Sammo Hung: The Life Story Behind Hong Kong's Kung Fu Star

Sammo Hung is the big man of Hong Kong cinema, and that is not only a description of his size. It is a description of his place in the industry. He is a martial artist, an actor, a director, a choreographer, and a teacher, all at once, and he has been at the centre of Hong Kong action films for more than sixty years, since he was a child. He is the man who taught Jackie Chan, who worked with Bruce Lee, who made some of the funniest and most exciting action films in Hong Kong, and who is still working today, in his seventies, with the same energy he had as a boy.

He was born in Hong Kong in 1952, and he was sent as a child to the China Drama Academy, a harsh opera school where children learned acrobatics, martial arts, singing and acting, through long hours and strict discipline. The school produced a group known as the Seven Little Fortunes, including Hung, Jackie Chan and Yuen Biao, and those three would go on to change Hong Kong cinema together. Hung was the oldest, the biggest, and the leader, and he has been a leader ever since, on set, in the industry, and in the lives of the people he trained.

What makes Hung special is that he is both a fighter and a comedian, both a tough man and a kind man, both a star and a worker behind the scenes. He can fight in a way that is fast and powerful, and he can make people laugh in a way that is warm and human, and he can do both in the same film. His films are about friendship, about loyalty, and about the joy of movement, and they have made him one of the most loved figures in Hong Kong cinema.

A Child at the China Drama Academy

Sammo Hung was born on 7 January 1952 in Hong Kong, into a family connected to the film industry. His grandparents worked in film, and he grew up around sets, cameras and actors, but his real education began when he was sent to the China Drama Academy, a school run by Master Yu Jim-yuen, where children learned Chinese opera, acrobatics and martial arts. The school was famous for its strict discipline, with long days, with hard physical training, and with little time for rest. Children who went there learned to be tough, to be disciplined, and to work as a team, because the training was too hard to do alone.

At the academy Hung became part of a group known as the Seven Little Fortunes, a troupe of young performers who performed together and who became close friends. The group included Jackie Chan, who was then known as Yuen Lo, and Yuen Biao, and the three would become lifelong friends and collaborators. Hung was the oldest of the group, and he was the biggest, and he became a kind of big brother to the others, looking after them, teaching them, and leading them. That role, of the big brother, has stayed with him for his whole life, and it is how many people in Hong Kong cinema still see him.

The training at the academy was hard, but it gave Hung skills that would serve him for his whole career. He learned acrobatics, which taught him how to fall, how to jump, and how to move his body in a way that looked effortless on screen. He learned martial arts, which taught him how to fight, how to use weapons, and how to choreograph a fight scene. He also learned how to perform, how to sing, how to act, and how to work with an audience. Those skills, learned as a child, became the foundation of his work as an adult, and they made him one of the most complete performers in Hong Kong.

As a child actor, Hung also appeared in films, including small roles in which he played a young fighter or a young performer. He learned how a film set worked, how a camera worked, and how to take direction, and he learned it at a young age, when most children were still at school. That early start gave him a head start in the film industry, and it meant that by the time he was a teenager, he already had years of experience, both on stage and on screen.

Enter the Dragon and the Stunt Years

In the early 1970s Hung began to work as a stuntman and as a fight choreographer, and he worked on some of the most famous films of the time. He appeared in Enter the Dragon in 1973, the film that made Bruce Lee a global star, in a small role as a fighter, and he worked with Lee on the set, learning from him how to stage a fight, how to move, and how to make action look real. Working with Lee was a major moment for Hung, and it taught him a great deal about the craft of action cinema. Lee was a perfectionist, and Hung learned from him that a fight scene had to be both beautiful and believable, and that it took hard work to make it look easy.

Hung also worked as a stuntman and choreographer on many other Hong Kong films in the 1970s, building a reputation as a reliable, skilled professional. He was known for his ability to design fight scenes that were exciting, funny and creative, and for his willingness to do dangerous stunts himself, even though he was a large man. That willingness, to take a risk for the film, made him respected among stunt performers, and it made directors want to work with him. He was not only a performer. He was a craftsman, who understood how action worked, and who could make it work for the camera.

During this period Hung also began to act in larger roles, and to direct. He was learning how to be a filmmaker, not only a fighter, and he was building the skills he would need to make his own films. He worked with many of the best directors in Hong Kong, and he learned from each of them, about storytelling, about comedy, and about how to run a set. Those years were a kind of apprenticeship, and they prepared him for the next phase of his career, when he would become a director and a star in his own right.

