Nearly 30 years after the release of Bad Boys, rebellious cops Marcus (Martin Lawrence) and Mike (Will Smith) are back in the franchise’s fourth installment, Bad Boys: Ride or Die, now in theaters. And while most of the attention may be on Smith (especially in the wake of the infamous Oscar slap), it should be on Lawrence, who delivers the greatest performance of his career. And it’s not just a great performance—it’s seriously Oscar-worthy. Bad Boys: Ride or Die finds Marcus and Mike still working as cops but settling into the next phase of their lives—they’re simply not the young, spry warriors they once were. The plot follows the attempted framing of Mike and Marcus’ former police chief Captain Howard (Joe Pantoliano), and the Bad Boys’ extraordinary efforts to exonerate him. There is no end to the shenanigans that co-writers Chris Bremmer and Will Beall throw into the mix, giving Lawrence, in particular, an endless array of scenarios to show us his exceptional talents. While he’s always been a beloved actor and comedian, Ride or Die allows Lawrence to bring everything he’s done so well over his career into one spectacular role. This comes across in the film almost immediately. Marcus has always been passionate about snacks, and the first scene of Ride or Die has Lawrence playing it up to delirious heights. While driving to an important destination, Marcus has heartburn, and implores Mike to stop at a corner store for ginger ale. Given a tight 90-second deadline, Marcus flings himself out of the car to grab a bottle. This should be a mere throwaway, a brief flash that gets us from point A to point B, but Lawrence immediately makes it into something more substantial. Employing a frantic, childlike (or maybe Homer Simpson-like) wonder, Lawrence plays Marcus like a kid in a candy store, eyes flush with amazement, mouth quivering with delight. He simply cannot resist a bag of Skittles—a relatable beat—and tears it open and pours some in his mouth before paying. HIs eyes dart around wildly as he takes in the veritable cornucopia of treats, none of which will help his heartburn. He’s running out of time, but at the till, he simply can’t resist the allure of the day-old hotdogs turning on the grill, salivating like a dog and looking up at them in ecstasy. He even talks to the hotdogs like he’s courting them as if they’ll be extra juicy if they hear his sweet talking. Lawrence’s charisma and hearty lean into an excessive passion for snack foods transforms a superfluous scene into a brilliant one, a remarkable and long-developed skill that he makes look easy. It’s not just funny; it’s masterful. That endless desire for laughs finds a great outlet in Marcus’ storyline. He survives a heart attack and believes he’s invincible as a result, letting Lawrence push his character to even more hysterical new heights. Marcus’ sense of invisibility feeds his obsession with snacks, which leads to his most show-stopping moment: a snack-fueled shootout in a neon-drenched nightclub. While investigating Howard’s alleged fraud, a shootout breaks out, and Marcus hides behind a table holding a bowl of jellybeans and a vat of Kool-Aid. The table gets knocked over, sending the jellybeans cascading down upon him. Lawrence’s face explodes with giddiness, and jelly beans begin to fall on his eager tongue. In ridiculous slow-motion, Lawrence chews and spits out a black jelly bean, wounding his morale. But when someone shoots the Kool-Aid, a tantalizing red stream flows, and Marcus drinks eagerly, refueling his confidence. He gets up, gets his gun out, and he’s ready to fight. It’s sheer outrageousness that should come off as inane and unnecessary, yet Lawrence sells Marcus’ desire for jellybeans and Kool-Aid—a ridiculous idea, I know, but he magnificently leans into the weird. Ride or Die also allows Lawrence to flex his dramatic chops along with his comedic genius. When Marcus’ wife’s home is invaded (it’s a whole thing), we see why he is such a revered cop. His nightmares are coming true as his wife and children are in genuine danger, and Lawrence sells the horror that comes alive in Marcus’ eyes. Yet he doesn’t lose his trademark humor; he balances his stone-faced intensity, as he fears for his family’s life, with perfect comic timing, instructing his son-in-law Reggie (Dennis Greene) via headset on how to take down the assailants coming to kidnap his wife. This was the best-received scene during the packed screening of the film I attended, all thanks to Lawrence. Reggie piles up one kill after another (he’s a Marine), Marcus shouts, “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, motherfucker!” which elicited massive laughter and riotous applause from cinemagoers. It’s a moment that points to why his performance is extraordinary: Lawrence effortlessly veers from Looney Tune slapstick to earnest emotions making both believable and sincere. To longtime fans of the comedian, that Lawrence is so impressive here isn’t surprising. But he’s spent decades building himself as one of the most consistent—and best—comedic actors we have, and Ride or Die serves as a testament to this. Lawrence has never been afraid to do what it takes for a laugh, and his gusto has always elevated everything he’s in, no matter how wild, from his ’90s sitcom Martin to Big Momma’s House. He infuses that silliness with genuine pathos, making his oft-ridiculous characters empathetic where others may not be able to. As much as I earnestly believe Lawrence deserves an Oscar for Bad Boys: Ride or Die, I recognize this is unlikely to happen. For one, the Academy has never been particularly kind to broad comedy, and when it recognizes a movie or performance in the genre, it’s more than often a dramedy—which Ride or Die is very much not. But much like Melissa McCarthy’s Oscar-nominated Bridesmaids performance, Lawrence’s work in Ride or Die is the definition of committed: a relentless barrage of jokes, perfect line readings, and immaculate comic timing. McCarthy’s performance and subsequent nomination launched her career to staggering highs, while also honoring a body of work that had always been textured and impressive. If the Academy has any guts, they’ll be prepared to capitalize on a career of great work that’s synthesized into career-best work from a legendary comedian, and give Martin Lawrence’s career a spectacular second wind.
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