Americans' curiosity and yearning for Chinese Kung Fu had a great deal to do with a Chinese American kung fu superstar. Many American adults had grown up watching his movies, and Davis had also loved flashy, cool kung fu films when he was young.
So when Martinez made his suggestion, Davis rejected it without a second thought.
"You know I'm an amateur fighting expert. Switching to fighting moves would let me perform better." Martinez stood firm.
"Just because you can do it doesn't mean others can. This is a film set, not a fighting ring. I want flashy, cool moves, not your combat techniques." Davis ignored him.
As a highly regarded Hollywood star, Martinez had the qualifications and confidence to argue with the director. The two stuck to their positions, drawing sidelong glances from the crew, though no one dared watch too openly for fear of getting caught in the crossfire and being chewed out.
"If you're not in form, you can use a stunt double," Davis suggested.
"It's not that I'm not in form. If we switch to fighting, I'll be in even better form." Martinez said, "Chinese Kung Fu is famously impractical and showy. Those fancy fists and embroidered legs moves look downright ridiculous. And they're hard to learn too..."
That was the key point.
Chinese moves demanded greater flexibility, something muscular foreigners could hardly achieve.
"Chinese Kung Fu isn't fancy fists and embroidered legs." The martial arts instructor had quietly been standing to the side as a spectator. After listening to Martinez's disdain for Chinese martial arts for quite some time, he finally could not hold back.
Yu Yongsheng had begun practicing martial arts at ten and was now thirty-five. The words kung fu were branded into his life. Kung fu was not merely his hobby; it