Sammo Hung is fresh off a masterclass at the Tokyo International Film Festival and nobody is totally calm. He’s being fanned like royalty and subjected to photo after photo. Backstage I meet two filmmakers – young, ambitious creators of small-scale romantic dramas – who refer to him in adoring, hushed tones. Friends who I text about my interview express envy I’ve met a personal idol. This is a man who attracts all walks, and he seems surprised when, at the end of our conversation, I don’t ask for a picture of my own.
Remove Sammo Hung from the equation and action cinema as we know it doesn’t exist. His onscreen debut came alongside Jackie Chan’s own, 62 years ago, and he has since collaborated with Chan as director and co-star countless times. He worked with Bruce Lee on both the genre tenet Enter the Dragon (1973) and notorious Game of Death (1978). He has directed the likes of Michelle Yeoh, Maggie Cheung, Tony Leung and Andy Lau across 30-some features, one of which (1987’s Eastern Condors) just received a 4K release from Criterion. He was Wong Kar Wai’s stunt coordinator when time came to explore the wuxia genre in Ashes of Time (1994), and Tsui Hark’s pick when the director made a bold jump to English-language filmmaking with Double Team (1997). He has also starred in more films than seems plausible, including 2024’s beloved Twilight of the Warriors: Walled In.
Paired with Tokyo’s masterclass came a screening of My Beloved Bodyguard (2016), the most recent film Hung’s directed. It was also his first in 19 years but is now nearly a decade old. At 72, he’d receive no admonition for retiring and resting on the laurels of his legacy. Yet talking to him makes clear the passion has not subsided. The plans are ongoing.
As a filmmaker best-known for working in Hong Kong, what about this lifetime achievement award is meaningful coming from a Japanese festival? Do you see a special relationship between the Hong Kong and Japanese industries, especially as far as making action films?
First of all, my view of Hong Kong and Japanese cinema is that we’re both trying our best to make the best art in cinema. So we do have a lot of connection. I’ve always been really interested in Japanese films; I watch a lot of them. About 30 years ago, J-drama was really, really big in Hong Kong – it was part of our culture, too, to watch Japanese cinema.
Part of your films’ endurance is coming from a time and place where the films were more practical, physical, material. But I wonder if, watching action films today, there’s anything being done that especially impresses you or that you envy.
In a way I feel then is then, now is now. And there’s just no going back. An example: when I was a one-year-old kid, even if I wanted to become 50 years old I’d have to wait. And when you become 50 years old you can’t go back. This is the same in my view about film technology: of course it’s going to keep advancing with time and you never know what’s going to come next. When we were making films in our day, it required a lot of physical effort. It was a lot of pain. We risked our lives, but we really had no choice. There’s no regrets because everyone in the industry did their best.
Do you think your films were better for the pain?
We really just can’t compare the filmmaking environment in those days and now. I just gave my all because I live for myself. I don’t live for other people or other people’s demands. I just do the best for myself.
What’s the most difficult injury you suffered?
I get injured a lot – practically all the time with every shoot – but the worst one I had was on the shoulder when I was shooting a film in Canada, Millionaires Express (1986). My arm had to be put in a set and I had to let it rest for over six months. It was really, really bad.
I think your skills as a dramatic performer have long been undervalued. Are there any performances you consider especially strong outside the action realm?
I’ve done so many roles in my career now that the only thing I still haven’t done are erotic films. [Laughs] I really love doing films that let me explore dramatic characters and give me the bandwidth to show my acting chops. But I don’t get a lot of offers for those kinds of films.
Do you have a different relationship with films you directed, films you just starred in, ones you only wrote, those you just produced?
Naturally, if you’re the director you have to care a lot more because you’re in charge of everything. You have to care about every stage of the filmmaking. But if you’re only an actor, it’s easier – I don’t have to care so much about what’s happening outside of what I’m doing.
Who do you consider the greatest performer you’ve worked with – either as a director, co-star or choreographer – and what made them the greatest?
The first one is King Hu. Then it’s a Korean director who worked in a lot of Hong Kong films – his most famous film, I think, is Five Fingers of Death (1972). His name is Jeong Chang-hwa. More recently it’s Tsui Hark. I’ll explain one-by-one what I see in them.
For King Hu: I was still a kid when I started working with him. He taught everyone on the set with a lot of patience. He was really good at teaching us how to move around, when they were shooting, to get in the best positions. He also taught me how to develop character arcs, which is very useful as a director and writer. For Jeong Chang-hwa: he has this personal knack of using camera angles. He had his own film language. It was really exciting. I’d never seen it before. For Tsui Hark: he really had this sense of the world of martial arts and martial heroes. He could really present the details onscreen and capture the spirit of Chinese martial arts and swordplay. Like in A Chinese Ghost Story (1987). He also had really great art direction – a real sense of aesthetics – when he’s recreating the past in his movies.
Because your filmography is so vast, certain films in America are really well-known and beloved: Wheels on Meals (1984), Pedicab Driver (1989), Eastern Condors. But are there any films you’ve directed that are due for rediscovery, or were undervalued in their time?
There’s a lot of films I like that I’ve made in the past, but really I want to focus on the future. I’m still making films and I’ve recently, also, starred in films, and I really wish the audiences in other countries – especially the younger audiences – would discover all my works: my recent works, my future works. I’m still hoping to make a lot of great films.
Art of Action plays in cinemas across the UK and online on BFI Player from October to December 2024.
