Beyond ‘The Chinese Connection”: Contemporary Afro-Asian Cultural Production interrogates cross-cultural dynamics within a transnational context. As a result of such films as Enter the Dragon (1973), The Chinese Connection (1972) and The Big Boss (1971), Bruce Lee emerges as both a cross-cultural hero and global cultural icon who resonates with the experiences of African American, Asian American and Hong Kong youth, experiences impacted by the rise of a global economy in the 1970s. Drawing on theories of cosmopolitanism and hybridity, I argue that Lee’s films prefigure themes that reflect cross-cultural negotiations with global culture for post-1990 Afro-Asian cultural production. Engaging in global culture in a variety of ways, such cultural production includes novels such as Frank Chin’s Gunga Din Highway (1999), Ishmael Reed’s Japanese By Spring (1992), and Paul Beatty’s White Boy Shuffle (1996); films such asRush Hour 2 (2001), Unleashed (2005), The Matrix trilogy (1999-2003) and the Japanese anime series, Samurai Champloo (2004). (University of Mississippi Press, 2013)
This week saw the release of first images and the official trailer of RZA’s long-awaited homage to kung-fu film, Man With the Iron Fists. Not only does the film represent a new chapter in the long love-affair between African Americans and Asian culture, it reminds us how long that love affair has been.
I think some people are anticipating this more than others. In one online community, reaction was distinctly muted. Some predict that this is going to be a crappy movie. We all know that if we could really determine if a film was crappy just from an image or a trailer, most of us would have fuller wallets. Bad films can have talented people attached to them; good films can get marred by the skewed vision of a few.
I’m dismayed by such a reaction, given the trajectory of the Hong Kong film industry, a film industry that owes quite a lot to kung fu films and wuxia, two genres that are routinely characterized as “low culture.” However, the elite directors over which critics fawn routinely cite their work in and the influence of those two genres. Poshek Fu notes: “As Ang Lee recently revealed, the shaping influences of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon were the numerous Shaw Brothers costume dramas and musicals he watched as he was growing up in Taiwan in the 1950s and 1960s” (1). Let’s not forget where those Hong Kong Bruce Lee films came from.
Not only did some of the most significant Hong Kong film directors get their start in kung fu films at the studios of Golden Harvest and the Shaw Brothers, they did so in films most of us have never seen. Let’s face it: many of these films are nowhere near Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon material. But the allowed today’s talent to hone their craft, and created significant followings around the world.
One of the most significant followings is among African Americans in the United States. Sundiata Keita Cha-Jua notes that in contrast to the American audience for action film, presumed to be “young, white, working-class males,” “the black martial arts audience. . . complicates, if not transcends, the class, gender and generational limitations of action films’ traditional spectators. A broader cross-section of the black community is attracted to this film genre” (200).
Cha-Jua refers to film scholar David Desser’s explanation for the appeal: “He advances two interconnected arguments: First, besides blaxploitation, kung fu films were the only films with nonwhite heroes and heroines; second, they concerned an ‘underdog of color, often fighting against the colonialist enemies, white culture, or the Japanese'” (200).
So we can’t be surprised at the Afro-Asian connection in kung fu films. What may be surprising is what RZA has done with Man with the Iron Fists. I remember reading when he went to China to film. Not the place you expect to see a black man. Filming a movie. A kung fu movie. If you look at the cast, you see all kinds of folk involved; Russell Crowe, Lucy Liu, and Quentin Tarantino. If nothing else, this is a new chapter in that it represents, to a certain degree, African Americans articulating their own response to Asian popular culture in film.
Will this film be just another example of what some see as the rampant commercialization and low quality of contemporary Hong Kong film? Maybe. Or maybe it will take all the stuff you love about Saturday afternoon kung fu and raise to a new, ridiculously crazy level. Is it going to push some buttons about race, gender, violence and appropriation? Sure will! Have you seen the trailer?
The poster and trailer invite commentary, but let’s not pretend that any of this is new and, more importantly, not part of the legacy of kung fu films. C’mon, we all know what we are here for.
Fu, Poshek. “Introduction: The Shaw Brothers Diasporic Cinema,” China Forever: The Shaw Brothers and Diasporic Cinema (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2008). 1-26.
Cha-Jua, Sundiata Keita. “Black Audiences, Blaxploitation and Kung Fu Films, and challenges to White Celluloid Masculinity,” China Forever: The Shaw Brothers and Diasporic Cinema (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2008). 199-223.
I recently finished Young Warriors (aka Young Warriors of the Yang Clan), and it epitomizes what I like about wuxia dramas. Everyone fights! This is the story of the fabulous Yang family, whose sons served the kingdom and eventually gave their lives, even when the fathead king made really bad decisions. This legendary family is known for their loyalty, and apparently have been immortalized in wuxia drama before, but this version focuses on their lives before the questionable leadership of the king takes them all down.
Of course the sons are all upright, righteous guys who help the weak and support the people. I know we are supposed to be in awe of the father and the seven brothers, but really, the mother, wives and girlfriends steal the show (they all dress amazingly well also!). Mama Yang is no joke! She can literally beat her sons down if she had to. But, for the most part, she doesn’t have to. She raised them right. What I find interesting is that she is also very maternal, and doesn’t lose her femininity in the process. It’s an interesting combination. Even when they get into trouble with the king, she’s willing to stand up for them. My favorite part is when the ‘lost son’ finds his way home, thinking he’s going to extract some revenge on his parents while honoring them at the same time? So he’s antisocial to both, but saves the father from some assasination attempt. He goes around talking smack to the mother, the other brothers don’t appreciate that. Then she snaps out of it and basically tells him: you have fulfilled your filial duty to your father, but not to me. He shapes up quick, fast and in a hurry. Later, the ladies don their own armor. How cool is that! And where can I get mine?
The gender dynamics are interesting in other ways as well. When the inevitable tragedy hits the family, and one of the sons, Wu Lang (I’m calling you out!), just can’t handle it, and decides he’s going to ignore his wife and become a monk. While I have to say I’ve seen series often consign women to this fate, it was interesting to see it done to a man. Wu Lang, pull it together!
This is one of my favorites, and will definitely be included in my not-even-started projects on women in wuxia and the kung fu couple.