Growing up in the era of video rentals, I experienced firsthand the thrilling chaos of seeking out the latest entertainment available on VHS tapes. Nowadays, with the vast resources of the internet, accessing any film—be it mainstream or obscure—has become a simple task. However, I fondly recall a time when we relied on local video stores to discover cinematic treasures. In the eighties and nineties, these stores offered a limited selection, sparking a sense of adventure as I visited multiple locations, each offering unique titles. Finding hidden gems was a delightful gamble, and sometimes, you’d stumble upon a true classic that no one else seemed to know about.
One such discovery happened when I was just thirteen, browsing my neighborhood video store. I gravitated toward the action section and selected a VHS tape for a film titled Big Trouble in Little China. Surprisingly, this movie had never aired on Canadian television, but my admiration for Kurt Russell, the star of the film, was more than enough to pique my interest. At the time, I had no knowledge of John Carpenter, the director, but after watching this masterpiece, I eagerly sought out all his works. The captivating Indiana Jones-style cover art promised thrilling adventures, and what I found inside was far beyond my expectations.
Upon inserting the tape into my VCR, I was immediately captivated by John Carpenter’s brilliant blend of exhilarating action and humor, skillfully combining elements of Hong Kong cinema with supernatural themes. I believed I had unearthed a hidden gem that few had seen—until 1996, when I acquired my first computer and discovered the film’s passionate cult following. Surprisingly, despite its immense popularity today, Big Trouble in Little China initially flopped at the box office in 1986. The film’s failure significantly impacted Carpenter’s subsequent projects, leading to reduced budgets for his later films. Nonetheless, his creativity shone through in other cult classics like They Live and Prince of Darkness, which also garnered dedicated fanbases.
The cinematic world of Big Trouble in Little China is shaped by a myriad of cultural influences. During the 1980s, Hollywood exhibited a fascination with Asian culture, resulting in several films exploring the East-meets-West trope. Titles such as The Challenge, Forced Vengeance featuring Chuck Norris, Year of the Dragon, and Eddie Murphy’s The Golden Child exemplify this trend. Ironically, this genre faced decline shortly after the release of Shanghai Surprise, starring Sean Penn and Madonna, which ended up being one of the decade’s most significant flops.
Originally penned by Gary Goldman and David Z. Weinstein, the screenplay for Big Trouble in Little China underwent a transformation from a traditional Western narrative featuring a cowboy teaming up with a Chinese railroad worker to rescue his fiancée. The script was reworked by W.D. Richter, known for his work on The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai, introducing the character of Jack Burton, a brash truck driver. John Carpenter, eager to explore genres beyond horror after his success with Starman, was recruited by 20th Century Fox. The studio likely envisioned a film in the vein of Indiana Jones, hoping to capitalize on the adventurous spirit of that franchise.
But did the studio even grasp the essence of the script?
At the time, Kurt Russell had already established his reputation through several iconic films with Carpenter, quickly ascending the ranks of Hollywood’s action stars. What drew both Russell and Carpenter to this project was its refreshing deviation from traditional storytelling. Typically, American films showcase a white protagonist saving the day alongside an Asian sidekick. However, Big Trouble in Little China defies this stereotype. Jack Burton, despite being the lead, is portrayed as a bumbling fool, his John Wayne-esque bravado masking his cluelessness. In contrast, Dennis Dun’s Wang Chi emerges as the true hero, motivated by the dire need to rescue his kidnapped fiancée, who is targeted by the malevolent Lo Pan, brilliantly portrayed by James Hong.
In the film, Jack Burton also finds a love interest in Gracie Law, played by Kim Cattrall, who, much like Jack, is somewhat clumsy and bewildered by the unfolding chaos. The ensemble cast shines, with comedic characters such as Donald Li’s Eddie and Kate Burton’s Margot providing additional layers of charm and humor, enhancing the film’s overall appeal. Victor Wong delivers a standout performance as Egg Shen, a sorcerer from Chinatown, serving as the heroic counterpart to the nefarious Lo Pan, culminating in an epic showdown during the film’s climactic moments.
The film’s success can also be attributed to Carpenter’s profound respect for the unique rhythms and styles prevalent in Hong Kong cinema during that era. The genre of supernatural action comedies, exemplified by directors like Tsui Hark, was highly popular, and Carpenter adeptly blended their energetic vibe with his own gritty approach to action, integrating elements of horror and science fiction. The action choreography, expertly crafted by James Lew, surpassed the quality of many Hollywood productions at the time. This stands in stark contrast to the poorly received English-language films featuring Jackie Chan, such as The Big Brawl and The Protector, which fell short of expectations. Carpenter embraced the dynamic elements of Hong Kong cinema, incorporating imaginative wire-fu sequences. Additionally, he, alongside Alan Howarth, composed one of the most iconic action scores of the 1980s, solidifying its place in cinematic history. The theme song, performed by his band The Coup De Villes, has also become a memorable anthem.
Despite its brilliance, the film struggled commercially upon its release in the summer of 1986. The studio hastily launched it to compete with the similarly themed The Golden Child, starring the undeniable box office behemoth Eddie Murphy. The marketing campaign failed to capture the film’s comedic essence, instead focusing on an image of Russell as a muscular action hero, emphasizing his character’s weaponry rather than his humorous role. Interestingly, Jack Burton’s on-screen body count is relatively low, with only three deaths, one of which occurs unintentionally.
The film grossed a disappointing $11.1 million, prompting Fox to abandon it shortly after its debut, shifting their focus to their upcoming blockbuster Aliens. However, the film gained momentum during the VHS boom, gradually attracting viewers through home video and cable broadcasts, ultimately evolving into a beloved cult classic. In 2001, during a famously spirited commentary track, Carpenter and Russell expressed satisfaction with the film’s growing cult status, even as Russell acknowledged it as one of his personal favorites. The cult following continued to expand, influencing a new generation of filmmakers, including Dwayne Johnson, who once aspired to create a legacy sequel. The film’s impact can be seen in modern works, with Taika Waititi drawing inspiration from it for his portrayal of Thor, and Chris Pine’s character in the recent Dungeons and Dragons film echoing traits of Jack Burton, albeit with a slightly smug demeanor that diverges from Burton’s essence. Notably, the film also left a lasting mark on video game culture, inspiring the design of characters like Raiden and Shang Tsung in the Mortal Kombat franchise.
As we celebrate thirty-nine years since its initial release, Big Trouble in Little China has finally achieved the classic status it has long deserved, transcending its former label as a mere cult film. What’s fascinating is how well the movie resonates with contemporary audiences, embodying the best elements of the 1980s while avoiding the pitfalls that some films from that era faced. Remarkably, both Carpenter and Russell remain active and continue to share their camaraderie. Could there still be another adventure on the Pork Chop Express? After all, it’s all in the reflexes.
