Bruce Lee et le producteur et propriétaire de studio Raymond Chow à qui l’on doit l’internationalisation du cinéma hongkongais et particulièrement des arts martiaux.
The offense of democracy is punishable by law. Hong Kong has just been vampirized by Beijing under the polite reprobation of Europe. Western madness is over. No more question of specificities that could harm the Middle Kingdom. Here the money. Hong Kong makes its apron well before the date negotiated by the British when they left the peninsula in 1997. The date chosen for integration was 2047. Fifty years, two generations. A sufficiently long period for a smooth passage under the authority of Beijing. It will have been decided otherwise. The determination of the Hong Kong people is not unrelated to this. On the verge of freedom, the city stood up. A resistance supported by far by the Westerners. Supporting images. A status quo in balance. The Coronavirus will have got the better of democratic hope. When will it be tomorrow at sunrise? Who cares about Hong Kong, if not the Stock Exchange and the ghosts! To survive, the imagination remains the best of fuels. And cinema sometimes gives hope. Wouldn’t it be a sign of resistance to see again these films of the Sixties which overwhelmed the world cinematography. It will take five films in all and for everything, for Bruce Lee to win forever. Even if we could meet him in a series (The Green Hornet) as a masked driver, it is Hong Kong who will make him the Master of cinema of martial arts. The Little Dragon will become the idol of hand-to-hand combat and rare speech. Kung Fu will submerge continents like a typhoon of strength 8. Bruce Lee will pride himself on being the equal of James Dean. An original cinema was being born, not for its scripts but thanks to its combats choreographed like a ballet. Traced on paper like Laban’s notations, we will put the fight back into play as many times as necessary. There is no such thing as coincidence. The body becomes language equal to that of the dancer. If the films of Bruce Lee remain unequal, let us recognize that for many they have the uninhibited breath of a cinema which assumes its violence in freedom. A generation recognized itself in its titanic fights, it which received in full face the first wave of unemployment. The Thirty Glorious were behind us and the certainty of the world was fraying. In the 70s, you had to at least have a Bruce Lee in your video library. Preferably a pirated cassette. There is much more to artists than just being represented. Like James Dean twenty years earlier, Bruce Lee dies with eternity in him. Symbol without sharing, it is this ghost which haunts without knowing it China of President Xi Jinping. Long live Hong Kong!