City Hunter (1993) review-a big creative swing and miss

While some could accuse Jackie Chan of playing the same kind of guy over and over, he’s at least tried to shed that skin in his later career.

Outside of portraying a Chinese revolutionary in the historic drama 1911 (2011), Chan channeled his inner Liam Neeson in The Foreigner (2017), showcasing his dramatic chops as a mourning father looking to avenge his daughter’s murder at the hands of IRA terrorists.

Even though critical reception for both projects was mixed, it showed that Chan was willing to use his cachet as an international superstar to stretch his acting range, rather than stick to his usual screen persona (a goofy, wholesome guy who loves martial arts).

One could argue that he chose these later roles out of necessity. After all, a 60-ish-year-old Chan simply couldn’t replicate the pure athleticism and intricate physical comedy that made him a household name in the first place.

But it should be noted that Chan has tried to mix things up before, with Wong Jin’s City Hunter (1993) being a noticeable mid-career experiment.

Instead of deploying his usual boyish charm, Chan is a considerably meaner in this film, playing a character who lustfully chases after women and dishes out violence in a very cavalier fashion.

Plus, the general tone of the film is a major departure from Chan’s previous work, where the comedy is much more Looney Tunes than his preferred Buster Keaton stylings.

Unfortunately, these changes don’t play to Chan’s strengths at all, and the general filmmaking on display isn’t strong enough to compensate for the movie’s many shortcomings.

As a result, all you’re left with is a really off-putting experience, where Chan and the filmmakers seem like they are actively trying to alienate the audience for 100 minutes straight.

In terms of plot, City Hunter follows the basic premise of the serialized manga of the same name (created by Tsukasa Hojo). Chan stars as a private detective who solves crimes alongside his assistant Kaori, who is the sister of his deceased partner.

After being hired to locate a media mogul’s missing daughter, the pair’s search leads them aboard a cruise ship that is quickly taken over by armed thugs. Wacky hijinks ensue from there, as a colourful cast of characters help Chan take back the ship from the gunmen.

Despite its many flaws, City Hunter has the decency to show you what kind of movie it is right out of the gate.

Within the first three minutes or so, the audience is hit with garish mugging from the actors, cartoon sound effects deployed to heighten jokes, and a pungent pervy tone that wafts right through the screen.

It definitely sets the stage for a film that’s consistently obnoxious and even downright depraved at times.

The one element that really soured me before the movie even got out of its starting blocks was the relationship between Chan’s private detective and his young assistant.

During the opening scene, City Hunter promises to take care of his dying partner’s 10-year-old sister and swears that he will “never seduce her.” Cut to the next scene where Kaori transitions from being a child to a beautiful woman (played by Joey Wang) in a single, continuous shot, with Chan’s character loudly proclaiming to the camera that such a development is “not fair.”

It would be one thing if this grooming joke was a one off, but the will-they-won’t-they relationship between City Hunter and his adoptive daughter is a romantic thread that’s woven throughout the entire movie.

Basically, Kaori’s whole deal is she’s constantly vying for her adoptive brother/father’s affection, and gets extremely jealous whenever he chases after other women (which is every five minutes or so).

While this back-and-forth is largely played for laughs, the filmmakers never at any point acknowledge that the idea of these two getting together is gross, which is a dark cloud that hangs over the entire picture.

To make matters worse, City Hunter doesn’t really offer up enough exciting action set pieces to offset its busted moral compass.

For most of the movie, any fight scenes that break out are criminally short. Chan and his stunt team never get the chance to build up any momentum before the filmmakers seemingly get bored and switch back to some juvenile comedy skit.

And any fight scene that IS given enough room to breathe is pretty uninspired, where Chan is relying on editing tricks (rather than his raw physicality) to wow the viewer.

This includes a sequence where Chan is chased by a gang of skateboard punks, and it’s pretty obvious that his most impressive moves are being performed by a double. Apparently, stand-ins were used for this scene because Chan suffered a serious ankle injury, which should have been a sign from the Gods that this silly sequence should have been cut altogether.

What could be more galling than a Jackie Chan movie where he doesn’t do all his own stunts? How about a pointless musical number performed by actors who aren’t even in the main cast? Yeah, sure. Why not? Here’s three minutes of that.

Things looked like they were headed in the right direction with the introduction of Gary Daniels as the villain’s main henchman. On paper, Daniels is a great opponent for Chan, given his sharp look and athletic acumen as a competitive martial artist in real life. But when the two finally get together for a big brawl, it turns out to be a giant farce.

