I’ve got a gripe.  I love movies.  I certainly feel a little special about martial arts films.  Now, in recent times, there’s been a huge rush by filmmakers to get on the Special Effects bandwagon.  Computer graphics and optical effects lurk behind the scenes in almost every movie.  I think this is totally cool in pictures like Crouching Tiger, ‘Hidden Wires’ or Matrix I and II.  (Charlie’s Angels, either I or II, hardly need any Special FX to hold my interest)  I do object to this fakery, though, in pictures like, say, Romeo Must Die.

It has always been a tradition, since way back, from long before Enter The Dragon and the series, Kung Fu, to show real moves by real people.  I can remember the huge thrill I got from Frank Sinatra going ballistic at Lawrence Harvey in The Manchurian Candidate. And Billy Jack was the catalyst that caused me to take the role in Kung Fu, The Way of The Dragon (the original title) when it came along a year later.

We have always taken pleasure in being able to see with our own eyes that our heroes were actually doing the fighting.  I want to know, at least, that what I’m watching is possible for a human being to do.  I think everyone would agree, if they stopped to think, that, when dealing with Mafioso drug lords or hired hit men, running up a wall for twenty feet or so, or flying through the neighborhood shade trees is not really appropriate.

Take for example Jet Li’s stuff in Lethal Weapon 4.  Sure, there are a few camera tricks nestled in there, but, largely, it was Li’s awesome and very real expertise that carried the moment.  I saw that picture at a special press screening, and during the final fight with Mel Gibson and Danny Glover, those hard-bitten, jaded and cynical journalists stood up in their seats and cheered.  I had recently viewed Godzilla at a special showing at the Cannes Film Festival, and with all the 200 million dollars worth of computer graphics and breakaway models of The Chrysler Building, they couldn’t make a monster as scary as Jet Li managed to give us, with just a couple of sticks in his hands to help him out.

It takes most of the fun out of watching an action flick for me when I know that, these days, anyone who has learned how to wear sunglasses or sign autographs can come off as a martial arts master.  That’s why I, and all my buddies, flock to a Jackie Chan movie, to watch gleefully while Jackie cheerfully performs one remarkable stunt after another, actually risking his life to give us the real stuff.

In Kill Bill, the movie I’m shooting right now, Quentin Tarantino, even though he has the talents of Yuen Wu Ping and his circus troupe of Wu Shu performers at his disposal, has chosen to keep the wire-work at a minimum.  When you see Uma Thurman, Lucy Liu, Daryl Hanna, Vivica A. Fox, or, yes, David Carradine kicking butt, you’re not seeing any kind of a cartoon, you’re seeing Real Moves by real people.  In my fight with Michael Jai White, there were no camera  tricks, no speeding up of the moves, no photo-doubles, and I’ve got the scars to prove it.  I could show you the real hematomas on my forearms from blocking Michael’s punches.  And I briefly contemplated rubbing salt into the slash I received from his Chinese sword, to keep it there as a badge of honor.  I love that little cut more than any of my tattoos.

No, what you’ll see on the screen in this movie will be the results of five months of intensive training, and backed up, in my case at least, by 25 years of pursuing the art and philosophy of Shaolin gung fu.

Eventually, I’m sure, filmmakers will tire of making their movies with a game-boy joy-stick, though I loved watching Gandalf fighting off that huge animated demon in The Lord of The Rings.  But, please, guys, let me see streetfighters fighting on a real street, not a blue screen.  Save your technical marvels for sinking The Titanic and blowing up Pearl Harbor.  Give us the real stuff.

I’ll pay to see it twice.