Big Trouble in Little China and Dismantling the “White Savior”
As I’ve slowly peeled through John Carpenter’s filmography, I’ve found some of the most interesting and frankly fantastic low-to-mid-budget films I’ve ever seen. From one of my all-time favorite films like The Thing, to one of my favorite political satires in They Live, Carpenter’s early career showed a fantastic range in genres and tone, while also being poignant with intriguing political messages that have stayed relevant through the decades. Seemingly out of left field, in the wake of films such as The Thing and Escape from New York, comes a film least expected from one of the more pessimistic and overtly political cult filmmakers of the late 70s and 80s: Big Trouble in Little China.
While I’ve been excited to finally sit down and watch Big Trouble in Little China, I’d be lying if I wasn’t worried about where the film would go considering how it presents itself to an outsider. For far too long, Western cinema — especially action films — that helm any sort of influence from non-white countries often spin into a pit of despair of blatant stereotypes, cringe-inducing racism, and all formed together with a “white savior” complex to top it all off. Seeing the muscle-clad, tank-top wearing machismo hero, Jack Burton, strewn across the entire theatrical poster like some smug, typical straight-white-male 80s action hero was a bit worrying, but I should’ve had more faith in John Carpenter, and his writing team. Big Trouble in Little China may look like a possible racially insensitive blunder through its marketing, but when diving into the film, itself, it’s a showcase of fantastic on-screen diversity, displaying positive messages about learning about other cultures, and all together, is a beautiful love-letter to Chinese martial arts movies and Chinese culture as a whole.
When displaying outside cultures to an American audience, western films tend to lean more into more sanitized depictions of said culture. Consistently, any typical American heroes that romp around environments typically out of their cultural knowledge are stereotypical set dressing, or are primarily shown within the more western friendly versions of these environments (think of it as someone thinking they’re eating genuine Chinese cuisine by going to Panda Express, instead of the mom-and-pop restaurant down the road ran by an immigrant family making culturally accurate dishes); what Big Trouble in Little China does amazingly, is that the entire narrative is helmed deep within a more authentic, non-white space, where typical American audiences may feel alienated with a more distinct, eastern-accurate presentation. Big Trouble in Little China still takes place within the United States, but it embraces those small pocket communities of genuine Asian culture like you see in California, which is a rare sight in cinema, and even today in American movies that blatantly rip aesthetics from other cultures; the wonderful production design and cultural embrace and love felt through the colorful, zany visuals of Big Trouble in Little China embraces true respect to China, not like the pandering disasters the Transformers movies were.
Big Trouble in Little China’s aesthetics, overall also go against the more Orientalist expectations for what we see in modern Chinatowns; the large, golden gates and big Buddha statues are largely absent from the whole ordeal, only showing up once the film blatantly dives into its wackier tone, and the whole film is just a parody of itself. Leaving behind the more white friendly depictions of Chinese culture for the moments where the film goes plain goofy feels like a parody of those aesthetics in and of itself; taking the more realistic, culturally accurate depictions of China for the outside streets and the business establishments around the place, and throwing in the more expected, fetishized props and environments for when the whole movie is just a Monty Python-ESC mockery.
In the bonkers, action-adventure story of Big Trouble, the character of Jack Burton acts as a wonderful gateway for general American audiences to peer into the beauties of Asia. Jack, wonderfully played by Kurt Russell, is an outsider to Chinese culture, but as he and his friends combat evil gangs and their rescue mission, his friend Wang Chi, acts as a respectful guide to learning more about Chinese culture. Jack is never an ignorant person, although he’s a bit hot-headed; the growth his character makes in learning more about the ins-and-outs to Chi’s life and the further growing of their friendship is extremely wholesome. I had mentioned before that I had an initial fear of Russell’s character turning into a “white savior”, being the ultimate driving force to wrapping up the plot and helping all the poor Chinese people from their oppression, but that’s never the case; Jack is just along for the ride more than anything else (he only wants his stolen big rig back, honestly), being a rather small piece in the overall battles to ensue. Dennis Dun’s Wang Chi can easily be argued to be the true star of the show if it wasn’t for the theatrical posters, since he portrays a great mentor role to Jack while also being a key figure in progressing the plot (in fact, he’s the one who even starts the plot’s whole momentum). Funny enough, the expectations of Jack being the true savior to everyone in this film is even turned on its head for a fantastic gag within the end of the second act: where Jack and Wang have to take on a large group of thugs, but Wang takes them all on flawlessly before Jack could even pull out his knife.
Through all the positive messages Big Trouble in Little China displays, there can be a solid argument made against the film in that it revels in a more “damsel in distress”-type plot, and that argument isn’t without merit. The whole narrative for Big Trouble kicks off when Wang Chi’s fiancé gets kidnapped shortly after her flight, leading to the inevitable rescue mission. Later in the film, even Jack’s potential love-interest finds herself captive, too, seemingly doubling down on the whole premise. Thankfully, Big Trouble in Little China never feels sexist despite the rather tired cliché the movie’s built around, primarily because the whole rescue mission, itself takes a backseat to showcase the zany, comedic action; it’s also helped by the fact that the goal of rescuing these women comes with the benefit of taking out a dangerous figure who’s been quite the trouble in this community. Ultimately, take the whole rescue plot for what you will; I certainly wouldn’t blame anybody for feeling either way on it, or just indifferent, overall.
Overall, Big Trouble in Little China is about as perfect as white filmmakers can get to homing in on Asian influences and paying the ultimate respect to their cultures. If you haven’t checked out Big Trouble in Little China, yet, expect a wild ride of great action and comedy, as well as a wonderful display of an impressively large Asian cast, and some fun being poked at films of its ilk that take potentially well-intentioned cultural mixing that end up being racially insensitive at best. Big Trouble in Little China might also be a great gateway into celebrating Asian and Pacific Islander American Heritage Month through the rest of May!