Instead of a traditional one-on-one bout, the scene morphs into a deranged video game pastiche, where Daniels and Chan (who is hallucinating) dress up like Street Fighter characters for some reason.

I will commend the filmmakers for committing to the bit, since they went to the effort of using the official music and sound effects from the game, alongside decent replications of the costumes and signature moves of each character. This moment is so surreal that it’s gone on to become more famous than the movie itself, with thousands watching it on YouTube not even knowing it’s connected to City Hunter.

But in the context of the full movie, this scene is staggeringly divorced from the ongoing plot, and it completely wastes a performer like Daniels on some self-indulgent cosplay (or a blatant paid advertisement courtesy of Capcom).

It isn’t until the movie’s final reel that City Hunter provides a decent showcase of Chan’s abilities without any annoying interruptions.

In this climactic clash with Richard Norton (another real-life martial artist turned actor), the action and comedy is woven together far more naturally, and it at least looks like Chan isn’t hiding behind a bunch of smoke and mirrors to trick the audience (even though a double was reportedly used for Chan here to help save time on production).

Regretfully, this fun action sequence comes far too late in the film to salvage all the bullshit that came before it.

Said bullshit includes an earsplitting soundtrack, which sounds like it was composed by a cat operating a single Casio keyboard with faulty wiring. When this movie doesn’t sound like a cheap carnival act, the filmmakers pipe in some cheesy guitar licks to try and make Chan’s character into some kind of discount James Bond. It’s all very obnoxious.

The supporting cast (which can often be the saving grace of an overwise middling film) is also severely underutilized, with most of these side players not getting nearly enough screen time to make a good impression.

Besides the one-note villains, the best example of this phenomenon is when actor Leon Lai is introduced as a gambler on the cruise ship who throws playing cards like ninja shuriken. After that stellar introduction, Lai is featured in maybe two other scenes before he’s completely forgotten about, exiting the movie having never interacted with Chan in any capacity.

The only actor who escapes this project with any kind of dignity is 90s Hong Kong bombshell Chingmy Yau, who plays an undercover cop tasked with taking down the bad guys alongside Chan. Unlike all the other women in the film, Yau’s character is treated with some respect by the writers, since she’s allowed to be sexy, funny, and a competent ass kicker all at the same time. This comes to a head in the film’s finale, when Yau and Chan take out a legion of goons by engaging in a dance that combines impressive acrobatics with deadeye marksmanship.

However, these quality nuggets can’t distract from the crushing reality that Chan (the star of the film) is just not cut out for this kind of material.

While he is normally a master of combining action and comedy, his appeal as a performer has always involved stringing together daredevil stunts and action sequences where it seems like he’s seconds away from grievous injury or death.

Hardy any of that tactile quality is present in City Hunter, where any trace of a human element is usually hidden behind broad gags that wouldn’t be out of place in a Three Stooges short or Wile E. Coyote cartoon.

Plus, try as he might, Chan struggles to thread the needle playing a character who is an outright scoundrel and deviant.

His natural boyish charisma just doesn’t mesh well with scenes involving him drooling over attractive women and gleefully gunning down henchmen.

Maybe his performance was poisoned by my familiarity with his broader filmography, where he usually plays a morally upstanding hero who is sexually non-threatening.

But this role in City Hunter really called for a performer with more of an edge, backed by some writing that doesn’t solely trade in broad stereotypes.

Some may defend Chan’s exaggerated performance as being closer to the source material, but I don’t think that’s even true. Based on what I’ve seen from the broader City Hunter franchise (which is mostly the 1989 animated film subtitled .357 Magnum), the general tone is more of an even mix of comedy and serious drama. While City Hunter may act like a horny dufus a lot of the time, he’s at least shown to be intelligent and well-mannered when the situation calls for it.

In the 1993 live action film, meanwhile, Chan’s version of the character is a total boob 100 per cent of the time, which is more of a creation of writer/director Wong Jing. And unfortunately, Chan wasn’t able to surpass such a bad creative vision, which is probably why he reverted back to his usual uncomplicated screen persona for the rest of the 1990s and 2000s.

Despite this career trajectory, his brief detour into moral depravity for 1993’s City Hunter remains a fascinating oddity in his career, since I don’t recall him playing a character like this ever again.

