Chapter 00100: The World's Best Martial Arts Director
# The World's Best Martial Arts Director
Chapter 100
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 100: The World's Best Martial Arts Director
Early summer, Beijing.
The nude mural at the Capital Airport had been covered up for several years, and it would remain so until the Asian Games were held in Beijing.
The ideological trends of the 1980s were characterized by constant shifts, swinging left and right, leading to an environment that alternated between relaxation and tightening.
In a car heading from the airport to the city, brothers Yuen Woo-ping and Yuen Cheung-yan were curiously taking in everything around them.
Both were lean and wiry, with strikingly ancient-looking features and unusually large eyes.
Yuen Cheung-yan would later play an old woman in The Miracle Fighters, a role that Stephen Chow would later reference in Forbidden City Cop.
He was also the beggar selling martial arts manuals in Kung Fu Hustle.
"Is this your first time back in Beijing?"
"Yes, our father left for Hong Kong in 1937 and never returned. We were all born in the south."
"Do you know where your old family home is? You could go and take a look."
The question came from a staff member of the Great Wall Film Company who was accompanying them.
The brothers exchanged a glance, tempted by the idea, but shook their heads.
"Our father never mentioned it. He only said that the family was poor, and the times were chaotic. He joined a Peking opera troupe just to make a living."
"Those were indeed chaotic times, but things are better now. It's a new era with new opportunities. You should explore a bit."
The brothers smiled politely, still feeling somewhat out of place.
After all, this was Beijing, and Hong Kongers had complex feelings about the capital.
Their journey north had started in Shenzhen, then Guangzhou, and finally Beijing.
They had traveled incognito, using fake names, not wanting to draw attention.
They weren't entirely enthusiastic about the trip, but since they were already here, they decided to make the best of it.
At that time, Hong Kong entertainers visiting the mainland often did so in secret.
For instance, when Li Han-hsiang was preparing to film The Burning of the Imperial Palace and Reign Behind a Curtain, he had also come north covertly, only to be exposed by the Hong Kong media.
Taiwan, of course, imposed a ban, but such bans were selective.
Li Han-hsiang, being a renowned director, didn't care and continued to enjoy a lavish lifestyle in Taiwan in his later years.
"We've arranged for you to stay at a hotel that specifically accommodates compatriots from Hong Kong and Macau. You'll stay there during the day and work at the Beijing Film Studio. If we need to shoot on location, I'll accompany you, and we'll make the necessary arrangements."
"Alright, we're fine with that."
As they spoke, the car arrived at the Beijing Film Studio.
The Great Wall staff led the brothers upstairs to the director's office.
The brothers were nervous.
They had heard that the Beijing Film Studio was a high-level institution, though they didn't fully understand what that meant.
They just knew that the director was a big shot who could even get an audience with the top leaders.
Hong Kong's entertainment industry was rooted in the grassroots, with a strong sense of the "jianghu" (martial world) ethos.
Coming to the mainland meant facing a whole new set of bureaucratic rules.
"Knock, knock, knock!"
"Come in!"
They pushed the door open and entered the room.
Yuen Woo-ping quickly scanned the room.
An elderly man sat behind the desk, exuding authority—he must be the director.
On the sofa sat a middle-aged man with no distinctive features, and next to him was a young man.
The young man was munching on an imported chocolate bar, the wrapper adorned with large English letters.
Yuen Woo-ping felt a stark contrast.
What was going on here?
"Mr. Yuen Woo-ping! Mr. Yuen Cheung-yan!"
Wang Yang, the host, greeted them warmly, addressing them as "Mr." and shaking their hands.
"We've been looking forward to your arrival. It's great to finally meet you."
"You're too kind. We've been eager to come and see for ourselves."
"Ah, your Mandarin is quite good!"
"Our father was from Beijing, so we learned the Beijing dialect from a young age. Although we usually speak Cantonese, we've never forgotten our roots."
