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Sunday, February 23, 2020

THE THREE AMIGOS [281 a 286]


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THE THREE AMIGOS


While Winners and Sinners was rocketing to the top of the box office charts, I’d been working diligently with Edward Tang, my screenwriter, on ideas for my next project. 

Edward had been assigned to me by Leonard when I’d first signed on with Golden Harvest, and the partnership had just felt right from the start. Since then, Edward has scripted nearly all of my films; no other writer I’ve ever worked with has had his amazing ability to take my stray thoughts or suggestions and spin them into full-fledged cinematic epics. 

He’d been as upset as I was when Dragon Lord failed. However, while I’d been sulking at home, Edward had spent his time watching other movies, especially American blockbusters, trying to find fresh inspiration. 

The film that finally excited him enough to get back to work was Raiders of the Lost Ark, Steven Spielberg’s blockbuster homage to Hollywood’s action history. 

Eager to do something similar—a period piece full of guns and goons and swashbuckling stunts—Edward came to me with a story he called Pirate Patrol, in which I’d play a turn-of-the-century Hong Kong coast guard captain forced to work as a land cop after buccaneers destroy my fleet. Despite the disapproval of the by-the-books chief of police, I manage to unravel a conspiracy, discover the secret location of the pirate hideout, and take care of the pirates once and for all. 

I liked the idea. The script was set in a more modern era than any of my previous films, so the look of the movie would be unique—like a classic Hollywood film, only with a Chinese cast and a Hong Kong setting. 

I think I mentioned earlier that I’ve always loved Hollywood’s black-and-white silent classics—the comedies of Keaton and Lloyd and Chaplin that, even after decades, continue to make people smile, scream, and laugh. The early silent greats were comic pioneers, setting a gold standard in screen humor for everyone else who’s followed since. 

What people forget sometimes is that they were also, in some ways, the first action heroes. Without special effects and without stunt doubles,

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they did amazing things, falling and flying, climbing and tumbling, using their bodies to make miracles on screen. 

I’d gotten hooked on the old silents because much of the story was told physically, which meant that, despite my limited English, their antics were as funny to me as they must have been to their original audiences. Maybe funnier, because I understood what it took to make them happen.
Well, Edward’s story seemed like a perfect opportunity to bring the comic sensibility of the old Hollywood silents to Hong Kong cinema. In late-night brainstorming sessions, we worked to add sequences that would celebrate the great stunts of silent comedy—like Harold Lloyd’s high-altitude tango with a clock tower from Safety Last, and Buster Keaton’s intricately choreographed chase sequences. 

Actually, I’d already included an homage to Keaton in Dragon Lord, with a scene where a large ornamental facade collapses onto me and I survive being crushed because I’m standing in the exact space where an opening in the facade exists. My inspiration was Keaton’s Steamboat Bill, Jr., in which he misses being crushed by the falling wall of his house because he happens to be standing in the doorway. (I did an even bigger version of this stunt later in the sequel to Pirate Patrol—but that’s getting ahead of myself.) But that was an exception; in Pirate Patrol, the action style of the silent classics would be the rule. 

For our ambitious ideas to work, the film’s other principal roles—a straitlaced police officer and a local con man—had to be played by actors who understood action in the same way I did, martial artists who could speak the language of my choreography with perfect fluency. 

Deciding who to cast was hardly a problem. I’d known from the very beginning that there was one thing that would make this movie complete.

Well, two things, really.

Or, actually, two people:

My Big Brother Samo and my Little Brother Yuen Biao. 


“To old times,” said Samo, raising a bottle of beer in a toast to me and Yuen Biao.

It was the final day of production, and after we’d wrapped, he and Yuen Biao and I had celebrated by going back to the same bar where we’d spent so many evenings back in our stuntman days. The bar was the site of countless rounds of beer and games of pool, and even years after we’d gone on to bigger things, it still felt like home.

“And old friends,” I added, returning Samo’s toast.

Yuen Biao made a difficult shot on the billiards table and crowed as the ball dropped. “We should come back here more often,” he said. “Best table in town.”

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There were a lot of things we should do more often, I realized. Working with my brothers had been the best experience in my film career so far. Our different personalities balanced one another out and brought a special warmth to our on-screen characters. And their martial arts skills complemented mine perfectly—Yuen Biao the agile acrobat, Samo the strong and surprisingly nimble brawler. When we worked out fight scenes, we could almost read one another’s minds, we knew one another so well. Of course, we had our differences: Samo was Biggest Brother, and he always demanded respect from us. “Your voice may be loud, Jackie,” he’d say, “but my voice is louder.” I knew that secretly, and sometimes not so secretly, he resented the fact that I’d become a big star. That alone meant that we couldn’t work as a trio forever; they needed their space, to make careers and identities beyond being “Jackie Chan’s brothers.”

But still, I knew that as a team, we were stronger and better than any of us were alone. And for as long as it could last, I wanted us to stick together. 

I was right about how good we were as a team. 

Pirate Patrol, which was eventually released as Project A, was a huge success on every level. It was critically acclaimed. It made tons of money at the box office. And in many ways, it was a groundbreaking film in martial arts cinema: it showed that it was possible to make period films that didn’t feature the Shaolin Temple or wandering warriors, while keeping the dynamic fight sequences and thrilling stunts that give kung fu movies their appeal. 