And hey, we should always celebrate actors (or artistic people of any stripe) when they decide to venture outside of their comfort zone, since it usually breeds creativity and gives the audience something new to chew on.

But here, Chan’s big creative swing just doesn’t really work on any level, unless you’re in that rare subset of people who always wanted to see him dress up like Chun-Li for some reason.

If you’re a member of that hyper-specific group, then this movie might just be a home run.

Verdict:

4/10

Corner store companion:

Kit Kat Mix-Ups (because this snack mixes chocolate and Graham Crackers far better than this film combines action and comedy)

Fun facts:

-Release date(s): January 14, 1993 (Hong Kong), March 20, 1993 (Japan)

-Box office: $14.6 million

– Tsukasa Hojo’s City Hunter manga was serialized in the pages of Weekly Shōnen Jump magazine between 1985 and 1991. The manga was quickly adapted into an anime series that produced 140 episodes (and several standalone animated movies) from 1987 to 1991.

-Outside of this 1993 film, the City Hunter manga has been adapted numerous times in live action, including Hong Kong’s Saviour of the Soul (1991), France’s Nicky Larson et le parfum de Cupidon (2018), and Netflix’s City Hunter (2022).

-Internet film critic Movie Bob theorizes that actor Stephen Chow (Shaolin Soccer, Kung Fu Hustle) was originally slated to star in this adaptation of City Hunter given his close relationship with director Wong Jin at the time. However, I couldn’t find any other independent source to verify this claim.

-Richard Norton’s firearm of choice in this film is the Auto 9, the same modified Beretta 93R wielded by Peter Weller in the Robocop series.

-A English dubbed version of this movie can be watched in its entirety on the Shout! Studios YouTube channel.

Logan’s War: Bound by Honor (1998) review-one epic drop kick can’t save this movie

Writing about an actor or filmmaker’s work shortly after their death is always a dicey exercise.

On one hand, if the film is good, you can use it as a stepping stone to wax poetic on their entire career. I got that opportunity earlier this year through reviewing The Story of Us (1999), which I found to be quite enjoyable and emblematic of director Rob Reiner’s broader filmography.

However, if the movie is bad, you run the risk of coming across as a callous engagement farmer who is dancing on someone’s grave for clicks. This puts me in an awkward position having recently watched Logan’s War: Bound by Honor (1998), a made-for-TV movie starring recently deceased action star Chuck Norris.

Because the movie IS bad (no doubt about it), so how do I thread that needle without sounding like a brazen opportunist?

But I soon realized that even the most diehard Norris fans (I’m talking about the people who enjoy his work unironically, outside of all the internet memes), would probably admit that Logan’s War is not his best.

It marks a time when Norris had all but given up his role as a theatrical leading man and he was more than willing to rest on his laurels as a mainstay of scripted CBS programming.

Plus, despite getting top billing, Norris barely appears in this movie and only dishes out his trademark martial arts ass whoopings in the last five minutes.

So, I think trashing Logan’s War is a pretty safe prospect, given that it barely registers as a Norris vehicle at all and just comes across as some cheap movie-of-the-week that’s meant to be played in the background at a West Texas retirement home.

In terms of screentime, the real star of this film is the titular Logan (Eddie Cibrian), who’s orphaned as a young boy after his entire family is murdered by the mob.

After being taken in by his uncle Jake (Norris), Logan vows revenge and is trained in martial arts, eventually using these skills to become an Army Ranger.

But government-sanctioned bloodshed can only satisfy Logan for so long, and he eventually leaves the military to set his sights on finally killing mobsters who wronged him as a child.

From this synopsis, you’ve no doubt noticed that this movie covers a lot of ground, so much so that you’re probably wondering how the filmmakers elegantly squeeze all these story beats into a svelte 95-minute runtime.

Well, the short answer is: they don’t.

Instead, the movie just kind of arbitrarily switches genres every 30 minutes or so. It starts out as a coming-of-age story before transitioning into a military action film, leaving just enough room at the end for an urban revenge thriller to take over at the end.

This means that barely any time is dedicated to letting these disparate elements marinate, with all plot and character development flying by at lightning speed.

The cast member who suffers the most from this relentless pacing is Brendon Ryan Barrett, who plays Logan at 10 years old. Despite being saddled with some pretty heavy material (mourning the brutal murder of his parents and baby sister), Barrett manages to navigate these complex emotions with remarkable poise despite his age.

