Martial Arts in Film
by Rui Feliz
Even though, as a film and video director, I prefer to be behind the camera, I have, in the
past, put in some time on-camera (i.e. acting). This keeps my actor/director communication skills
well-honed. So if you see a re-run of Top Cops, Missing Treasures, Getting
Gotti, or Counter Strike, it's possible that you'll see my mug on the screen. I'd like to
give you a behind-the-stage glimpse into the filming of martial arts sequences and the nature of
stuntwork.
People sometimes wonder, "Why use stunt people?" Let's take a hypothetical situation. The script calls for a fight sequence. OK, that's cool, and actors love doing that kind of stuff because it's fun. But we have 8 more days of principal shooting (i.e. scenes that involve the highest-paid actors) after this scene, so if our hero breaks a hand or a collar bone, sprains an ankle, gets a black eye, busts his nose, pulls his back or suffers any of a multitude of serious accidents, production will come to a halt, the delivery date may be missed, there can be hospitalization, insurance, law suits, and crew overtime. If production is shut down for two to three weeks, one might not be able to get the supporting actors back. On top of it all, our hero really may not be that physically agile, anyway.
There is an unwritten rule about using stunt people even when actors insist on doing their own gags (stunts): "Don't take away someone else's job." If the actor does all his stunts, that means a stunt double is out of work. So the gags get spread around. Truly dangerous stuff goes to the trained professional and if the actor really wants to get involved, he/she gets some of the easier stuff. That way everyone works.
During the filming of one Counter Strike episode, I was able to put my karate training to work. This was before I started aikido. For that particular fight scene, I practically had to pull out my shodan grading papers to convince the director that I was quite capable and had the training required to do the gag. After much deliberation and hemming and hawing, the director and producer agreed to let me do the scene. It also helps when you've worked with the director, producer, crew and stunt guys before. Happily I was able to influence the choreographer so that I could "have a bit of fun," and off we went. The director, cinematographer, stunt coordinator, hero and bad guy (that's me) block the fight scene step by step, punch by punch, very slowly. The scene is short — maybe thirty seconds. I use a real knife because rubber ones bend and look goofy and plastic ones won't do because they give you a false sense of security and can break while being handled. A real knife keeps everyone very alert and demands plenty of space between the actors, and whenever possible is swapped for a wooden one or not used at all.
Initially, I'm eager do the cool things we've all seen in martial arts movies. Yeah! Jumping, spinning, crescent kicks! A barrage of elbows, then dragon fist to the temple! But the stunt coordinator calmly reminds me, "Ah, this is TV, Rui. We can only spare 30 seconds on this stuff, and besides, you're the bad guy — you lose!"
"Okee-dokee." I get about a minute to stretch while the crew fiddles with lights. Then we do the scene.
The script looked simple enough: Int. Night — Church Rectory
- Angle on Pinto: he enters.
- Close-up: switchblade flicks open. Pinto approaches the desk. Canlon sits with his back
to camera.
- Close-up: Pinto approaches.
- Close-up: Canlon turns and smashes Pinto with a sucker punch. They fight.
And the fight sequence went like this...
He punches. I block, then swipe at him with the knife. He moves. I get one good crescent kick in (mikazuki geri). He clears it. I knife-swipe him again. He blocks, grabs the knife hand, hoofs me in the gut three times and throws me onto and over a solid oak desk.
"Cut!" My stunt double comes in for the desk gag, because he can be thrown and because I get overruled by the director, producer and insurance geeks. Oh, well... They go to the wide shot for the throw. The stunt double has his back to camera, gets thrown onto the desk. Now we cut to the close up, as I land on the other side. "Cut!" We do the scene twice, with two cameras going — that way we're guaranteed that we'll get both wide and close action on the two takes.
Because this is, indeed, TV, there is no luxury of infinite takes. So, the resulting footage gets edited with fast cuts, assorted groans, punching sound effects and some of our own real grunting, a little action music... and presto! A 30-second fight sequence takes an hour to shoot. Gee, we only have 52 more minutes left for shooting — we're moving on! The glamour is short-lived. The director likes it, there's a smattering of positive remarks from the crew and we're all wondering what's for lunch, because that is really the highlight of the day.
Fight scenes can be dangerous. Action film buffs will inevitably tell you some story of movie stars getting broken noses, cracked ribs. The latest story is Jackie Chan breaking an ankle on landing during a stunt, while filming Rumble in the Bronx. A friend of mine broke his hand in a theatrical fight scene. He finished the play and promptly went to emergency. No doubles in theatre. But his understudy had a great two weeks!
Depending on the kind and number of martial arts scenes required, a technical advisor may be brought in to help with realism and authenticity. Such expert consulting is often needed for filming medical procedures, sports action or weapon techniques, as well as for ensuring the authenticity of accents.
Scenes are shot from several angles, in order to capture the technique as clearly as possible while hiding things like tatami and crash pads. If the scene is complex, it is broken down into close-ups, medium shots and wide shots. Since continuity is a big factor, there are people assigned exclusively to that duty. Actors are expected to be at least somewhat consistent with movements and placement. Things that get broken — bottles over the head, chairs across the back, pool cues on the schnoz — get special attention, to make sure continuity works. So, when a fight scene has progressed up to the stunt gag (the breaking of a chair, a cue or another object), "Cut" is called, and breakage is saved for close-ups. Later, in post-production, scenes are edited with fast cuts, sound effects and music.
Bigger budgets mean more cameras for filming, so that scenes (especially big, complex ones) can be shot pretty much in one take with many different angles and framing (i.e. close-ups, medium close-ups, medium wides, high angles, low angles, dolly shots, truck shots, etc.). The bigger the budget, the more toys are used.
The neatest thing for me was one scene where I was driving a car and shooting an Uzi simultaneously. No car rig, no tow vehicle — just me, the car, my Uzi and a hood-mounted camera. I got to drive, shoot, screech to a halt, slam the car into park, reload, and do the same thing again driving in reverse... Cool! Just like when we were kids. When I parked the car after finishing the scene, I was quite impressed with myself. The director walked up and said — a little too loudly — "That's why I like using this guy! He knows how to drive and park." Oh, I thought it was my acting ability. It all ends, again, in a round of congratulations, a happy director, and "What's for lunch?"
As with so many other things in life, acting is a lot like aikido. One has to give and take while working with others. There must be balance in movement, timing in dialogue, focus on technique, harmony in a scene, as well as patience, discipline, repetition and practice. Coincidence? Hmmm.
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