Whenever the subject of John Carpenter comes up, there is undoubtedly going to be someone who proposes that he is the greatest filmmaker of his generation, which they think is a controversial opinion when, in reality, it is one that many can find some value in, even if perhaps not to the extent of resorting to such immense hyperbole. Has there ever been a filmmaker who has not only cast as wide a net as far as genre is concerned, but also succeeded wholeheartedly in all of them? However, there was a time when he wasn’t viewed as this acclaimed elder statesman of the industry, and perhaps could even be considered somewhat divisive. This becomes most evident in films where he took some bold swings, since these are usually the places where the most interesting and subversive ideas tend to be most prominent – but similarly, has Carpenter ever truly been someone who leans towards the orthodox in the first place? One of his most celebrated works is Big Trouble in Little China, which started as a more dramatic screenplay by Gary Goldman and David Z. Weinstein, before it was reworked into something more comedic (as well as shifting the action from the turn of the 20th century to the 1980s), and then handed over to Carpenter, who had been craving the opportunity to make a martial arts film, having adored the genre and being fascinated by the mechanics that went into the creation of these works. The premise is simple: a foul-mouthed but well-meaning truck driver named Jack Burton is enlisted by his friend Wang Chi to save his fiancée, who he believes is being held captive somewhere in Little China. However, it is soon revealed that, while she is a hostage, it is for far more sinister reasons, since an ancient sorcerer has decided to make her his next victim so that he can continue to be immortal, leading Jack and his team on a thrilling chase through the neighbourhood. From this, Carpenter crafts one of the most wholeheartedly entertaining films of its era, a deft blend of comedy, action and fantasy, truly proving that they simply do not make films as they used to anymore.

Big Trouble in Little China is walking a very narrow conceptual tightrope, since this is ultimately a film set in a predominantly Chinese neighbourhood in Los Angeles, and therefore is constructed around ancient beliefs and traditions, but both written and directed by people who are not from within that community. Yet, there has never been any outcry about this film being an overly glib, misguided attempt at exploring these themes, primarily because everything is done with such care and affection that we don’t even notice where it could potentially be slipping up and struggling to find its voice. The foundation of this film is to tell a thrilling story about a team on a mission, insistent on rescuing a damsel in distress from a maniacal villain who has very sinister motives. This is where the film starts, but it is far from the only aspect that captures our attention, which is interesting considering that Big Trouble in Little China is not a film that seems to be too focused on deeper themes. If anything, Carpenter is taking the opportunity to dismantle any idea that his films have complex meanings or need to be subjected to additional interpretation. This is a film that needs to be experienced and enjoyed rather than dissected for more nuanced meaning. If anything, coming in between Starman and They Live, two films that Carpenter infused with layers of deeper meaning and socio-cultural messages, we can view Big Trouble in Little China as a momentary reprieve, an opportunity to escape from reality through a well-crafted, bitingly funny action comedy that knows how to capture our attention through drawing on common tenets of the genre, which interweave with the director’s fascination with martial arts as a form of physical expression, and his affection with the films that brought it to global attention. There are some wonderfully compelling depictions of ancient Eastern traditions (although the veracity of all of them remains to be seen – there was certainly some degree of sensationalism that took place when creating this film), and it leads to a film that doesn’t take itself too seriously, but still finds the time to be quite captivating when it needed to be, which makes a monumental difference.