The Iron-Fisted Monk and Directing His Own Films

In 1977 Hung directed his first film, The Iron-Fisted Monk, and it was a sign of what was to come. The film was a martial arts film, with Hung as the star, and it showed his skill as both a fighter and a director. He followed it with other films, including Warriors Two, Knockabout, and Encounters of the Spooky Kind, a film that mixed martial arts with horror and comedy, and that became a classic of Hong Kong cinema. Encounters of the Spooky Kind showed Hung’s sense of humour, and his ability to mix genres, to make a film that was scary, funny and exciting, all at once.

Hung’s films as a director were known for their action, their comedy, and their warmth. He made films about friends, about family, about ordinary people who find themselves in extraordinary situations, and he made them with a generosity that made the audience feel welcome. His films were not cold or cynical. They were warm, human and fun, and they showed a director who loved his actors, who loved his audience, and who loved the craft of filmmaking.

In the 1980s Hung became one of the most successful directors and actors in Hong Kong, with a series of hit films that are still loved today. He starred in Winners and Sinners, a comedy about a group of ex-convicts who try to go straight, and in Wheels on Meals, a film with Jackie Chan and Yuen Biao, about three friends who run a food van in Spain, and who get into trouble with gangsters. He also directed and starred in Millionaires Express, a western-style action comedy, and Eastern Condors, a war film about a group of soldiers on a mission. Each of these films showed a different side of Hung, as a comedian, as an action hero, and as a director, and each was a success.

Winners and Sinners, Wheels on Meals and the Lucky Stars

The Lucky Stars films, including Winners and Sinners, My Lucky Stars, and Twinkle Twinkle Lucky Stars, are among Hung’s most loved works. They are comedies about a group of friends, played by Hung, Jackie Chan, Yuen Biao and others, who get into trouble, who help each other, and who make the audience laugh with their antics. The films are funny, warm and full of action, and they show the friendship between Hung, Chan and Biao, which was real, not only on screen. The audience could feel that friendship, and it made the films feel like a reunion, every time.

Wheels on Meals, released in 1984, is another classic, with Hung, Chan and Biao as three friends in Barcelona, who run a mobile food stall and who fight gangsters to protect a woman. The film is famous for its action scenes, including a fight between Chan and the martial artist Benny Urquidez, and for its humour, with the three friends bickering, joking, and looking after each other. The film showed Hung at his best, as a performer who could be both funny and tough, and as a director who could stage a fight and a joke in the same scene.

Hung also worked as a producer and choreographer on many other films, including Mr. Vampire, a horror comedy that became a classic, and other films in the 1980s that defined Hong Kong cinema. He was a central figure in the industry, not only as a star, but as a person who made films happen, who trained new stunt performers, who choreographed fights, and who helped other directors. He was a builder, as well as a performer, and the Hong Kong film industry owes him a great deal.

In the 1990s Hung continued to work in Hong Kong and in the United States, including the television series Martial Law, in which he played a police officer in Los Angeles, and which introduced him to an American audience. The series was a success, and it showed that Hung could work in English, in a different culture, and still be himself. He was not only a Hong Kong star. He was a global action star, with a career that crossed borders.

Ip Man, Later Years and a Living Legend

In later years Hung has continued to work, including a memorable role in Ip Man 2 in 2010, in which he played a martial arts master who fights Donnie Yen’s Ip Man, in a scene that is now famous for its power and its emotion. The fight is not only about action. It is about respect, about tradition, and about two masters who understand each other, even as they fight. Hung’s performance in Ip Man 2 was praised, and it showed that he was still a formidable performer, even in his late fifties, and that he could still command a screen with his presence alone.

Hung has also worked as a director and choreographer in recent years, and he has been honoured for his contribution to Hong Kong cinema, with awards and with tributes from younger filmmakers who see him as a mentor. He has taught many stunt performers, many actors, and many directors, and his influence is felt throughout the industry. He is a living legend, not only because of his films, but because of the people he has trained, and the work he has done behind the scenes.

Today Sammo Hung is in his seventies, and he is still working, still appearing in films, still choreographing, and still teaching. He has been in the film industry for more than sixty years, since he was a child at the China Drama Academy, and he has seen Hong Kong cinema change many times. Through all those changes, he has remained a central figure, a big brother to the industry, a fighter, a comedian, and a friend. His story is about a boy who was sent to a harsh school, who learned to be tough, and who used that toughness to make films that made people laugh, that made them cheer, and that made them feel.

