Films of Fury: The Kung Fu Movie Book Read online

  Films of Fury

  The Kung Fu Movie Book

  by Ric Meyers

  Emery Books

  Emery Books (emerybooks.com)/an imprint of Eirini Press

  510 Long Hill Rd., Guilford, CT 06437

  Copyright © 2011 Richard Sam Meyers

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without prior written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and articles. All inquiries should be addressed Emery Books/Eirini Press, 510 Long Hill Rd, Guilford, CT 06437.

  Covers design by John Agostini, Stephen Sloan of Upon Animation, and Greg Spalenka. Book design by Denise L. Meyer.

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2011920922

  ISBN: 978-0-9799989-4-2 (epub: 978-0-9799989-5-9)

  I. Meyers, Richard, 1953-

  II. Title: Films of Fury: The Kung Fu Movie Book

  1. Moving-pictures—Plots, themes, etc.

  2. Hand-to-hand fighting, Oriental, in motion pictures

  3. Martial arts movies

  4. Kung Fu movies

  Photos reproduced courtesy of: Cannon Films, Circle Releasing Corp., Columbia Pictures, Sony, Tristar, Well Go USA, Magnet, Eternal Films, National General Films, New Line Cinema, New World Pictures, Ocean Shores Limited, Seasonal Films, Tai Seng Entertainment, Warner Brothers Inc, WW Entertainment, World Northal, Mike Stone, Golden Communications Company Limited.

  Bruce Lee is a registered trademark of Bruce Lee Enterprises, LLC. The Bruce Lee name, image, likeness, and all related indicia are intellectual property of Bruce Lee Enterprises, LLC. All rights reserved. www.brucelee.com.

  DEDICATION

  As ever, to my masters (Art, Vincent, Bill, Karen, Stephe, Rick, Don, Avi, Uncle, Feng-San),

  mentors (Jeff, Warren, Alice, Jim, Brian and Al),

  and friends (Steve, Don, Bill, Chris, Mike, Melissa and Kate).

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  The kindness of friends and associates has been invaluable during the past thirty years of study, starting with Amy Harlib, Bill Palmer, and Karen Palmer, whose research contributions helped fuel the original 1985 book Martial Arts Movies: From Bruce Lee to the Ninjas.

  Covers design by John Agostini, Stephen Sloan of Upon Animation, and Greg Spalenka.

  Great thanks, past, present, and future, also go to:

  Lou Israel and Zita Siegel of World Northal (a.k.a. WW Entertainment); Raymond Chow and Russell Cawthorne, of Golden Communications Ltd.; Jackie Chan, Willie Chan, and Solon So, of Jackie and Willie Productions; Sammo Hung and Bojon Productions; Tsui Hark and Nansun Shi, of Film Workshop; John Woo, Michele Yeoh, and Terence Chang; Peter Chow and Fannie Ng, at Peter Chow International; Curtis Wong, Sandra Siegel, and all the fine folks at Curtis F. Wong Enterprises; Helen Soo, Frank Djeng and Tai Seng Entertainment; Jackson Hung and Matthew Tse of Ocean Shores Video Ltd.; Jonathan Ross and Alan Marke of Channel X Ltd.; Miss Choi Suk-kuen of the Hong Kong International Film Festival; Rudy De Blasio and Rick Sullivan, of Theater Management Associates; Bill Connolly and Martial Arts Movie Associates; Pak Chan and Superior Oriental; Robert Tam and the Sun Sing Cinema; Ronald Lee and NYUE; James Veronico and Crash Cinema; A&E’s Biography; Alan Goldberg and ABC News Productions; Asian Cinevision, New Line Cinema; Patty Keung and Patrick W.L. Chow of Celestial Pictures; AnimEigo, Michael Stradford of Sony/Tristar; Rick Stelow and Alisa Grant at Drunken Master; Grady Hendrix and Paul Kazee of Subway Cinema; Mark Osbourne, John Stevenson, and DreamWorks SKW Animation; Andrew Heubner and Nickelodeon Studios; Eddie Ibrahim and Gary Sassaman of the San Diego Comic Con; Jason Ebner and Danielle Tokunaga of San Jose FanimeCon; Andrea Beasley Brown of MADCAP Theaters Phoenix AZ; Mark Setton, Tom Ward, and the University of Bridgeport Martial Arts Degree Program; Dave Cater and Inside Kung Fu magazine; Tai Chi Alchemy, Sedona AZ; Snow L. Chang and the Meiman Qigong Culture Center, Taipei, Taiwan; Shin Lin at the University of California at Irvine; Tom Coleman, Andrew Robinson, Andrew Corvey, and Lux Digital Pictures ; Fact-checker supreme Lana Zukowski; David Owens and the Japan Society; Merlin David and Samurai Video; Greg Yokoyama and Video Action; Renee Witterstaetter, Caroline Vie, Jean-Marc Toussaint, Larry Bensky, Seaton Chang, Rolanda Chu, David Chute, Fredric Dannen, F. J. DeSanto, Vincent Lyn, Tim Kwok, Alfred Cheung, Clyde Gentry III, Gere Ladue, Victor Lim, Kenn Scott, Gine Lui, Larry Hama, Linda Sampson, Joe Ragus, Mark Schreiber, Van Washington, Tom Weisser, Laurine White, Michael Avon Oeming, Jeff Yang, and Denise L. Meyer (not necessarily in that order).

