Obviously the problem is with your thinking now and not the thinking at that time. The reason there was no problem back on the 90s is because people were not racist back in that time. It's only now, where people like you decide to associate races with people instead of NASCAR. Just let it all go, say whatever you want, and stop making everything bad. There is no racism, only people who talk about it.

It all comes down to the actual filmmakers. Producers, Director, Screenwriter and so on. Jon Favreau is a far different filmmaker than Marc Webb... but regardless, many great actors are often made crap by bored filmmakers.

Alright, listen up, because Mortal Kombat II the movie dropping in 2025 better bring the tournament and fatalities like it’s auditioning for the role of "Most Epic Bloodbath Ever," or I’m personally gonna uppercut the scriptwriters into next week. The first flick in 2021 was like a fancy appetizer—sure, it had some cool fights and Scorpion yelling "Get over here!" like a pissed-off GPS, but where was the main course? Where was the freakin’ tournament? It’s called Mortal Kombat, not Mortal Chitchat Before We Maybe Fight Later.

This time, they’ve got no excuse. It’s 2025, we’re all jacked up on IMAX-sized hype, and if they don’t deliver a tournament so brutal it makes the Hunger Games look like a bake-off, I’m rioting. Picture it: Johnny Cage strutting in with his shades, cracking wise before he cracks skulls, Kitana fanning someone’s face off (literally), and Shao Kahn sitting there like the galaxy’s angriest HOA president, demanding Earthrealm’s lawn gets mowed with a fatality. We need spines ripped out, heads popped off, and at least one poor schmuck getting yeeted into a pit of spikes—because if I don’t see a fatality that makes me go “OH DAMN” while spilling my popcorn, what’s the point?

The first movie teased us like a trailer for a game we never got to play. This one better be the full DLC pack—tournament mode unlocked, fatality button mashed, and a big ol’ “FINISH HIM” screaming across the screen. If it’s just another prequel snoozefest with Cole Young doing cardio instead of kombat, I’m sending Sub-Zero to freeze the director’s Netflix queue. Get it together, Hollywood—give us the gore-soaked, bone-crunching, tournament-slaying masterpiece we deserve!