Why Sammo Hung Matters to Hong Kong Cinema

Sammo Hung matters because he is the link between the old Hong Kong cinema and the new, between the opera school and the modern action film, between Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan, and between Hong Kong and the world. He learned from the past, he worked with the stars of his time, and he taught the stars of the next generation. Without him, Hong Kong action films would be different, and they would be poorer. His films, his fights, and his friendship with Chan and Biao are part of the history of cinema, and they will be remembered for a long time.

Martial Law, America and a New Audience

In the late 1990s Hung moved to the United States to star in the television series Martial Law, in which he played Sammo Law, a police officer from Shanghai who moves to Los Angeles, and who uses his martial arts skills to fight crime, with the help of his colleagues. The series was a success in America, and it introduced Hung to an audience who had never seen his Hong Kong films, and who knew him only as a new, large, funny, and tough action star. Martial Law was a different kind of work for Hung, because it was in English, because it was for American television, and because it required him to adapt to a different culture, a different way of working, and a different audience, but he did it, with the same professionalism he had shown in Hong Kong, and he became a familiar face to American viewers.

Martial Law also showed Hung’s sense of humour, because Sammo Law was not only a fighter. He was also a man who was out of his place, who did not understand American customs, who made mistakes, and who made people laugh, even as he fought. That mix, of action and comedy, was Hung’s trademark, and it worked in America as well as it had worked in Hong Kong, because the feeling behind it, of being an outsider, of trying to fit in, and of using humour to survive, is universal. The series ran for two seasons, and it gave Hung a new audience, a new kind of fame, and a new chapter in his career, as a global action star, not only a Hong Kong star.

After Martial Law, Hung returned to Hong Kong, and to Asia, and he continued to work in film, in television, and as a choreographer, bringing back what he had learned in America, about working in English, about working with a different crew, and about reaching a different audience. That experience made him a more complete filmmaker, and it showed that he could work anywhere, in any language, and still be himself, still be Sammo, the big brother, the fighter, and the comedian, who makes people laugh and cheer, wherever he goes.

Teaching, Choreography and the Next Generation

Hung’s work as a teacher and as a choreographer is as important as his work as an actor, because he has trained many of the stunt performers, actors, and directors who work in Hong Kong cinema today. He learned his skills at the China Drama Academy, he learned more from Bruce Lee, from working on sets, and from directing his own films, and he has passed those skills on, to younger people who want to learn how to fight, how to fall, how to choreograph, and how to make an action scene that is both exciting and safe. That teaching is done on set, in rehearsal, and in the everyday work of making a film, and it is a quiet, generous act, that does not always get the credit it deserves.

As a choreographer, Hung is known for his creativity, for his ability to design a fight that is not only fast, but also funny, and also beautiful, with a rhythm, with a story, and with a sense of character. A fight in a Hung film is not only about hitting. It is about who the characters are, about what they want, and about how they move, and that storytelling through movement is a skill that few choreographers have. Hung has it, because he learned it as a child, at the academy, and because he has practised it for more than sixty years, in film after film, in scene after scene, until it became second nature to him.

The next generation of Hong Kong action stars, directors, and choreographers owe a great deal to Hung, because he showed them that it was possible to be both a fighter and a filmmaker, both a star and a teacher, and both a Hong Kong actor and a global star. He showed them that hard work, discipline, and generosity could build a long career, and that a career built on those things would last, even when the industry changed, even when the audience changed, and even when the world changed. That lesson, taught by example, is Hung’s greatest legacy, even more than any single film, because it lives on in the people he trained, and in the films they will make.

Eastern Condors, Millionaires Express and the Action Comedies

Eastern Condors, released in 1987, was a war film directed by Hung, about a group of soldiers, played by Hung, Yuen Biao, and others, who are sent on a dangerous mission in Vietnam, and who must fight, survive, and look after each other, in a story that was both exciting and emotional, with action scenes that were praised for their realism, for their intensity, and for their choreography, and with a feeling of brotherhood, of loyalty, and of sacrifice, that made the film more than an action film, and that made it a story about friendship, about duty, and about the cost of war. Eastern Condors was a success, and it showed Hung as a director who could handle a big, serious film, with a large cast, with a complex story, and with a lot of action, and still make it human, still make it funny, and still make it moving, in the way that only Hung could.