  INTRODUCTION

  Third time’s the charm?

  Martial Arts Movies: From Bruce Lee to the Ninjas was published in 1985. It was updated in 2001 as Great Martial Arts Movies: From Bruce Lee to Jackie Chan and More. And now there’s this. So why a third volume on the same subject (fourth, if you count The Encyclopedia of Martial Arts Movies, to which I only contributed existing, previously-published, reviews)?

  Well, obviously, there are more martial arts movies now than there were in 2001 … but maybe not enough to warrant a whole new book. The real reason is two-fold. First, Lux Digital Pictures asked me to write a kung fu film documentary. Naturally, now that Films of Fury: The Kung Fu Movie Movie is near completion, a tie-in book version was karma kismet. But the more pressing, real, reason that I jumped at the chance to write this is that I know more now … and not just about movies, either.

  Kung fu is so potent that you need only know around five percent to teach it for the rest of your life. I knew the movies, sure, and I had studied martial arts since the late seventies, but it wasn’t until 2002 that I seriously started practicing Chinese kung fu. By sheer serendipity I met world heavyweight taichi push hands champion Stephen Watson, who set me on a road to semi-illumination with the greatest sifus I have ever known (“when the student is ready, the teacher will appear,” he told me).

  With each technique and form, every film I had seen took on deeper dimensions. There’s a reason “kung fu” translates as “hard work” or “concerted effort” rather than “martial arts.” Turns out that kung fu is, first and foremost, a supra-human method of self-improvement … with the ability to negate or terminate an attack as an organic side-effect.

  As I began to learn the internal, external, physical and mental components of kung fu, every cinematic sequence I viewed or reviewed changed, as if going from silent to sound, black and white to color, or 2D to 3D. I collected medals and trophies for a year or two, until tournament ennui set in. Then I got down to the serious business of reassessing everything I ever saw or did.

  Finally, in 2008, The Kung Fu Movie Movie came knocking, and with it, a chance to bring all my experiences and education together. As of this writing, I haven’t seen the final cut of the documentary, so I don’t know if it holds together. But this book is one hundred percent my baby, with all the flaws and favoritisms that entails.

  It’s unavoidable that this book will recycle some sections from my first two (or three) stabs at the subject, and, obviously, narrows their focus. Gone is the chapter on Japanese chambara/samurai/ninja films. My love for Zatoichi the Blind Swordsman, Kyoshiro Nemuri/Son of Black Mass, Lone Wolf and Cub/Baby Cart/Shogun Assassin, and Shinobi No Mono remains unabated, but now you don’t need forty pages to figure that out.

  Also, given this new book’s structure, a strictly chronological tale would be difficult. However, as you’ll notice that the timeline jumps back and forth a bit, especially at the beginnings of chapters, I’ve endeavored to create a decent through-line, which, as you keep reading, will hold you in good stead.

  Ideas will be fleshed out (hopefully), points will be made (and reiterated), and horizons may be br
oadened (or narrowed), as each chapter builds on the last, and, hopefully, vice versa. Veteran readers may also notice less emphasis on plot descriptions. They made sense back when few of these films were available, but now, thanks to the web, all may be watchable, so you can figure out most of the stories yourselves.

