipes and Harrelson. The actors work well as foils and friends equally. The producers of the film were smart to capitalize on the chemistry the two actors developed on the set of White Men Can't Jump. Both actors are believable as men of action and men of humor.
Overall, Money Train employs an interesting twist on the Buddy Cop genre by making the racial empathy shared between the two leads a point of emphasis in the film. While any buddy cop movie lives up to the form by focusing on the differences between the two main characters, Money Train does a good job providing a balance without becoming overtly preachy, kitschy, or bitter.
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