But just as we’re getting used to following this kid’s emotional journey, the film transitions to Cibrian as adult Logan, and all the groundwork that Barrett laid is thrown out the window.

It’s not that Cibrian is bad or anything, but the script basically doesn’t give him the opportunity to emote past the cool, stoic professionalism one normally associates with action heroes from the 1980s and 90s.

As for Norris, he’s such a non-entity in this film that he might as well not be there.

While he’s definitely up to the task of leading a grizzled pep talk or patriotic training montage, he doesn’t have the acting chops to anchor all the scenes in between. He showcases maybe two or three different facial expressions throughout the entire film, and his voice rarely rises above a dull monotone.

And then, he disappears for a 30-minute stretch in the middle of the film, like he couldn’t even be bothered to star in his own movie.

As a result, Logan’s War comes across as low effort and half-baked most of the time, even for a TV movie from this decade.

Outside of all the cheap production tricks (stock sound effects, digital zooms, flat lighting, etc.), the film’s writers can’t even commit to their zanier ideas.

Early in the story, it’s revealed that Logan possesses a supernatural ability called a “proximity sense.” It’s essentially a bootleg “Spidey Sense” or a watered-down version of “the Shining,” where Logan receives a vision of the future that warns him of incoming danger.

Is introducing psychic superpowers into a grounded action drama incredibly dumb and creatively bankrupt? Sure. But at least this reveal caught my attention and made me wonder how they’re going to incorporate this element into the film’s myriad fight scenes.

Unfortunately, the scriptwriters (which includes Norris and his brother Aaron) either got bored of Logan’s “proximity sense” or just plain forgot about it, since it doesn’t factor into the last third the movie.

I’m just saying, Logan could have definitely used these superpowers in the film’s climax, where he takes on an entire mansion full of armed mobsters.

The only reason he doesn’t perish during this assault is thanks to a last-minute save from Norris, who shows up despite not knowing about his nephew’s plan ahead of time.

At the very least, this nonsensical plot development leads to the movie’s best (and funniest) moment, where a 58-year-old Norris takes out the main villain by drop kicking him through a car windshield.

Now, clips like this might give you the impression that the action choreography in Logan’s War is consistently crazy and off-the-wall. However, the reality is that most of the fight scenes are pretty bog standard and not that different from what you would find in an average episode of Walker, Texas Ranger.

Norris’ stunt team is obviously very talented, but there’s nothing really going on behind the camera to enhance all the punches, kicks, and grapples.

In fact, some of the production decisions actively take away from the action, such as the filmmakers’ annoying tendency to inject slow motion into a lot of the fight scenes.

This makes a lot of the action choreography appear slow and stagey, like the cast is performing a martial arts demo for a crowd at Six Flags.

There are occasional flourishes of interesting action outside of Norris’ hilarious windshield kick, like when Cibrian takes out two mobsters by firing his Desert Eagle while hanging upside down in a broom closet.

But those moments are few and far between, which is a major problem when seeing Norris and his acolytes beat up bad guys is the only reason you’d watch one of these movies in the first place.

Instead, all you’re left with is something that looks and feels like an extended TV pilot that never got picked up for a full slate of episodes.

This kind of half-hearted approach to filmmaking is emblematic of the rest of Norris’ career.

Heading into the 21st century, he would eventually move away from full-time acting altogether, using his status as an elder statesman of cheesy action schlock to star in Polish bank commercials and book cameos as himself in other movies.

Today’s younger film fans will probably only recognize Norris as this parody version of himself, alongside his public opposition to gay marriage, signal boasting of Barack Obama birtherism conspiracy theories, and repeated endorsement of a country that’s currently committing a horrific genocide in the Middle East.

So while Logan’s War is a pretty forgettable film overall, it could be seen as a tipping point where Norris decided to just cash in on past glories and fully commit himself to bad politics.

That being said, his legacy hasn’t been etched in stone quite yet, since we’re only a couple months removed from his death at the age of 86.

And even though we won’t know what future generations will think of Norris’ career and public persona, I’m fairly certain that Logan’s War won’t be remembered fondly … outside of that climactic dropkick of course. That shit is evergreen.

Let’s watch it again, shall we …

Verdict:

4/10

Corner store companion:

Fibre One Cereal (because if you’re watching a Chuck Norris film in 2026, chances are you need more fibre in your diet)

Fun facts:

-Air date: Nov. 1, 1998

-Logan’s War was created under Norris Brothers Entertainment, a production company run by Norris and his brother Aaron. NBE is also responsible for producing the later seasons of Walker, Texas Ranger and other TV movies starring Norris such as The President’s Man (2000).