Millionaires Express, released in 1986, was a western-style action comedy, about a train, about a group of outlaws, about a sheriff, and about a town that is threatened, with Hung as a star, as a director, and as a choreographer, and with a cast that included many of Hong Kong’s best actors, in a film that was both a tribute to westerns, and a Hong Kong film, with its own humour, its own action, and its own feeling. The film was a success, and it showed Hung’s range, his ability to make a film in a different genre, with a different setting, and still make it his own, still make it funny, still make it exciting, and still make it about friendship, about loyalty, and about ordinary people who become heroes, when they have to.

These films, together with Winners and Sinners, Wheels on Meals, and other comedies, form a key part of Hung’s career as a director, and they show that he was not only an action star, but a filmmaker, with a vision, with a sense of story, and with an ability to make films that were both entertaining and meaningful, that made people laugh, that made them cheer, and that made them feel, all at once. That ability, to mix action, comedy, and emotion, is rare, and it is why Hung is regarded as one of the great directors of Hong Kong cinema, alongside the other stars of his generation, who made films that defined an era, and that are still watched, still quoted, and still loved, decades later, by fans in Hong Kong, in Asia, and around the world.

The action comedies are also important because they show Hong Kong cinema at its peak, in the 1980s, with many films, many stars, and many audiences, who went to the cinema every week, to see a new film, to laugh, to cheer, and to feel part of a shared culture, and Hung was at the centre of that world, making films, choreographing fights, teaching new performers, and helping to keep the industry alive, through his work, his energy, and his generosity, as a big brother, a teacher, and a friend, to many people in the industry, who owe him a great deal, and who still remember him, with respect, with affection, and with gratitude, for what he did, for them, and for Hong Kong cinema.

My Take:

I think Sammo Hung is the kind of person every industry needs, and rarely gets: a big brother who is also a master. He is not only a star, he is a teacher, a choreographer, a director, and a friend, and he has been all of those things for more than sixty years. I admire that, because it is easy to be a star for a few years, and hard to be a builder for a lifetime. Hung has been a builder, training stunt performers, choreographing fights, directing films, and looking after the people around him, and that work, done quietly behind the scenes, is as important as any film he starred in.

What I think about most is the China Drama Academy, and what it must have been like to be a child there. The school was harsh, with long hours, with strict discipline, with little comfort, and the children who went there had to be tough to survive. I do not romanticise that harshness, because it was hard, and it must have been painful for a child, but I also see what it produced: a group of young people who could do things with their bodies that most people cannot, who could work as a team, and who could endure. Hung, Jackie Chan and Yuen Biao came out of that school, and they changed cinema together, and that tells me that even a hard start can produce something beautiful, if the people involved support each other. Hung was the big brother in that group, and he has been a big brother ever since.

I love the Lucky Stars films, and Winners and Sinners in particular, because they are about friendship, and because the friendship on screen was real. Hung, Chan and Biao were not acting friendship. They were friends, from childhood, from the academy, from years of working together, and the audience could feel that. When they bicker, when they joke, when they help each other, it feels true, because it is true. I think that is why those films are still loved. They are not only comedies. They are a record of a friendship, and a celebration of it, and that is a rare thing in cinema. Most films pretend friendship. These films show it.

Enter the Dragon is a moment I think about, because Hung worked with Bruce Lee, and Lee was a perfectionist, a man who demanded the best from everyone around him. To work with Lee, even in a small role, must have been both terrifying and inspiring, and Hung learned from it. He learned that a fight scene had to be beautiful and believable, that it took hard work to make it look easy, and that the audience deserved that work. I think that lesson stayed with Hung for his whole career, and it is why his fight scenes are so good. They are not only fast. They are careful, they are creative, and they respect the audience.

Ip Man 2 is the later film that stays with me, because Hung plays a master who fights Donnie Yen, and the fight is not only about winning. It is about respect, about tradition, about two men who understand each other, even as they fight. Hung was in his late fifties when he made that film, and he was still powerful, still graceful, still able to command a screen with his presence. I find that moving, because it shows that age does not have to end a career, if the performer is willing to adapt, to play a different kind of role, and to use experience instead of youth. Hung did that, and he did it beautifully.

There is a sadness in his story too, and it is the sadness of a harsh childhood, of a school that was strict, of a life that was hard from the start. I do not know the details of Hung’s feelings about the academy, and I do not want to guess, but I can imagine that a child who is sent away to a strict school, who is trained for hours every day, must feel lonely, and must miss home. That loneliness is part of his story, even if he does not talk about it often, and it makes his later warmth, his humour, and his generosity as a teacher, feel more meaningful. He knows what it is like to be a child who needs a big brother, and he became one, for many people.

