Kung Fu vs. Ninjas

by Gene Ching

When KungFuMagazine.com announced that its first online photo contest would be NINJA STAR 2009, it raised a few kung fu eyebrows. For most people, ninjas are just another strange caricature from the martial arts world. But for those of us who actually practice martial arts, that was crossing party lines. The martial arts are strictly segregated by cultural borders. Kung fu is Chinese. Ninjas are Japanese. A kung fu ninja is right up there with sweet and sour sushi.

Nevertheless, as a stalwart kung fu practitioner and promoter, I confess that I own a ninja suit. I've actually had it for years, for so long I can't remember when I got it. Some of my old fencing buddies thought it would be funny to gallivant about in ninja suits during our more mischievous missions. Upon reflection, it was quite funny. Ninja suits were the perfect attire for our sophomoric pranks. One Halloween, we pulled an all-nighter road trip from the San Francisco Bay Area to UCLA to kidnap a friend. We burst into his dorm room all dressed as ninjas and had him pinned down at sword point before he had a clue what was happening. That was a Halloween he'll never forget. Trick or treat, old buddy. On another outing, we championed a fool. There used to be this annual underground game called Free the Fool played out on the hills of Stanford campus near the satellite dish. It was an elaborate game of capture the flag, although the fools were these cast-iron statues. Squirt bottles filled with dye served as guns and everyone wore a swath of cloth for a target. This was long before the rise of paintball guns. Heck, this was long before the notion of flash mobs, or even cell phones and the internet. Clad in ninja suits, we won the game by capturing the other team's Fool. It was a stunning victory which left the other team scratching their heads asking "who were those guys?" We even ran the Bay to Breakers wearing ninja suits. It was all great fun. Back in the '80s, everyone loved ninjas. We'd probably be busted as terrorists if we tried stunts like that today.

Prior to the '80s, the West had only limited exposure to ninjas. For many of my generation, our first introduction to ninjas was through the 1967 James Bond film, YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE. The film had almost nothing to do with the original Ian Fleming novel about Blofeld's Garden of Death. In fact, the screenplay was penned by none other than Roald Dahl, author of CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY. But Dahl's inclusion of ninjas sparked a fire, and in 1975, hot on the heel-kicks of Bruce Lee's posthumous premiere of ENTER THE DRAGON, Sam Peckinpah delivered THE KILLER ELITE, bringing ninjas out to Hollywood once more. While there was an assortment of ninja flicks coming out of Japan and Hong Kong (more on this later), few of those were widely seen in America.

During the '80s, while Lucas and Spielberg dominated the silver screen, the ninja craze sprang out of their shadows all across America. Stephan K. Hayes had published his unprecedented book NINJA. TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES, the original comic, was an underground sensation. Kawasaki introduced its line of Ninja motorcycles. There was even Ninja cologne. And in the movie theaters, Sho Kosugi was turning out reels and reels of ninja flicks. As fate would have it, I was working as an usher at a second-run movie theater at that time, so I saw all those ninja flicks, over and over. It was either that or sweep up popcorn. Ninja flicks were great cheesy cinema. Kosugi's NINJA III: THE DOMINATION remains my all-time favorite. Michael Dudikoff milked his AMERICAN NINJA franchise for four films, all the way to 1990. And at the start of the decade even Chuck Norris roundhoused into the picture with what was one of his strongest films, THE OCTAGON. Working at that theater also gave me the opportunity to truly field-test a ninja suit. It was another prank, and if there were any other instances of me donning a ninja suit for more covert purposes, well, no comment.

That theater was a dive. Fights broke out regularly on $1 Night Tuesdays and several of the ushers were mace-trained and carried baton-like flashlights for protection while closing the theater. As it turned out, one of our ushers was deathly afraid of ninjas. It was a strange fear, not quite on the level of a phobia, but significant enough to be noted by all the other employees. Working at minimum wage at a rundown theater, our late-teen/early-twenties staff engaged in all sorts of indiscretions when the boss wasn't looking, stuff like smuggling a keg behind one of the screens and frightening the candy girls with a fake decapitated head someone once left in the theater. "If only we could get a ninja to jump that guy," another usher commented. Since I had a ninja suit, a plan was hatched.

One night, when our victim was closing the theater, I donned my ninja suit and packed my bokken. I hid in a space behind the screen where he had to pass to check the back door, the same place where we once smuggled that keg. There was some element of danger given the mace and the flashlight, but I was young and full of puffed-up bravado. The entire crew was in on it, egging me on since it was so absurd. Our victim should have been suspicious when everyone was hanging around for the close. This was also during a horror flick craze, when the original HALLOWEEN and FRIDAY THE 13th franchises were in full crank-out-a-sequel mode. So my strategy was to stand in the shadows and appear when he turned around, just like Jason or Michael Myers. It was an epic failure. As it turns out, ninja suits work really well. If you're in the shadows in a ninja suit, people can't see you. He checked the door, turned and looked straight at me without flinching, and then walked on without seeing me at all.

