




SHAW BROS. RETURNING ACTION TO HONG KONG
by Anthony Kuhn
HONG KONG -- At the center of an ambitious bid to revitalize
one of Asia's great movie capitals, the venerable Shaw Bros.
Studios is emerging from two decades of dormancy to build
Hong Kong's largest movie studio.
Coupled with the release on video this year of classic
Shaw Bros. films - long awaited by a loyal cult following
- the studio's reemergence could help put in perspective
Hong Kong cinema's popularity and influence in Hollywood.
Whether the ventures will be successful financially or
herald the revival of Hong Kong's long-depressed film
industry remains to be seen. The local cinema, which
launched Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan to international
stardom, has succumbed to competition from pirated video
and television, and theatrical releases here often are
unprofitable. The expanding media empire of Run Run Shaw,
the firm's 94-year-old patriarch, will require new content,
especially new movies.
Shaw Bros. and its sister company, TVB, Hong Kong's
largest terrestrial television broadcaster, recently won one
of five potentially lucrative government licenses to launch
pay-TV services in this former British colony. They already
have cable and satellite-TV systems aimed at Chinese-language
communities in Asia, Europe and North America.
The new Movie City, being built at Tseung Kwan O on the
eastern end of the Kowloon Peninsula, is expected to cost
more than $100 million and include more than 450,000 square
feet of state-of-the-art sound stages, post-production
facilities and screening rooms.
Shaw Bros. will hold a 35% share in the project, with
a consortium of investors holding the rest. After completing
the facility in 2005, Shaw Bros. plans to release about 20
new films a year.
During its 1960s and '70s heyday, Shaw Bros. had the
largest privately owned movie studio in the world, churning
out 40 movies annually. Some directors made three or four
films a year.
The tight production deadlines and budgets and
experienced crews of Hong Kong's film industry helped it to
rank second to Hollywood in film exports. The box-office
take of American movies in Hong Kong cinemas did not surpass
that of local films until 1997.
The Shaw Bros. organization traces its roots to Shanghai
in the 1920s, when Runje, Runme and Run Run Shaw, sons of a
wealthy textile merchant, began producing silent movies
through their Unique Film Productions Co.
They later moved their operations to Singapore. By the
late 1930s, they had a circuit of more than 100 cinemas
across Southeast Asia, as well as several amusement parks
and dance halls.
The new Movie City will not be far from Movie Town,
Shaw Bros.' home. Movie Town represented Shaw Bros.' effort
during its golden years to match Hollywood production
standards. At the time, the facility was the best in Asia,
and a glossy studio look, with ancient Chinese towns and
ornate courtroom settings, became a hallmark of Shaw Bros.
films.
Shaw Bros. needs to make new movies in part because
last year it sold a film library of some 800 movies - the
world's largest Chinese-language film collection - to the
Malaysian media conglomerate Usaha Tegas Sdn. Bhd., also
known as UTSB.
Celestial Pictures, UTSB's Hong Kong subsidiary, is
busy restoring original prints, brightening faded colors
and filling in broken frames in preparation for their
release this summer on DVD and other video formats.
Celestial is negotiating with potential video distributors.
UTSB plans to use the library as the foundation of a
Chinese-language movie channel, to be distributed to Chinese
communities worldwide. The channel plans to begin operations
this year.
Celestial plans to issue 20 remastered movies a month,
"enough for a Shaw Bros. rack" in video stores, said Shirley
Chung, Celestial's corporate affairs general manager. This
would include box sets for Shaw's various genres, including
historical dramas, ghost stories, swordplay epics and erotic
films.
"The Shaw Bros. library is so rich in genre, you could
study it for ages," Chung said.
Watching the old Shaw Bros. films is bound to prompt
comparisons with movies being made in Hollywood by Hong Kong
directors and actors, many of whom got their start at Shaw
Bros. studios.
The foremost example probably is veteran action-film
director John Woo, whose themes of heroism and loyalty and
carefully composed action shots owe much to Chang Cheh, his
mentor. Chang directed more than 60 martial arts films for
Shaw Bros. during its golden era, including "The One-Armed
Swordsman" in 1967 and "Five Deadly Venoms" in 1978.
Above all, a retrospective look at Shaw Bros. "old
school" martial arts films shows off one of Hong Kong's
greatest strengths: synthesizing the cultures of East and
West.
During the 1960s and '70s, Run Run Shaw was determined
to create a new style of martial arts movie. He wanted his
"martial arts century" to deliver more realistic action and
psychological detail than earlier Chinese films, which
reflected the influences of Peking opera in their action and
character portrayal.
Shaw advised his directors on which new foreign films
to watch for ideas. Chang, for example, was quick to absorb
the techniques and styles of such directors as Sam Peckinpah
and Akira Kurosawa.
One of Chang's martial arts choreographers, Lau
Kar-Leung, went on to direct some of Shaw's most popular
films, including the 1978 cult favorite "36th Chamber of
Shaolin."
These directors, said film scholar David Bordwell at
the University of Wisconsin-Madison, created a film language
that "communicated the qualities of grace and force so
effectively that you almost feel the kinetic impact, not
just from the martial arts moves but also through the
framing and cutting" of the film.
Without the budgets or technology for flashy special
effects, the Shaw films relied on their actors' physical
prowess and directors' resourceful camera work and hiding
of wires and trampolines.
"When you look at the old pictures, you have to wonder
how we made them, without computers or anything," said
Lawrence Wong, director of film production and a veteran of
numerous Shaw Bros. classics.
Fight scenes in "old school" kung fu movies typically
used long, carefully composed shots, giving a clear view of
the martial arts techniques, with their staccato rhythm of
explosive punches, kicks and blocks.
Today, Bordwell said, many Hollywood directors "will
hire a Hong Kong choreographer, but then shoot and cut the
scene in a way that's just visual gibberish - when the Hong
Kong filmmakers come over to America, mostly I think their
work is not as interesting, partly because of those shooting
routines."
Also lacking in the current Hong Kong-influenced cinema
are traditions of lore and literature, on which the Shaw
Bros. movies drew. Although exotic and unfamiliar to Western
audiences, the references are well known to Chinese viewers.
These sources include epic novels such as "Outlaws of
the Marsh," the classic sleuthing tales of Judge Bao and the
martial arts dramas of modern author Louis Cha. They also
drew on history, from the Shaolin Temple and anti-Manchu
secret societies to the Boxer Rebellion of 1900.
Chinese viewers also quickly recognize the codes of
loyalty and honor among fighters of the "martial forest," as
well as the Taoist philosophy that the superior warrior wins
without fighting, defusing conflicts without having to
unleash his mastery of martial technique.
Although the use by many martial arts films of these
cultural and ethical contexts was sometimes exploitative -
an excuse for bloody combat - it also arguably is a
redeeming feature amid otherwise gratuitous violence.
U.S. movies that use martial arts choreography contain
little or no reference to discipline, humility or other
aspects of the "martial virtues" or the hard work needed to
build martial skills. Characters in American films just
"know kung fu," as Keanu Reeves discovers after he has the
skills programmed into him in "The Matrix."
This cultural disconnect, aggravated by the hilariously
bad dubbing endemic to the genre, contributed to martial arts
movies' reputation among mainstream foreign audiences as
little more than gore and kitsch-in other words, cult fare.
The cult status, Bordwell said, was reinforced by
distribution patterns. During the 1970s, the movies played
mostly at inner-city theaters and other down-market venues
under the radar of mass audiences and critics,
cross-fertilizing other genres and subcultures, from
"blaxploitation" and horror films to rap and reggae music.
LA Times, March 18, 2002, © Los Angeles Times