"That's good. I was worried about communication issues!"
The Yuen brothers, along with the Seven Little Fortunes and Lam Ching-ying, all spoke Mandarin well because their masters were involved in Peking opera.
Especially the Seven Little Fortunes—if their master caught anyone speaking Cantonese during their childhood training, they'd get a slap across the face.
So, those Hong Kong stars who came to the mainland to make a living but refused to improve their Mandarin over the years were really just asking for a slap.
And don't talk about language habits.
Back then, almost every Hong Kong star had been to Taiwan for promotions, and of course, they spoke Mandarin there, enthusiastically at that.
None of them complained.
So why did they complain when they came to the mainland?
They were just asking for a slap.
"This is Li Wenhua, the director of Tai Chi, and this is Chen Qi, the screenwriter!"
"Chen Qi?"
The brothers couldn't help but ignore Li Wenhua and turn their attention to the young man.
Yuen Cheung-yan was particularly surprised.
"You're the Chen Qi who wrote The Miracle Fighters?"
"That would be me. I received your support (referring to the script fees). I'm honored."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty."
"Wow!"
The brothers exchanged a glance, and Yuen Woo-ping gave a thumbs-up, genuinely impressed.
"Remarkable!"
Hong Kong was a society obsessed with money and fame, and everyone was in a rush to succeed.
Those who achieved fame overnight or accomplished great things at a young age were especially admired.
Chen Qi fit that description perfectly.
After a brief discussion about Tai Chi, the brothers, tired from their journey, headed to the hotel.
Once they left, Wang Yang's smile faded.
"Even though they've voluntarily lowered their salaries, staying at the hotel every day is still an expense. You should film the action scenes first, then the dialogue scenes."
"We're already being frugal. We didn't even ask for stuntmen. Otherwise, they could have brought a dozen people, and we'd have to accommodate all of them."
"What do stuntmen do?" Li Wenhua asked.
"They handle props, act as extras, and mainly serve as doubles. Some actions are too dangerous or beyond the actors' abilities, so stuntmen step in."
"Isn't that unprofessional? We would never do that. Ji Chunhua and his crew are itching to prove themselves."
Li Wenhua didn't understand.
It was a matter of differing philosophies, and Chen Qi didn't see the point in arguing.
There was no value in trying to convince him, and they did need to save money.
It just meant that Ji Chunhua and his team would have to do the stunts themselves.
It's all about perspective.
Ji Chunhua earned one yuan a day and had to give his all for Tai Chi.
Of course, Chen Qi thought he was working hard.
But in the future, when people were earning hundreds of thousands or even millions, their hard work was expected!
Chen Qi flipped through the storyboard script.
The opening scenes included Yang Yuqian's duel, being stopped at Chenjiagou, fighting Chen Shaojie, battling enemies, and learning from Chen Zhengying—over 20 fight scenes in total.
The three of them discussed and decided to film a few simple action scenes first to get everyone acclimated, then move on to the final tower-climbing scene.
Once the tower scene was done, the rest would be a breeze.
As they left the office, Li Wenhua looked worried.
"Xiao Chen, we've gone to so much trouble to bring these Hong Kong people here. Are they really up to it? They don't look particularly special—thin and small, not like martial artists."
"Martial arts directors don't have to be masters themselves. It's a job that requires brains. Don't worry, there's no one more suitable."
Chen Qi wasn't concerned at all.
Yuen Woo-ping was famously versatile, with an incredibly high adaptability.
Whether it was period dramas or modern films, martial arts or sci-fi, mainland, Hong Kong, or Hollywood—as long as the director had a vision, he could make it happen.
Moreover, he tailored the action to the actors' abilities.
Most importantly, he didn't meddle or try to direct the director.
He just did his job, making him the epitome of a professional.
Chen Qi was excited.
In 1980, with such a talented group of people gathered together, what kind of movie could they create?
(End of chapter.)