I think that a lot of the success of Project A was a result of the three of us working as one. On the other hand, Project A was also the first film in which I did something that has since become my signature:

The really, really, really dangerous stunt.

The super stunt has become the thing that makes a Jackie Chan movie unique. People come to see my films in part because they expect a fast-paced and funny experience. But the truth is, lots of films are exciting and hilarious. A Jackie Chan movie has something else: the thrill of high risk. 

No blue screens and computer special effects. 

No stunt doubles. 

Real action. Real danger. And sometimes, real and terrible injury. 

In shooting my stunts, I’ve hurt myself in hundreds of ways and nearly died dozens of times. People have called me crazy, and maybe they’re right, because you need to be a little crazy to do the things I do. Which isn’t to say that I don’t know the meaning of the word fear. I’m terrified

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every time I have to put my body on the line, but somehow, I still manage to do it anyway. 

The big stunt in Project A was a sequence in which, after a wild chase through back alleys and then up a flagpole, I leap to the top of a clock tower. From there, I drop from the face of the clock to the earth, more than fifty feet down. 

We didn’t have any special technology to do the stunt. It would simply have to be done, by a real live human being, and I remembered the words of the stunt coordinator, long ago, who’d told me not to make a stuntman do anything that I wasn’t willing to do myself. The chase ended with me on top of the tower; at the end of the scene, I had to be at the bottom. There was only one way to get from the top of the tower to the bottom, and that was for me to fall. 

To prevent me from smashing into the ground and bursting like a watermelon, there was a series of cloth awnings, which I’d hit and rip through one by one—hopefully slowing the speed of my drop and making it nonfatal. 

“Are you sure this is even possible, Jackie?” Yuen Biao had asked me, looking at me like I was some kind of idiot for even suggesting the stunt. 

“Uh, sure,” I said. “No problem. We’ll just test it first.” 

My stuntmen were not eager to try the fall themselves, and so we worked out a compromise: a bag of dirt was dropped from the tower, through the awnings, and to the ground. 

The first time we did it, the bag exploded when it everywhere. 

“Not good,” said my head stuntman, shrugging. 

That was an understatement. We tightened the awnings and tried it again. This time, the bag survived the fall.

Maybe I would, too. 

So the next morning, I climbed to the top of the tower, and a stuntman helped me out onto the clock face, where I dangled from one of the hands of the clock, hanging out in space as the cameras rolled. Minutes went by, the metal of the clock hand cutting into my palms. And then, finally, I shouted for the stuntman to pull me back inside. 

I kept on imagining the exploding bag of dirt and thinking, That could be me! 

I know that the movie posters all say that I have “no fear,” but that’s just marketing. Anyone who really thinks I’m not scared out of my wits when I’m about to do one of these stunts is nuttier than I am. 

The next day, I tried again. And again I let myself get pulled back in. And again. And again. And again. For six days, every morning began the

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same way, with me climbing up to the top of the tower, dangling for a few minutes, and then bailing out. 

“This is ridiculous,” I said finally, on the seventh day. 
“I told you that a long time ago,” said Samo, who by now was thoroughly tired of watching me not do the stunt. Though I was the film’s director, Samo was far more experienced than I was, and throughout the shoot he helped me make decisions on where to place cameras and how to frame shots. “Let’s just cut the stunt and move on.” 

I waved him off. “That’s not what I’m saying,” I snapped. “The stunt is good. I’m the one that’s bad. No more excuses; today I’ll do it for real.” 

This time, I told the stuntman to leave as soon as I was out hanging on the clock hand. There was no choice for me now; without someone to help me back into the tower, the only way for me to get down was to let go and fall. 

And I did. 

Free fall. 

The rip of fabric as I hit the first awning, and then the next, and then finally, the hard-packed dirt, rolling to muffle the impact as much as possible. 

I’d survived, even though I’d landed hard on my neck. After a little ice was placed on my injury, I told the crew to set the stunt up again. 

“What?” shouted Samo, his eyes wide. Yuen Biao looked just as shocked. I explained to them that we hadn’t had enough cameras rolling to get the effect I wanted. We had just four at the time; later, I’d use as many as ten in order to capture the angles I wanted all at once.

This time, however, I figured that I’d have to repeat the stunt—and again, for a total of three completed takes.

We needed the takes, but I’ll tell you the truth: I was a little irritated with myself for chickening out so often earlier, and I wanted to prove to Samo and Yuen Biao, and everyone else, that I had successfully conquered my fear. 

All three of the successful falls were combined in the final cut of the film. I didn’t let the footage from some of my uglier attempts go to waste either; I added it to the end of the movie, running under the credits. 

This was something I’d started to do with Dragon Lord: show the “no goods” of stunts and fight sequences under the final credits, to make it clear that what we were doing was real, and really dangerous. Dragon Lord had some difficult stunts, such as the “bun pyramid” scene in the opening action sequence, but nothing as wild as the stuff in this movie. For Project A, we had so many “no goods” from different scenes that I could have made an entire feature-length blooper reel if I’d wanted to. 

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As my movies got bigger, and the stunts more and more complex, our “no good” footage files ballooned. To be honest, sometimes the “no good” footage is a lot more spectacular than the regular footage! But I run a family operation; if kids saw some of the things that happen to me and my stuntmen and fellow cast members during our shoots, I don’t think they could sleep at night.



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