-Norris will appear in at least one more film following his death in March. According to IMDB, he has a supporting role in the horror comedy Zombie Plane (starring Vanilla Ice), which is scheduled for a late 2026 release.

–Logan’s War: Bound by Honor can be watched in its entirety online through the official Samuel Goldwyn Films YouTube channel.

Battle Creek Brawl (1980) review: rough-around-the-edges charm

A universal rule of life is that you only get one shot at making a good first impression, and that fact extends to big time celebrities as well.

Movie studio execs almost certainly had this maxim in mind during the production of Battle Creek Brawl (1980), since it marked Jackie Chan’s inaugural attempt to break into the U.S. film market.

Even though the Hong Kong martial artist had cultivated a series of hits in Asia, his star power remained an unproven commodity in the West.

So, to roll out the figurative red carpet, Warner Bros. producers did all they could to make Chan palatable to Western audiences, going so far as to hire the same director (Robert Clouse) and crew responsible for introducing Bruce Lee to the world in Enter the Dragon (1973).

While Lee became a household name thanks to that movie, Chan was less successful with Battle Creek Brawl, and would have to wait another 16 years before he truly “arrived” in the U.S.

Watching this movie today, it’s easy to see why Battle Creek Brawl didn’t connect with audiences or critics the way some hoped, since Chan’s signature kinetic movements are much more reserved compared to his other works.

Despite these limitations, Chan’s best qualities as a performer still manage to shine through, making this film an interesting historical artefact and decently entertaining action flick at the same time.

For his American film debut, Chan plays Jerry, a Chinese American living in 1930s Chicago with his family.

Jerry’s strong moral convictions and love of martial arts cause him to run afoul of some local gangsters, who repeatedly threaten his family through physical intimidation and eventually a kidnapping.

Through this kidnapping, the mob blackmails Jerry into entering a Texas street fighting tournament on their behalf, leading to a life-and-death struggle where his combat skills are put to the ultimate test.

Like a lot of Jackie Chan movies, the plot of Battle Creek Brawl isn’t that original or sophisticated. Instead, it mostly serves as a narrative device to string together a series of action sequences that showcase the star’s pure athleticism and daredevil charisma.

Having said that, the story here is particularly threadbare, with certain important plot points being brought up and totally forgotten by the end.

The worst example of this sloppy writing is the aforementioned kidnapping, where the bad guys snatch Jerry’s sister-in-law off the street and use her as leverage to get him to enter the fighting tournament. The mobsters then replace the sister-in-law with a decoy to ensure that the rest of his family aren’t tipped off to their sinister machinations.

This serves as a decent set-up for the third act, where the stakes are raised and Chan’s character is fighting for something more than just money and personal pride. The problem is that we never see these two women (the sister-in-law or her decoy) again after their initial introduction, and the whole kidnapping business is (I assume) resolved after the credits roll.

By failing to resolve these plot threads, the film’s finale is severely lacking in emotional payoff, leaving me with the bewildering feeling that I hit the “skip” button on my remote by mistake.

Equally confusing is the movie’s production design and costuming, which is a total mess in terms of maintaining a consistent look and feel for the established 1930s setting.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in the film’s underground roller derby scene, where the participants are wearing funky jumpsuits pulled right out of a 1970s disco dance lineup.

The film’s fighting tournament finale is also littered with background extras who are similarly out of place, including all the on-duty cops who (based on their uniforms) look like they spend most of their time chasing after the Dukes of Hazzard.

I know this all sounds like trivial details that shouldn’t amount to much, but it just points to the fact that the filmmakers’ commitment to making a period piece was half-hearted at best, making me question why they decided to take this route in the first place.

Of course, all this shoddy craftsmanship can be forgiven if the film delivers on its main course, which is Chan’s signature mix of comedy and martial arts that endeared him to generations of action movie fans.

On that front, Battle Creek Brawl is more of a mixed bag.

Compared to the insane stunt choreography that Chan would put together throughout the remaining 1980s and 90s, the fight scenes here are noticeably slower and more restrained.

This diminished work rate is clear from Chan’s opening scuffle, where it seems like he’s going out of his way to not hurt the American stunt team.

A noticeable lack of coordination is also present during the anachronistic roller derby, which is a fun sequence in concept but remains a little awkward in terms of execution.