I do not think Hung is perfect, and I think his very size and strength can sometimes make his films feel too physical, too focused on action, and not enough on story. Some of his films are more about the fight than about the characters, and I understand that criticism. But I also think that is part of who he is. He is a martial artist first, and a storyteller second, and his films reflect that. I would rather have a film that is honest about what it is, a fight film that is a great fight film, than a film that pretends to be something else. Hung’s films are honest, and that honesty is a virtue.

If a young stunt performer or actor asked me what to learn from Sammo Hung, I would say this: learn your craft, learn it well, and learn it from people who are better than you. Be disciplined, be reliable, and be willing to do the hard work behind the scenes, not only the glamorous work in front of the camera. Look after your friends, teach what you know, and do not be afraid to be the big brother, the person who helps others, even when it does not bring you fame. That is what Hung did, and it is why he is respected, not only as a star, but as a man.

In the end, I think Sammo Hung has taught me that a career can be long, and a life can be useful, if you are willing to be both a performer and a teacher, both a fighter and a friend. He has been in films for more than sixty years, and he is still working, still teaching, still fighting, and still making people laugh. That is a remarkable life, and it is why I will keep watching his films, and why I think Hong Kong will keep calling him its big brother for a long time.

I also think about Martial Law, and about what it must have been like to go to America, to work in English, to be a star in a different country, and to have to adapt to a new way of working, a new culture, and a new audience. That is not easy, especially for a man who was already a star in Hong Kong, who could have stayed at home, and who did not need to prove himself again. Hung went anyway, because he wanted to try, because he wanted to learn, and because he wanted to reach a new audience, and he succeeded, by being himself, by being funny, by being tough, and by being kind. That is a brave choice, and it is one I respect, because it shows that even a legend can be a student, can start again, and can learn a new world.

I think about his teaching, and about the stunt performers, actors, and directors he has trained, and about how that work will last longer than any single film. A film is watched, enjoyed, and then remembered, but a student who is taught well will go on to teach others, to make films, to choreograph fights, and to pass on what they learned, and that chain can go on for generations. Hung is at the start of that chain, for many people in Hong Kong cinema, and his influence will be felt long after he stops acting, because it lives in the people he trained, in the way they work, and in the films they make. That is a legacy that is hard to measure, but it is a real one, and it is one of the most important things he has done.

I wonder what it must be like to be in your seventies, to have been in films for more than sixty years, and to still be working, still choreographing, still acting, and still teaching. That must be tiring, and it must also be joyful, because it means that the work still matters to you, that you still love it, and that you still have something to give. I hope Hung feels that joy, and I hope he knows that his work is appreciated, not only in Hong Kong, but around the world, by fans who love his films, by students who learned from him, and by filmmakers who were inspired by him. A life of work, done well, is a life worth living, and Hung has lived it, for more than sixty years, with energy, with humour, and with generosity.

I also think about the friendship with Jackie Chan and Yuen Biao, and about how rare it is for three friends from childhood to stay friends for a lifetime, to work together, to support each other, and to become legends together. That friendship is a beautiful thing, and it is a reminder that the best work is often done with friends, with people you trust, with people who know you, and who have known you since you were a child. Hung, Chan and Biao had that, and their films show it, in the way they joke, in the way they fight, and in the way they look after each other. I hope that friendship lasts, and I hope it is remembered, as part of their story, and as part of Hong Kong cinema.

In the end, I come back to the big brother, to the man who looked after his friends at the academy, who looked after his colleagues on set, who taught the next generation, and who made films that made people laugh and cheer. That is a life of service, as well as a life of stardom, and it is why I admire Sammo Hung, not only as a fighter, not only as a comedian, but as a man who used his strength to help others, and who used his fame to teach, to build, and to give back. That is a legacy worth remembering, and it is why his story will be told for a long time, in Hong Kong and around the world.

I also think about Eastern Condors and Millionaires Express, and about the way they show Hung as a director who could handle different genres, a war film, a western, a comedy, an action film, and make each one his own, with his humour, his action, and his feeling for friendship, for loyalty, and for ordinary people who become heroes. That versatility is rare, and it is why I think Hung is a great filmmaker, not only a great fighter, because he can tell a story, in any genre, and make it work, make it funny, make it exciting, and make it human, all at once, and that is a skill that few directors have, and one that Hung has shown, film after film, for more than forty years, as a director, as an actor, and as a choreographer.

