CULTURE
Hollywood wanted ‘fewer Asians’ in a new kung fu film. This Seattle director stuck to his script
With The Paper Tigers, Bao Tran aims to update the martial arts genre with nuanced characters.
by Brangien Davis / September 16, 2019
Photos by Matt M. McKnight
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Cast members (left to right) Brian Le, Andy Le and Phillip Dang rehearse a fight scene for ‘The Paper Tigers’ set at an empty pool in Shoreline, Aug. 22, 2019.
When the Seattle producers of The Paper Tigers started pitching their contemporary kung fu comedy, they received a lot of interest from Hollywood studios that wanted to green-light the script. One even offered $4 million, four times the projected budget.
There was just one caveat: fewer Asians.
“We got a lot of pushback about our all-minority leading cast,” says Al’n Duong, a 36-year-old father and filmmaker based in Kent, who is a producer on the film. The story surrounds three former martial arts prodigies (two Asian American, one African American). Now middle-aged, the estranged pals must upend their “civilian” lives to avenge their possibly murdered kung fu master. Duong recalls the standard studio reaction: “They’d say, ‘We love it. Maybe we could do it with just one Asian guy.’ ”
The Paper Tigers team was determined to make the film as originally envisioned. Long before the blockbuster success of Crazy Rich Asians (which grossed $238 million worldwide), they felt certain there was an audience for their kind of movie.
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(L-R) Second assistant camera Alex Farias, director of photography Shaun Mayor, and producer Al’n Duong on set in Shoreline. (Photo by Jesse Amorratanasuchad)
“We knew it was marketable, so we ran with it,” Duong says.
They took to Kickstarter and raised $124,000. That success, combined with a slick proof-of-concept trailer and a coveted slot at Cannes Film Festival’s networking program for movies in development, grabbed the attention of key investors. Thanks to several big donors (including a lifelong local who studied under Seattle transplant Bruce Lee), they were able to drum up the $1 million shooting budget — and have as many Asian characters as they pleased.
The driving goal has remained the same since the team first started developing The Paper Tigers eight years ago: Make an independent film that embraces the thrill and humor of martial arts movies, while offering a nuanced, realistic portrayal of Asian men.
The film is currently in post-production. But on a recent day in August, halfway through a tight 28-day shooting schedule, the cast and crew assembled at a Shoreline community center to film a pivotal fight scene at an empty indoor pool. By 10 a.m., fire trucks have already come and gone, responding to an alarm set off by a haze machine working vigorously to create a charged atmosphere in the institutional brick building.
The Paper Tigers writer and director Bao Tran isn’t thrown by the interruption. The focused 39-year-old filmmaker has an endearing goofball streak (as seen in his pitch video). Asked how things are going, he says, “It’s all been very pleasant.” He notes how much Seattle’s Asian business community has pitched in to ensure the filming goes smoothly. “Chinatown-ID [International District] has been so supportive,” he says. “Jade Garden provided the crew with food. The Dynasty Room let us shoot there, and the Nisei Vets Hall let us use their space.” He also filmed a big dinner scene at China Harbor.
Right now Tran is standing at the edge of the drained pool, watching the band of “young punks” — who may or may not be connected to the kung fu master’s death — practice their moves in the deep end.
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Director Bao Tran (at the edge of the pool) discusses a scene with cast and crew members of ‘The Paper Tigers’ during the recent film shoot in Shoreline, Aug. 22, 2019.
Tran explains that this scene is crucial, because it represents the clash of generations. The three older men (actors Ron Yuan, Alain Uy and Mykel Shannon Jenkins) confront a trio of young toughs, who remind them of their younger selves and highlight some fundamental differences.
“When martial artists don’t have a master, they can teach themselves through YouTube,” Tran says, explaining the backstory. “But there are no roots, no lineage.”
In the pool, the three younger guys (brothers Brian and Andy Le of performance team Martial Club, and stuntman Phillip Dang) kick, strike and execute acrobatic aerial spins while fight choreographer Ken Quitugua telegraphs movement through hand motions.
When the scene rolls, one of the older characters at the pool’s edge admonishes the youths: “The master always said, ‘Kung fu without honor is just fighting.’ ” It rings like a line from a classic martial arts movie.
Tran says The Paper Tigers’ nod to genre tropes is the reason some Asian film producers expressed doubts about making the movie. He says they were worried about stereotypes, asking, “Why do you want to make a martial arts movie? It only sets us back!” While acknowledging this as a valid concern, Tran protests, “But I love martial arts movies.”
Duong recognizes the hesitance. “I understand the pushback — kung fu movies are a sensitive topic. But for us, growing up, it was just what you did after school,” he says. “It’s very much a part of our history. We can’t just ignore it. We’re telling our story.”
Tran and Duong were raised in very similar circumstances. Both are children of Vietnamese refugees who fled to the United States in the 1970s. Their parents landed in Olympia, where both men were born, and as boys drank in Bruce Lee and other Hong Kong fight movies. They emulated the martial artists’ precise, powerful moves, and recorded scenes on low-fi video.
“Bao and I grew up in the same way,” Duong says, “making kung fu movies in the backyard.”
