Driving by his deep will of saving his job and proving his innocence, Jake Cates, a young courageous cop, asks for help from a con man to catch down a serial killer.
Walter Hill, who also directed the first film, surely recognizes the hollowness of what he's doing here. He also hasn't had a hit since "48 HRS.," which no doubt explains why he's once again tilling these charred fields.
From start to finish, the picture is barely alive, staggering through a cardboard obstacle course while waving around a few guns and breasts to keep the audience awake.
You know how sometimes, in a dream, you'll see these familiar scenes and faces floating in and out of focus, but you're not sure how they connect? Another 48 HRS is a movie that feels the same way.
Mr. Murphy has two comic moments, which aren't enough for a feature-length film. Among other things, he has developed some of the same maddening mannerisms that marked Frank Sinatra's performances in his Rat Pack movies.
Washington Post
January 01, 2000
Hill and his stars are merely going through the motions, but the motions are immensely familiar.
The idea of dropping in on Reggie Hammond and Jack Cates five years later presents some amusing and intriguing possibilities. But little thought or imagination have been devoted to considering how the two characters might have changed over the years.
It's a minor pleasure to see Murphy slightly subdued. What seems more problematic is the virtual exaltation of Dirty Harry vigilantism, the storm trooper mentality and behavior on Nolte's part that the film breezily takes for granted ...