I think about the 1980s, and about Hong Kong cinema at its peak, with many films, many stars, and many audiences, who went to the cinema every week, to see a new film, to laugh, to cheer, and to feel part of a shared culture, and I find that moving, because it shows that cinema can be a community, a place where people come together, to share a story, to share a laugh, and to share a feeling, even if they do not know each other, and even if they come from different lives. Hung was at the centre of that community, making films, teaching, choreographing, and helping others, and his work helped to create that community, and to keep it alive, through good times and bad, and that is a legacy worth remembering, and worth celebrating, even today, when Hong Kong cinema has changed, and when the world has changed, around it.

I wonder what it must be like to be in your seventies, to have been in films for more than sixty years, and to still be working, still teaching, still choreographing, and still acting, and to know that your work has touched so many people, in Hong Kong, in Asia, and around the world, through your films, through your students, and through your friendship with Jackie Chan and Yuen Biao, who are also legends, and who also owe a great deal to you, as a big brother, as a teacher, and as a friend. That must be a powerful feeling, a mix of pride, of gratitude, and of humility, and I hope Hung feels it, because he deserves to feel it, after sixty years of hard work, of good films, and of generous teaching, that has made Hong Kong cinema better, and that has made the lives of many people better, too.

I also think about the next generation, and about the young stunt performers, actors, and directors who are learning from Hung, directly or indirectly, through his films, through his choreography, and through his example, and I hope they learn not only how to fight, how to fall, and how to make an action scene, but also how to be generous, how to teach, how to look after their friends, and how to be a big brother, or a big sister, to others in the industry. That is the most important lesson Hung can teach, and it is one that will last longer than any single fight scene, because it is about character, about kindness, and about the way we treat each other, on set, and in life, and that is a lesson worth learning, for anyone, in any field, not only in film.

In the end, I come back to the big brother, to the man who looked after his friends at the academy, who looked after his colleagues on set, who taught the next generation, and who made films that made people laugh and cheer, for more than sixty years. That is a life of service, as well as a life of stardom, and it is why I admire Sammo Hung, not only as a fighter, not only as a comedian, but as a man who used his strength to help others, and who used his fame to teach, to build, and to give back, to Hong Kong cinema, and to the people who love it. That is a legacy worth remembering, and it is why his story will be told for a long time, in Hong Kong and around the world, by fans, by students, and by friends, who knew him, who worked with him, and who loved him, as a big brother, and as a legend.

Frequently Asked Questions

How did Sammo Hung start in films as a child?

Sammo Hung was born in Hong Kong in 1952 and was sent as a child to the China Drama Academy, a strict opera school where he learned acrobatics, martial arts and acting. He became part of the Seven Little Fortunes, a troupe that included Jackie Chan and Yuen Biao, and he appeared in films as a child actor. That training gave him the skills for his whole career.

Did Sammo Hung work with Bruce Lee?

Yes, Hung appeared in Enter the Dragon in 1973, the film that made Bruce Lee a global star, in a small role as a fighter, and he worked with Lee on the set. He learned from Lee how to stage a fight scene so that it was both beautiful and believable. That experience shaped his work as a fight choreographer and director.

What are Sammo Hung’s best-known films as a director?

His best-known films as a director include The Iron-Fisted Monk from 1977, Encounters of the Spooky Kind, Winners and Sinners, Wheels on Meals, Millionaires Express and Eastern Condors. Each mixes action, comedy and warmth, and each shows his skill as a fighter, a comedian and a filmmaker. Many are now classics of Hong Kong cinema.

Who were the Seven Little Fortunes?

The Seven Little Fortunes were a troupe of young performers at the China Drama Academy, including Sammo Hung, Jackie Chan and Yuen Biao, who performed together as children. Hung was the oldest and became a big brother figure to the others, a role he has kept in the film industry. The three friends later starred together in many films.

What is Sammo Hung’s role in Ip Man 2?

In Ip Man 2 from 2010, Hung played a martial arts master who fights Donnie Yen’s Ip Man in a famous, powerful scene. The fight is about respect and tradition as much as action, and Hung’s performance was praised for its power and emotion. It showed that he was still a formidable performer in his late fifties.

Is Sammo Hung still working today?

Yes, Hung is still working in his seventies, appearing in films, choreographing action, directing, and teaching younger performers. He has been in the film industry for more than sixty years, since his childhood at the China Drama Academy. He is regarded as a living legend and a mentor in Hong Kong cinema.