HONG KONG, Sept. 7 (Xinhua) -- Suspended from an exhibition ceiling at Tai Kwun in Hong Kong, a prop helicopter brings visitors face to face with the behind-the-scenes secret of Hong Kong action cinema -- the kung fu stuntmen who built an era by putting their lives on the line.
The exhibition, titled Better Together -- Partnering Up for Hong Kong Movies, displays replicas of classic action props to explore the city's enduring cinematic team spirit. Chin Ka-lok, president of the Hong Kong Stuntman Association, helped to curate the exhibition and specifically recommended including these production details.
"Hong Kong action cinema has always been a mix of real and fake. It looks like a deadly risk on screen, but behind the scenes it's all calculated," Chin told Xinhua in a recent interview.
Between the 1960s and 1980s, facing stiff competition from Hollywood, Hong Kong carved out its global reputation through high-risk stunt work. Elite stunt teams led by pioneers like Jackie Chan and Sammo Hung flourished, constantly pushing the limits of physical action.
Chin entered the industry at 15 and spent about a decade training under Hung. He recalled when television crews filmed a dozen scenes a day, yet Chan spent three full days refining a single wire-work shot.
"At the time, that level of dedication was almost unimaginable. That pursuit of perfection stayed with me for life," he said.
The stunt business has an old rule: never say "no" on set. Since Chin began his career, he has said "Yes," "Can do," and "No problem" more than anything else.
"People pay to come to the cinema," Chin said. "If we don't put our lives on the line, we haven't earned their ticket." It was a principle he took to heart in his early days as an extra, and one he has carried with him ever since.
Since taking over as president of the association in 2014, Chin has felt an urgent need to preserve the memory of his peers. Several years ago, when a respected veteran stuntman passed away, Chin tried to compile a memorial booklet for him, only to find no records of when the veteran entered the industry or which films he had worked on. Without documentation, he realized, the names of many who risked their lives would simply fade with time.
A decade ago, Chin saw the skill gap firsthand on set while directing a stunt requiring a jump from the second floor. After repeated calls met only hesitation, a crew member in his 40s finally stepped forward to take the leap. "We must pass our experience to the young," Chin said. "If we don't teach them, who will jump in the future?"
To keep the craft alive, the association organized its first training workshop. Mindful of the local film market's limited capacity to absorb new talent, organizers avoided running it every year. It was not until 2026 that the second edition was launched, marking the first time the program received financial backing from the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region government's film development fund.
The 12-week training program selected 20 candidates from nearly 100 applicants to train under veteran instructors in wire-work, vehicular stunts, controlled explosions, firearms, and acting. The cohort brought together complete novices and seasoned athletes alike.
Hanging midair during wire-work drills, trainees quickly realized their lives depended entirely on the peers holding their safety ropes below. That mutual reliance captures the true essence of "partnering up" -- watching each other's backs and facing danger side by side.
Amid the rise of artificial intelligence, the trainees remain convinced that the raw emotion and physical reactions captured on camera cannot be replaced.
"We aren't actually brawling in the street, but we have to make the audience believe it," Chin said. "It has to look stylish, yet feel like real combat. That takes real skill."
Back in the gallery, the prop helicopter still hangs overhead. Having witnessed decades of grit on film sets, it now looks down on a new generation ready to step before the camera. ■
