Jackie Chan’s candid comments about younger actors avoiding dangerous stunts reveal how stricter safety norms and modern filmmaking have changed action cinema, sparking emotional debate over whether realism and passion have been quietly sacrificed for comfort and caution.

Jackie Chan has never been shy about the pain behind his success, but his recent remarks about younger actors refusing to perform their own dangerous stunts have reignited debate across the film industry.

Speaking during a promotional event in late 2025, the 71-year-old action legend offered an unusually frank reflection on how dramatically filmmaking culture has changed—and why he feels something essential has been lost along the way.

Chan, whose career spans more than five decades, is famous for performing his own stunts at extreme personal risk.

From fractured skulls to broken ankles, his injuries are legendary, often replayed in end-credit blooper reels that became as iconic as the films themselves.

Yet when asked about working with younger performers today, Chan did not sound impressed.

“They don’t want to do it,” he said with a weary laugh.

“They say, ‘Let the stunt double handle it.’ In my time, we didn’t have that choice.”

The comments were made during a press appearance in Hong Kong, where Chan was discussing both his latest project and the evolution of action cinema.

While his tone was not openly hostile, it carried a note of frustration—and perhaps disappointment.

“I understand why,” he added.

“It’s safer now.

Insurance companies, schedules, technology… everything is different.

But when you don’t feel the danger, the audience feels it too.”

Chan’s remarks quickly spread online, sparking heated discussion among fans and industry professionals.

Some praised his dedication and authenticity, arguing that modern action films rely too heavily on visual effects and editing tricks.

Others pushed back, pointing out that safety standards exist for a reason and that Chan’s generation paid a steep physical price.

By his own admission, Chan now lives with chronic pain, hearing loss, and limited mobility in certain joints.

Still, Chan insists his criticism is not about glorifying injury.

“I’m not saying they should hurt themselves,” he clarified.

“I’m saying they should respect the craft.

When you train hard enough, the stunt becomes part of your acting, not a separate thing.

” He recalled spending months rehearsing a single fight sequence in the 1980s, memorizing camera angles and timing so precisely that there was no room for hesitation.

“Fear disappears when preparation is real,” he said.

Veterans of Hong Kong cinema have echoed similar sentiments.

In the city’s golden era of action filmmaking, actors were expected to train alongside stunt teams, often performing high-risk moves with minimal protection.

Chan emerged from that culture, shaped by his harsh training at the China Drama Academy, where discipline was unforgiving and physical endurance was mandatory.

That background, he believes, forged a level of commitment that cannot be replicated by technology alone.

Younger actors, however, face a different reality.

Today’s film sets are governed by strict safety protocols, union rules, and insurance requirements that often prohibit stars from performing hazardous stunts.

One unnamed producer responded to Chan’s comments by noting that a single injury can shut down a multimillion-dollar production.

“It’s not about bravery,” the producer said.

“It’s about responsibility.”

Chan acknowledged this reality but maintained that something intangible has been sacrificed.

“When the actor and the stunt are separated, the emotion is separated,” he said.

“The body language changes.

The audience may not know why, but they feel it.

” He contrasted modern performances with his own early films, where exhaustion, fear, and adrenaline were genuine.

“You can’t fake that completely,” he added.

Despite his criticism, Chan expressed admiration for younger performers’ discipline in other areas, particularly their physical conditioning and media awareness.

“They are smarter about their careers,” he said.

“We were reckless.

” He paused before adding, “Maybe too reckless.”

As the conversation continues, Chan’s comments have come to symbolize a broader clash between eras: authenticity versus safety, tradition versus evolution.

For fans, the remarks serve as a reminder of what made Jackie Chan unique—not just his acrobatics, but his willingness to put everything on the line for the sake of realism.

Now, as one of the last surviving icons of that old-school approach, Chan seems aware that his methods belong to a different time.

“I don’t expect them to be like me,” he said quietly near the end of the discussion.

“I just hope they understand why we did it—and why people still remember.”