That said, Chan performing at half speed is still a sight to behold, and the filmmakers do at least have the good sense to put him front and centre when it matters.

Chan’s status as a fearless stunt man is firmly established from the get-go, with his character being introduced in a scene where he fearlessly swings around the top of a bridge without any wires holding him up.

The movie also features plenty of solo training montages sprinkled throughout the runtime, where the camera is singularly focused on Chan’s impressive athleticism through long, uninterrupted takes.

Plus, as the movie goes on, it seems like the stunt team does eventually hit their stride, doing a decent job of synthesizing the action-comedy formula that Chan would go on to perfect in the subsequent decades.

The filmmakers are also good at keeping things unpredictable by adopting a “why not” approach for some of their fight scenes.

My favourite example of this kitchen-sink strategy takes place during the quarter finals of the fighting tournament, when Chan’s opponent gets tired of using his fists and opts to just run him over with a stolen police car.

However, the most impressive element of Battle Creek Brawl is how it manages to maintain a fun and charming vibe outside of its fight scenes.

Much of this is due to Chan, who remains a likable underdog protagonist even in quieter scenes involving his girlfriend (Kristine DeBell) or mentor (Mako). This feat is especially impressive when you consider the fact that Chan had to learn all his English dialogue phonetically for this film and didn’t rely on someone else to dub in his lines later.

The film’s supporting cast is equally responsible for cultivating this breezy atmosphere, with actors like Mako and José Ferrer being just as entertaining as Chan when fists aren’t flying.

Mako comfortably slots himself into the classic role of the martial arts mentor, putting Chan through his comedic paces as a surly chiropractor who has a weakness for Rubenesque women.

And Ferrer brings a surprising amount of laidback charisma to the table as the film’s main villain. Rather than spend his time snarling and lacing every line with creeping menace, this Chicago mob boss is far more affable when it comes to his criminal dealings, perfectly falling in line with the movie’s lighter tone.

These charming elements are also wrapped up in the film’s eclectic score, which mixes Spaghetti western whistling with some heavy jazz base lines.

Like a lot of Battle Creek Brawl, these disparate musical influences shouldn’t work when fused together. But, against all odds, the score eventually becomes a catchy earworm that’s perfectly synced up to the movie’s pervasive silliness.

Ultimately, the filmmakers’ refusal to take themselves too seriously is what saves this project from completely collapsing in on itself.

Had the movie detoured into dramatic pathos or over-the-top grizzly violence, then all of its bad writing and technical shortcomings would stick out even more.

But by keeping things fun and light throughout the entire runtime, Battle Creek Brawl remains an endearing viewing experience despite its many rough edges.

It’s the film equivalent of that weird guy you meet at a party who is a little off-putting at first, but he eventually wins you over due to his wholesome nature and infectious humour.

That’s essentially Chan’s relationship with Western audiences, since his hard work and raw talent (expertly showcased in this film) would eventually pay off and result in him becoming one of the biggest movie stars in the world.

So forget what I originally said about first impressions being the end all, be all. Sometimes life gives you countless opportunities to prove your worth. You just have to be willing to put it all on the line and pick up the pieces in case of tremendous failure.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

Verdict:

6/10

Corner store companion:

Ritz crackers (because this food item is pretty plain by itself, but serves as a good foundation for future projects)

Fun facts:

Release date: Sept. 10, 1980 (U.S.)

Budget: $6 million

Box office: $21.5 million

-Alternate titles: The Big Brawl, Killer’s Trench

–Chan finally received his major North American breakthrough hit with Rumble in the Bronx (1995). Not only was Rumble popular with fans and critics (even screening at the 1996 Sundance Film Festival), but the movie made back nearly five times its budget thanks to its run in international markets.

-Fans of Avatar: The Last Airbender may get a kick out of Mako’s role in Battle Creek Brawl. In both properties he plays an unconventional master arts master who loves tea and dishing out words of wisdom to his nephew.

–Battle Creek Brawl marks the first time Chan’s authentic voice was heard in a movie. Before this film, all of Chan’s previous work was dubbed in Cantonese or Mandarin by another actor.

-Both Chan and Mako would go on to voice Master Splinter in different screen iterations of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Mako would lend his voice to the character in 2007, while Chan was cast to give Splinter life in 2023’s Mutant Mayhem.

–Battle Creek Brawl can be watched in its entirety on YouTube for free (with occasional ads breaks)