  Now for the names. A lot can be lost in the translation. Since this is my book, I’m writing the names and titles as I’ve come to know and love them. Although the “Liang” in Liu Chia-liang is equivalent to the “Ric” in “Ric Meyers,” I am not, as the Internet Movie Data Base does, going to refer to him as Chia-Liang Liu … not when I know him as Liu Chia-liang. That is also the Cantonese version of his name. His name to Mandarin speakers is Lau Kar-leung, but I know him best by his Cantonese name, so that’s the one I’m using.

  That brings up another point. In my previous books, for clarity’s sake, I eliminated the hyphens and capitalized everything (Liu Chia Liang, for example). But I think we’ve progressed enough that I can type the names as they originally were. If that leads to confusion — especially with the likes of Jacky Wu Jing, etc., I apologize. But the reason it’s not Jacky Wu-jing, is that Wu Jing is his name. “Jacky” is his Western name, which he got to choose and tack on himself. My book; my rules.

  Now for the dates. As much as I possibly can, I will list the date of the film’s first showing, in whatever country that showing happened to be. Although Jackie Chan’s Supercop premiered in America during 1996, I’ll be listing its origin as 1992, which is when Police Story 3: Supercop first showed up in Hong Kong.

  In any and every case, I’ll attempt to emulate my kung fu film idols: keep it moving and keep it entertaining. As one grasshopper to another (or, as my literary sifu referred to me, as one “pale piece of a pig’s ear” to another); let us carry on, with style.

  Ric Meyers

  December 2010

  PREFACE

  Now it’s time for some deep background. Hold onto this stuff, it’ll come in handy.

  First and foremost, Chinese kung fu is a combination of external martial applications and internal powering and/or self-healing applications, where internal energy (chi) and calm are always more powerful and effective than muscle power and malice.

  The following kung fu styles have developed over years, even centuries, and are constantly evolving—being fine-tuned and personalized to better suit their students’ sizes, shapes, lives and times.

  To list all styles would be tough, considering how many families and films create their own, but it’s always exciting to see sifus (Chinese teachers) and/or senseis (Japanese teachers) using different forms against each other, then adapting to the other’s style, and improving upon it in order to triumph.

  But remember, kung fu is not really a matter of win or lose, it’s a matter of learn or not learn. So saying, here are…

  THE TOP “TEN” KUNG FU FILM STYLES & STYLINGS

  “Animal” styles (Crane, Eagle, Leopard, Mantis, Monkey, Snake, Tiger, etc.): Created from extensive study of the creatures they are named for, these techniques adapt the way beasties fight into human terms.

  Baqua: The “eight diagram palm” technique, derived from Taoist precepts, and incorporating “Taoist circle walking” to create remarkable power.

  Chi Na: A gripping, hold-based technique, very roughly equivalent to Japanese judo, but with the added benefit of internal power strengthening each move.

  Choy Li Fut: A long-arm style with a strong power-and-balance-building stance. Stances are often overlooked, but are vitally important as literal power bases. With the correct stance you can harness the energy of everything around you.

  Dragon: A fearsome form that combines four Shaolin animal styles (crane, leopard, snake, and tiger) into a bone-pulverizing technique that is rarely seen in reality, let alone film (it’s usually replaced by the apparently invulnerable, most likely fictional, iron skin style). But it is discussed and feared.

  Drunken Style: A potent addition to any technique, it gives the impression of inebriation but helps the user be endlessly malleable and adaptable.

  Hsing-I: A technique that incorporates time-tested physical methods to gather, channel, and recharge internal power during battle.

  Hung Gar: A combination of tiger and crane styles, and one of the most visually powerful techniques.

  Phoenix Eye: An internally powered pinpoint technique, identified by the use of an extended foreknuckle. You’ll know it when you see it, and if you watch a lot of classic kung fu films, you’ll see it a lot.

  Taichi: One of the most sophisticated, subtle, and deceptive techniques, combining internal healing with devastatingly effective external power. Most learn only one-half of the art, robbing its literal translation, “balance,” of meaning.

  As I tell my students, if you only know half of what you should, you’ll always be half of what you could.

  Wing Chun: Created by a woman of the same name, it emphasizes simultaneous, up-close, defense and attack.

  Legendary Weapons: Swords (of many sizes, widths, and lengths), spears, axes, hammers, poles (aka staffs or “bo”), tridents, shields, three-section staff, and the chain whip (a linked series of blades).

