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.

Tangier (1946) review- discount Casablanca

In modern film discourse, it’s pretty easy to call something derivative or a “rip-off.”

After all, we have over 120 years of movie history to pull from, which gives us the breathing room to spot repeated uses of certain plots, settings, and character archetypes over a period of time.

Movie-goers from the 1940s-50s, meanwhile, weren’t burdened with the same historical hindsight and couldn’t even rely on the internet or home video releases to keep track of every time Hollywood re-used the same picturesque rock formation for a generic western backdrop.

But even with that all in mind, I still think 1946 audiences would have tilted their heads at George Waggner’s Tangier, given how many elements it blatantly lifts from Michael Curtiz’s Casablanca (1942).

After all, Casablanca was a massive hit that netted Warner Brothers some major Oscar wins (including Best Picture), thereby guaranteeing it a firm place in the American pop culture zeitgeist.

The film’s success also encouraged Warner Brothers to produce several other films made in the same mold, with The Conspirators (1944) and To Have and Have Not (1944) liberally borrowing cast members and plot elements from Casablanca.

So by 1946, US movie fans were quite familiar with film noir set in exotic locales, where glamorous women and hard-nosed men fall in love while bringing down fascist sympathizers.

And Universal Pictures was definitely hoping to cash in on that formula with Tangier, resulting in a product that often looks and feels like Casablanca with the serial number filed off.

Despite being such a blatant knock-off, Tangier manages to retain some charm thanks to its strong cast, sharp dialogue, and moody visuals, which keep the film’s more derivative aspects at bay (for the most part).

That being said, the parallels between Tangier and Casablanca are nakedly obvious even from a surface reading of the plot.

In both films, the setting is a coastal Moroccan city during World War II, with most of the action revolving around a glitzy nightclub that is frequented by all the big movers and shakers in town. The “usual suspects” in Tangier are led by American journalist Paul (Robert Paige), who is on the trail of a Nazi collaborator attempting to buy his freedom using a stolen diamond. Paul’s quest eventually intersects with club dancer Rita (Maria Montez), who is on the trail of the same Nazi collaborator for personal reasons. The two eventually team up to recover the diamond and bring the secret Nazi to justice, all the while making bedroom eyes at each other.

Even someone with a cursory knowledge of Casablanca could pick up on the similarities at play here. Not only is Tangier’s setting and overriding conflict virtually the same, but the romance at the centre of the story occupies the same emotional space that Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman did in the 1942 film.

In that respect, Tangier definitely pales in comparison, with the romance between Paige and Montez feeling rushed and undercooked. Even if the two have decent chemistry, their relationship develops far too quickly, with the pair agreeing to marry after only knowing each other for a single day.

The filmmakers try to compensate for this weak romance by throwing a four-way love triangle (a love square?) into the mix, but that only serves to complicate what’s already an overstuffed plot.

Luckily, most of the sights and sounds surrounding the central romance are interesting enough to keep the rest of the film on track.

Despite not really working as a couple, Paige and Montez know exactly how to play up the film noir aspect of the story. Paige’s war reporter has a roguish Hemingway flair about him, whereas Montez is totally believable as a femme fatale whose glamour is ultimately a means to end.

The supporting cast is also a rich tapestry of character actors from Hollywood’s Golden Age, who manage to squeeze a lot of life out of what are otherwise stock noir archetypes.

Louise Allbritton shines as a fellow club dancer who is constantly standing in Montez’s shadow, both professionally and romantically. In less talented hands, Allbritton could have come across as whiny or annoying, but she manages to hit all the right notes and make this character a genuinely tragic figure.

Meanwhile, Sabu is playing largely the same role that Dooley Wilson (Sam) occupied in Casablanca, namely the musical sidekick who is a confidant to the main hero. There’s definitely a lot of cultural baggage to unpack with this type of character, but, for what it’s worth, Sabu uses his natural charisma to inject some much-needed levity into the film.

And then there’s Preston Foster as the stuffy military police colonel, who is the main obstacle standing in the heroes’ way. Again, this sounds like a generic villain role on paper, but Foster manages to imbue his character with a kind of gentlemanly poise that makes him at least fun to watch.

It also doesn’t hurt that the film’s overall production values are quite high, from the sets to the costumes to the classic film noir lighting that scratches a major itch for a certain breed of cinephile.

Like the best examples of the genre, the dramatic lighting filters through blinds, latticework, and prison bars, giving all the action a layer of texture that communicates awe and menace simultaneously.

The snappy dialogue is just the icing on the cake, with the cast effortlessly navigating through a steady stream of quips, comebacks, and double entendres that one would normally associate with an energetic stage play.

Unfortunately, some sound filmmaking around the edges can’t take away from the fact that Tangier doesn’t bring anything new or unique to the table to distinguish itself from other entries in the genre.

The Casablanca parallels really do drag everything down, with the filmmakers behind Tangier even having the gall to end their movie [SPOILERS] with the main characters escaping via an airfield. Where on Earth did they get that idea?

But beyond that, there’s a general sense that the filmmakers are running on autopilot, relying on the talented cast and crew to bail out what’s ultimately an unremarkable script.

Even the casting department didn’t think too deeply about who best to inhabit these characters. This film is inundated with far too many male actors with slicked back hair and pencil-thin mustaches, making it hard to tell who’s who for the first 20 minutes or so.

Still, if you have no knowledge of the films Tangier is cribbing notes from, it’s a fairly entertaining watch. Nothing life-changing of course, but it taps into an appealing vibe and aesthetic that is impossible to deny.

Plus, it’s difficult to be too harsh on a movie that takes inspiration from one of the most influential films of all time. Casablanca left a massive impact on the entertainment industry following its release, so much so that specific clips from that film are still being used as visual shorthand for what classic Hollywood romance is supposed to look like on screen.

So it’s only natural for that influence to worm its way into a bunch of other projects, whether the filmmakers are aware of that or not.

In the case of Tangier, I’m pretty sure Waggner and his writers knew exactly what they were doing, since there are too many glaring similarities between the two films to ignore.

The end result is like watching a really talented cover band play through all your favourite hits; sure, you appreciate the craft and skill on display, but can’t escape that sinking feeling that a genuine creative spark is missing.

Verdict:

6/10

Corner store companion:

Compliments macaroni and cheese (because it’s a cheap alternative to the real thing, but it still gets the job done)

Fun facts:

–Release date: June 6, 1946

-Tangier was one of the last films to be released under the “Universal Pictures” banner before the studio merged with International Pictures and was reorganized as “Universal-International” in July 1946.

-Following the release of Tangier, Maria Montez would only appear in nine other films before suffering a heart attack and drowning in her bathtub on Sept. 7, 1951. She was 39 years old.

-Leading man Robert Paige later became a TV newscaster in the 1960s, reporting out of Los Angeles for ABC News.

-After a multi-decade career in the film business, George Waggner transitioned to working in television in the 1960s, directing episodes of Batman, The Green Hornet, and The Man from U.N.C.L.E.