The Pickup

There is a specific frequency to Eddie Murphy’s onscreen confidence that acts like a prehistoric tractor beam for my attention. Even when the material is thin, the man operates with a "movie star" wattage that feels increasingly rare in an era of TikTok-famous cameos and algorithmically generated ensembles. In The Pickup, Murphy steps back into the armored truck—quite literally—playing Russell, a veteran driver who has seen every pothole in the city. But the real experiment here isn't the heist plot; it’s the chaotic chemistry generated when you lock the king of 80s fast-talk in a cramped cabin with the crown prince of Millennial apathy, Pete Davidson.

I watched this on a Tuesday morning while eating a slightly-too-crunchy granola bar that made me miss three lines of dialogue, but honestly, in a movie like this, you can usually fill in the blanks through sheer vibes.

The Odd Couple in an Armored Box

The premise is a classic "two-hander" that feels like it was plucked directly from a 1994 development slate, albeit with a 2025 budget. Eddie Murphy is Russell, a man who treats his armored truck like a sanctuary of procedure. Pete Davidson plays Travis, a trainee who seems like he’s perpetually recovering from a very specific type of hangover. On paper, it’s a collision of eras—the high-energy precision of Beverly Hills Cop meeting the "I’m just happy to be here" energy of a modern SNL digital short.

Surprisingly, it works more often than it doesn't. Murphy has entered a phase of his career where he’s happy to play the straight man, letting his exasperated facial expressions do the heavy lifting while Pete Davidson improvises about why armored trucks should have better snacks. Their banter provides the necessary friction to keep the first act from feeling like a standard commute. The movie effectively treats physics like a polite suggestion rather than a law, especially once the actual "pickup" goes sideways.

Keke Palmer Steals the Keys

While the marketing pushes the Murphy-Davidson bromance, the secret sauce is Keke Palmer as Zoe. Usually cast as the charismatic lead you want to root for, Palmer pivots here into a "savvy mastermind" role that is clearly the most fun anyone had on set. She brings a lethal, fast-talking intelligence to the antagonists that forces Murphy to actually break a sweat. It’s a reminder that Palmer is one of the most versatile tools in the current Hollywood shed; she treats the crime-thriller tropes with a wink but never lets the stakes completely evaporate.

Director Tim Story—a veteran of the Ride Along franchise—knows exactly how to stage these kinds of mid-budget actioners. He doesn’t over-edit the fight choreography into a blurry soup, which I deeply appreciated. There’s a particular sequence involving a hijacked ramp truck and a mid-air cash grab that felt like a genuine throwback to practical stunt work. In an age where every explosion feels like it was rendered on a laptop during a lunch break, seeing Ismael Cruz Cordova and Jack Kesy engage in a high-speed pursuit that actually involves real vehicles hitting real objects is a refreshing bit of "streaming era" luxury.

The Streaming Shimmer

However, we have to talk about the "look" of the thing. Like many contemporary releases designed for a home-viewing premiere, The Pickup suffers from that glossy, ultra-saturated digital sheen. Cinematographer Larry Blanford captures the action clearly, but there are moments where the lighting feels a bit too "studio-clean" for a gritty crime comedy. It’s the kind of film that is clearly designed to look great on a high-end OLED TV but might feel a bit hollow on a massive theatrical screen.

There’s also the matter of the script by Matt Mider and Kevin Burrows. It’s functional, hitting all the expected beats of betrayal and "one last job" fatigue, but it lacks the razor-sharp wit of the films it's clearly homaging. Most of the genuine laughs feel like they were birthed in the moment by the cast rather than the page. Eva Longoria shows up as Natalie, providing some much-needed groundedness, but she’s somewhat sidelined by the relentless momentum of the chase.

Ultimately, The Pickup is a sturdy piece of entertainment that knows exactly what it is. It doesn’t try to redefine the heist genre or offer a profound meditation on the state of the world; it just wants to see if Eddie Murphy can still make a car chase look cool while Pete Davidson complains about his lower back. It succeeds as a "Friday night on the couch" movie—the kind of film that would have been a massive hit at the 90s box office but now serves as a high-quality bridge between more "prestige" streaming offerings. It's fun, it's loud, and Palmer is worth the price of the subscription alone.