One of my conspirators came in immediately after, wondering what went wrong. We cajoled our victim to double check the door by banging on it. The second time, I abandoned the horror flick strategy and went for the full-out ninja attack, swinging my bokken straight at his head with a blood-curdling kiai. I was training in kendo at the time and could pull my strike enough to land a light rap on his skull. And I could kiai. That got his attention. He shrieked like a little girl and ran screaming all the way out of the theater. When we finally caught up to him, he wasn't clear on what exactly had happened. He just remembered seeing a ninja and suddenly being in the lobby. He blacked out the screaming and running part, along with all the mocking laughter. It would have made a great Youtube video, had that existed back then. Fortunately, he had a good sense of humor about it all and was strangely honored to be the butt of such an elaborate prank. We drank some beers together after and all was mended. In retrospect, it was rather cruel, but at least he overcame his fear of ninjas. Never fear shadows. Shadows mean there is a light shining somewhere nearby.

The New Black - Ninja Suits
Those of us who were training martial arts during the '80s remember how the market got flooded by ninja suits. Beyond the standard black, martial manufacturers also offered ninja suits in "camo" for forest ninjas and "white" for snow ninjas. Snow ninjas? Those didn't sell so well, but they would have been perfect for dying into other colors. Since then, I've even heard of pink ninja suits worn by female tour guides to a ninja castle in Japan. Ironically, the ninja suit as we know it is most likely made up.

The real origin of the ninja suit remains shrouded in mystery. Ninjas disguised themselves by dressing as normal people. They dressed as monks, farmers, geisha, even as samurai. There are some 19th century Ukiyo paintings that depict the stereotypic black clad ninja with strap-trussed joints and hood. However some researchers have postulated that today's ninja fashion was originally derived from Japanese puppet shows. Bunraku is a form of traditional Japanese puppetry that uses ornate wooden puppets that are nearly a yard tall. These are manipulated by puppet masters that are clad in black uniforms akin to ninja suits.

In my youth, I attended a workshop with that pioneer American ninja himself, Master Stephan K. Hayes. The workshop was on kyoketsu shoge, an obscure weapon used exclusively by the ninja. I've always had a passion for obscure weapons, and it was when the ninja craze was at its apex, so I just couldn't resist. Hayes came dressed in signature ninja black, complete with trousers that were secured by ties at the ankles and knees. However, he was quick to refute his attire as something he had donned as a formality for the workshop. He said a ninja modern wouldn't actually wear this because it sticks out so much. According to Hayes, a real modern ninja would wear something inconspicuous. He felt a dark red sweatsuit was best. A dark red sweatsuit provides freedom of movement and turns to black in low light because dark red is at the end of the light spectrum. He was also a great advocate of acting nerdy or clumsy, especially in front of an arresting officer, to further deflect suspicion. I still have the copy of his book NINJA that he autographed for me.

Another real-life ninja, Master Harunaka Hoshino, states emphatically that the black ninja suit never existed. In his article, Perspectives of the Ninja (World of Martial Arts, Mar/Apr 1998), Hoshino says, "The Ninja never wore a black Shinobi-Shozoku (uniform). Instead, the Ninja wore dark blue, brown and reddish-brown uniforms in the night. Black appears too visibly in the night." I'm not sure what he means about black being visible at night exactly. It's pretty invisible in a dark theater. However, the point both Hayes and Hoshino make is well taken. Ninjas probably didn't wear an obvious costume of subfusc shades.

Ultimately, the ninja suit is just a deviation from the gi uniform worn in Japanese styles like karate and judo. The only difference is the ties at the ankles and knees, vambraces for the arms and the hood. Most mass-produced ninja suits also add a pocket for shuriken. So if ninja suits are indeed a fabrication of history, they aren't that dramatic of a departure from what many Japanese martial artists wear anyway.

Ninja Kung Fu
Ninjas, like nunchaku, stand historically outside the reach of kung fu. However, Chinese culture is extremely good at assimilation. Just as Bruce Lee snatched the nunchaku right out from under the Okinawan armpits, kung fu films spliced the ninja genre right into their own cinema. Undeniably, kung fu films dominate martial arts cinema. The next major genre is samurai film. After that, ninja flicks. Recently, there have been a few Mixed Martial Arts films, as well as Thai cinema showcasing Muay Thai, but these remain in the distant wake of kung fu fighters, samurai and ninjas. I can count the significant MMA flicks on my fingers and the Thai flicks on my fingers and toes. I can't even begin to guess how many kung fu, samurai and ninja films there have been in the world. There's some odd karate, taekwondo and other films, but not enough to truly define a genre. Even the blockbuster KARATE KID franchise is presently morphing into KUNG FU KID starring Jackie Chan and Will Smith's son, Jaden. Like I said, the Chinese style likes to assimilate.

