- Justin Lee Ford
- 23 minutes ago
- 3 min read
Do you remember how you were introduced to the world of martial arts?
Unlike many whose stories begin in training halls or as badass kids fighting in back alleys, the story of Bruce Leung (AKA Leung Choi-sang) began backstage, under the lights of Cantonese opera, where every movement had to mean something.

In that world, fighting wasn’t separate from performance. Timing, balance, and expression all mattered, and those lessons stayed with Leung long after he stepped away from the stage and onto the screen.
Although many fans associate him with Wing Chun, Leung’s primary martial art was Goju-ryu Karate, with Wing Chun as an important part of his training. That combination gave him a grounded, no-nonsense presence that stood out in Hong Kong cinema.
His movements were compact and purposeful, his strikes looked heavy, and his fights felt honest—qualities directors valued during the kung fu boom of the 1970s and 1980s, when films were made quickly and authenticity mattered.
Leung became a familiar face during that era, appearing in a large number of martial arts films. Sometimes his roles were brief, sometimes more prominent, but his impact was often bigger than his screen time.

Western audiences may recognize him from The Tattoo Connection, starring Jim Kelly. Leung’s appearance in the film was short, but he played a crucial role behind the scenes, choreographing the action and helping shape the film’s tough, international flavor.
He also crossed paths with Jackie Chan in Magnificent Bodyguards, remembered as the first Hong Kong movie shot in 3D. Working alongside performers who would become global stars, Leung earned a reputation as a reliable professional—someone who could fight, perform, and adapt without fuss.

One of the strangest chapters of his career came when he portrayed Bruce Lee in the infamous Bruceploitation film The Dragon Lives Again. The movie itself remains notorious, but Leung’s casting speaks to how closely his physicality and skill aligned with the era’s image of martial arts legitimacy.
Leung also carried films as a lead, starring in titles such as My Kung-Fu 12 Kicks, Kung Fu: The Invisible Fist, and Black Belt Karate. These projects showcased him as a straightforward, believable screen fighter—never flashy, but always convincing. After stepping away from acting in 1988 with Ghost Hospital, it seemed his time in front of the camera had come to a close.
Then, in 2004, Leung returned in unforgettable fashion as The Beast in Kung Fu Hustle, directed by Stephen Chow. It was his first villain role and a moment that reintroduced him to a new generation of fans—this time as a quiet, terrifying presence whose power spoke louder than words.
Often grouped among the “Four Dragons of Chinese cinema” alongside Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan, and Ti Lung, Leung Choi-sang followed a very different path. He didn’t chase fame or headlines. Instead, he built a career on skill, professionalism, and trust.
His legacy lives in the fights he shaped, the films he strengthened, and the reminder that martial arts cinema was built not just by stars—but by craftsmen who made it all work.
Perhaps this is what legacy truly means: for many in the current generation, Leung Choi-sang wasn’t just a name in the credits—he helped nudge the door open for a new generation to step into the world of martial arts.



























































































