Lee Chan, Jr. (Richard Hatch) was an aspiring detective and a well-established klutz. His ability to suffer cringe-inducing slapstick silliness knew no bounds. Worse, he was engaged to marry Cordelia (Michelle Pfeiffer), who proved to be his equal in uncoordinated pratfalls. Lee worships his grandfather, the great detective Charlie Chan (Peter Ustinov). As a series of bizarre murders have plagued San Francisco, the police chief (Brian Keith) has summoned Charlie Chan to consult on the case. The chief is an ill-tempered hypochondriac who spends most of his time yelling. Lee's grandmother, Mrs. Lupowitz (Lee Grant), is desperate to spend time with her grandson and convince him that detective work is not for him. Often, she fondles and caresses her husband's urn, explaining how she needs him. His murder by the Dragon Queen (Angie Dickinson) was detailed in a black and white flashback. Yes, Charlie Chan solved the case.
The mystery is hardly a mystery and the comedy is atrocious. Charlie Chan spends most of his time making fortune cookie observations and marveling at the incompetence of his grandson. When the climax arrives to reveal the killer, Charlie exposes most of the characters for this or that, all of which is meaningless. Great, the chauffeur is an African prince. So what? This character is not really confined to a wheelchair. Impressive deduction, but meaningless. The big twist - such as it is - was revealed earlier to a casual viewer.
Despite an excellent cast, this movie is barely watchable. Skip!
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