Hong Kong filmmaker Godfrey Ho, also known as God Ho, made dozens of B-grade ninja films during the '80s. His filmography dwarfs Sho Kosugi's work. His first film, THE BLAZING NINJA, premiered the same year as ENTER THE DRAGON. God Ho has over 100 films to his credit, but like a true ninja he's a hard man to pin down. He was notorious for splicing scenes from one film into another in a hodge-podge fashion, stealing soundtracks and other nefarious acts of rogue Hong Kong low-budget filmmaking. Internet Movie Database lists over 40 alternate names for him. For a filmmaker like God Ho, ninjas are a godsend. They are instantly recognizable as villains, simple for the costume department and economical for the stunt crew. Did the hero just kill 30 ninjas or the same three ninjas ten times? Only God Ho knows.

However, despite God Ho's pilfering of the ninja genre, not everything originated in China. China can claim the noodle, the printing press and ketchup, but ninjas? Many have tried to make such a connection. In Leung Ting's book, Skills of the Vagabonds, Leung implies that Japanese ninjitsu descended from what he dubs "vagabond kung fu." The book discusses many of the martial charlatan tricks, stunts that were demonstrated by street performers in China's yesteryear to show prowess to an unwary audience. Some are still presented today. Many successive kung fu advocates have also tried to dig out the Chinese roots of ninjitsu, often presenting similar arguments as Leung. However, despite so many dubious research claims, ninjas remain distinctly Japanese in design. Only the Japanese could come up with the ritual suicide of seppuku. And only the Japanese could so formalize treachery.

In traditional Japanese culture, the ninja was frowned upon. I was training kendo - the Japanese sword sparring art descended from the samurai - right smack in the middle of that '80s ninja craze. My fellow kendokas had tremendous dislike for ninjas. Ninjas were considered lowly, not of the warrior class. Unlike the samurai, they had rejected bushido (the warrior code of honor). In samurai culture, even duels to the death had rules. The samurai code was so rigid that it empowered ninja to be deceitful. By refusing to fight honorably, face to face, the ninja gained tremendous advantage over the samurai. The samurai sometimes resorted to ninja tactics, but would be punished by death if discovered. This reminds me of when my fencing coach, the late great Michael D'Saro, taught our team all the ways he could think of to cheat. It wasn't so we could cheat. It was so we would be aware when someone cheated us and could deal with it accordingly.

In vintage samurai films, the ninja were always depicted as vile and repugnant. But as the martial arts moved west and into the modern age, the notion of martial ethics has been diluted. It has become all about who can win, not who can win with honor. The rise in ninja popularity during the '80s runs parallel to the current popular trend of vampires. It's very telling, even damning, to see what icons pop culture celebrates. What does it say about society when the culture romanticizes deceitful killers or blood-sucking undead?

When the '80s drew to a close, there was a backlash against ninja. Like Bruce Lee's nunchaku, ninjas were easily satirized. By the early '90s, ninjas were pitted against pirates in a bizarre feud that has swept the internet and events involving cosplay (short for Costume Roleplay, a growing pastime at Sci-Fi conventions and other such venues). Those mutant turtles dragged ninjas deep into the realm of children's films with the 3 NINJAS franchise and into mockery with films like BEVERLY HILLS NINJA. But when Zhang Ziyi donned a ninja costume at the turn of the millennium, the message was clear. CROUCHING TIGER, HIDDEN DRAGON was the only martial arts film to ever get Academy Award recognition. In one fell swoop, the ninja suit was absorbed into kung fu lore with the validation of four Oscars plus a nomination nod for costume design. Who's going to deny the gorgeous Ms. Z? Next thing you know, they'll be saying she can't play a geisha.

Be a NINJA STAR
Despite the fact that thousands of people still take the practice of ninjitsu quite seriously, the ninja suit is the funkiest uniform of the martial arts. Still widely seen in film, reenacted by Cosplayers, mocked in countless web videos, the ninja suit is now easily recognizable worldwide. In dark theaters, they might still evoke fear, but on the web, they invite parody. However, it wasn't with parody in mind that we launched our NINJA STAR 2009, though that element is clearly present. After all, it's the internet. The ninja suit provided the most latitude for the contest. Anyone can be a ninja with a ninja suit. If a genuine ninja master wants to demonstrate some authentic ninja skill, send us a photo. If a ninja poseur just wants to clown around, we welcome that too. We're just bringing a little ninja fun to Halloween 2009, and the ninja suit is one of our most popular items around this season. This contest is wide open to ninjas, non-ninjas and non-martial artists alike.

Just no pirates, please.

As for me, I still keep my ninja suit at the ready, neatly packed like Rambo's headband or Kwai Chang Caine's silk hand robe, ready to unfold at any moment for some ninja whoopass.

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Written by Gene Ching for KUNGFUMAGAZINE.COM

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