  You’re now suitably armed and ready. Don’t worry about checking back here. I’ll remind you of these techniques, and more, in the coming pages.

  As always and ever, we still know that being a kung fu film fan can be a lonely vocation, so feel free to email with any questions or comments to [email protected], and check out www.ricmeyers.com for the latest and greatest.

  Enough ado. Let’s begin.

  Preface

  Picture identifications (clockwise from upper left):

  Kwan Tak-hing in Dreadnaught; The Shaolin Temple; Peking Opera; Kwan Tak-hing as Huang Fei-hong; Dat Mo; Kwan Tak-hing fights Li Hai-sheng in The Magnificent Butcher.

  This is all hearsay. Chinese history in general, and kung fu history in particular, is notoriously questionable. Since many (I daresay most) think of kung fu as a martial art, the contentiousness that dogs the question of “who, or what, is better,” extends to the system’s source and inspiration as well. Although the Chinese culture, arguably, created written history, as well as, unarguably, many other cultured pursuits, you’d think that the creation of kung fu would be well documented.

  You’d be right, and wrong. There’s a reason the yin-yang symbol is so identified with kung fu pursuits — because the “right” answer is usually a flowing mix of several answers. Just as in life, kung fu is a series of “ands” rather than “ors.” On the one hand, kung fu history is extremely well-documented … after the fact, by many whose intentions might not have been the most objective. On the other hand, kung fu creationism is full of fascinating, fun fables of wise masters and philosophic students.

  Ultimately, the ancient admonition of “learn mother nature, learn human nature, learn your own nature, and then you are truly ready to learn kung fu,” extends to the study of its origins as well. There are certain immutable truths in terms of these natures, and a strong, smart, serene, and steady, generations-long, study of how we move and why we act the way we do would naturally lead to a time-tested system of self-improvement, health, and knowledge … with the ability to consummately defend ourselves coming as an unavoidable side effect.

  Thankfully for this volume’s existence, China had such a generations-long era to create this study, and, once created, the inclination to develop it, and, perhaps, more importantly, personalize it. Not surprisingly, other countries and cultures also found much to appreciate in human/mother nature, but most of them seemed to decide to use it against others and/or to greedily better their positions, as opposed to improving themselves. Thus was martial arts born.

  However, “kung fu” does not translate as “martial arts.” The simplest, generally accepted, translation is “hard work.” A more ornate definition that I appreciate is just about the only thing the misbegotten Forbidden Kingdom (2008) got right. There, Jet Li’s “Silent Monk”
character states that kung fu is a “concerted effort toward a specific goal.”

  Each student then gets to decide: what is that specific goal? A few chose wisely. Seemingly most decided the goal was to defeat others. As the young Bruce Lee character says in Ip Man 2 (2010) when asked why he wanted to learn wing chun: “To beat up people I don’t fancy (he is told by the venerable title character to come back when he was older, and, hopefully, wiser).” So, with that ego-stroking decision as foundation — which acknowledged human nature without really challenging it — several industries were created: kung fu schools, and more pertinently to this endeavor, kung fu movies.

  “The problem with kung fu,” Fred Weintraub, producer of Enter the Dragon (1973) told me, “is that it is fantasy. Once someone shoots someone else, everybody understands it. That’s reality. But when somebody does fantastic martial arts, that’s fantasy. You never see that in life. You never see that on the news. What you see is people shot and run over. When you’re working in martial arts, you’re working in fantasy.”

  Things have changed in the decades since he made that statement, but it still has more than a kernel of truth for our technology-soaked world. To better understand kung fu, it’s helpful to better understand the country that created it. Considered the oldest cultured civilization, evidence of Chinese societies dates back to 7000 B.C. But their ancient period dated from around 2500 B.C. to about 200 B.C., during which time they grew accustomed to invasions of every kind, not to mention revolutions, insurrections, intrigue, and war. Even then, there were already great martial legends: Fu Hsi, the Hunter; Shen Nung, the Farmer; and Huang Ti, bringer of fire and music. Already Chinese history was full of complexities, complications, and conflicts.

  Meanwhile, however, toiling almost unnoticed by the powers that be, there were family and village elders who were putting their life-long studies of mother nature and human nature to increasingly good use. Somewhere, someone was discovering that if he, or she, put a finger, or needle, on one spot it could cause personality-changing pain. But if he, or she, put that finger, or needle, just a hair’s breath to one side or another, it could ease pain.