One of the many reasons we can appreciate Carpenter, and why his films manage to all feel so unique even when playing in familiar territory, is built around how he develops his characters. His approach has seemingly always been to work in genres that are easily recognisable, but to insert characters who are not nearly as conventional, and perhaps even contradictory to the tropes of the genre, which is very much evident in many of his works. It does help that he enlists Kurt Russell, with whom he had worked on multiple occasions, the pair having done superb work on The Thing and Escape from New York, a career-high for both of them. In the part of Jack Burton, Russell is an absolute riot – he’s much funnier than usual, playing into the decision to create a character that is essentially a very skilled moron, a happy-go-lucky dunce who just happens to have a lot of brute strength and an almost vacant perspective, allowing him to quite literally roll with the punches, regardless of how much damage they may do. It’s not a performance that showcases his dramatic skills all that much, but rather functions as an exuberant expression of his pure charisma and star quality, both of which were vital to the success of the film. Similarly, there is some fantastic work being done by Dennis Dun as the mastermind behind the rescue operation, Kim Cattrall as someone who is positioned as a damsel in distress before revealing herself to be more cunning than people initially may have expected, and James Hong, who has yet to appear in a film where he doesn’t steal every scene he is in, playing the central villain in a wonderfully deranged performance that once again highlights his status as one of the most consistently brilliant actors of his generation. Carpenter uses his cast exceptionally well, bringing so much unique energy to the film through allowing them to essentially take part in this playful spoof of a genre that everyone seems to uniformly adore – no ones takes the film all that seriously, while also not feeling like they’re above the roles, leading to a more engaging, spirited set of performances that feel much more compelling than we may have anticipated at the start.

When it comes to bringing all of these ideas to life on screen, Carpenter does something very interesting with Big Trouble in Little China, which is to recognise that it occupies a genre that is often mercilessly mocked for certain elements, and rather than attempting to remedy them, the director chooses to lean into these elements, making it clear that he is very much aware of how this genre is traditionally viewed, and chooses to intentionally evoke the same sense of mindless entertainment that usually comes pre-packaged with these stories. At its core, the film is 100 minutes of wall-to-wall action, which finds the director doing some of his most liberated work – he doesn’t need to be weighed down by an overly complex story, and instead can focus on the staging of these impressive action sequences (of which the revised screenplay actually contained more that had to be excised for time constraints), focusing mostly on creating the kind of film that had enthralled him in previous years. The stilted dialogue, complete lapse of logic and the sometimes absurd storyline (which also skirts around the edges of controversy, but the fact that it has remained mostly without too much criticism is an encouraging sign that audiences can recognise parody and that Carpenter is not punching downwards at all) are all hallmarks of the genre, and something that Carpenter chooses to preserve rather than dismantle, showing that he not only had the deep knowledge of the genre, but also the genuine love for these films that prevented him from even considering making an elevated version of the films he adored. It’s an exceptionally well-made film, and Carpenter proves that even in a genre with which he didn’t have direct experience, he could adapt his style and directorial approach to be just as meaningful and captivating. The direction is fluid and moves at breakneck speed (the fact that the film clocks in at less than two hours is an absolute miracle and all the proof we need to know that a strong action film does not need to overstay its welcome), while never sacrificing the qualities that make the film so special, like the witty dialogue, memorable musical cues (composed by the director himself, as usual) and the stunning production design, which brings the world of Big Trouble in Little China to life on screen.

Big Trouble in Little China is certainly not a perfect film (although its most radical supporters may disagree), but it proves to be an absolute blast, being one of the rare instances of a film that is very much aware of its own shortcomings, and chooses to embrace the silliness rather than trying to avoid those flaws, which makes it a far more mature and candid work, and one that is far more committed to the premise than we may have expected, proving that even the most inane of concepts can have promising results when there is enough attention to detail. It’s a wonderfully compelling film that knows the audience will likely step into this film with certain expectations, which it intends to meet wherever possible, while also putting in the effort to make the experience one that isn’t as predictable as we may imagine. There’s not much point in praising Carpenter as the definition of a cinematic revolutionary, since he’s more than proven his status as one of the true iconoclasts of the medium, with every ounce of acclaim he’s received over the past few decades being a result of audiences realising that he has always been focused on reinventing every genre in which he has expressed interest. It’s not the epitome of his skills, and very rarely will we find anyone who asserts that it is his absolute magnum opus (which is less of a knock against this film and more just a result of him having directed half a dozen canonical masterpieces that are even more impressive than this film), but as far as meaningful, well-crafted genre films go, you would be hard-pressed to find something more enthralling than this one, a wonderfully offbeat, hilarious and enthralling action comedy that knows how to handle many different genres at once, becoming an absolute triumph in terms of both form and structure, eventually proving to be one of the most entertaining films of the 1980s, and one that remains as brilliant today as it was forty years ago, proving that nothing ages quite as well as a strong, well-crafted action film when done correctly.