A PRACTICAL PRIMER ON THE FIGHTING ARTS OF THE PHILIPPINES TAUGHT BY BLACK BELT HALL OF FAMER JULIUS MELEGRITO In our May 2012 issue, Julius Melegrito, Black Belt’s 2011 Weapons Instructor of the Year, wrote “10 Things You Probably Didn’t Know About the Filipino Martial Arts” to let readers who don’t already practice FMA know what they’re missing. In this follow-up, he explains and demonstrates key concepts from the group of arts that are commonly referred to as escrima, kali or arnis that you’ll need to get started in your training. Word to the wise: They’ll help you improve your skills and knowledge even if you don’t intend to take up FMA.—Editor CLASSICS: “Your whole purpose in classical Filipino stick fighting is to hit your opponent until he’s out of the fight—you don’t mess around with other techniques like traps,” Melegrito says. TARGETS: “In practice, you use your stick to hit his stick as close to his gripping hand as you can manage while staying safe, but in a real fight, you’d hit the hand,” he says. “It usually makes him drop his weapon. Of course, in a fight, an attempt to hit his hand might miss, which is why you practice follow-ups.” FOLLOW-UP: Melegrito likes to use an empty hand—assuming he’s not holding a second stick—to check the opponent’s hand right after it’s hit. That’s his insurance policy: If the strike doesn’t have the intended effect for whatever reason, Melegrito can prevent the man from bringing the hand back into action. He immediately follows up with a stick strike to the forearm, elbow, face, neck or some other available target. SIMPLICITY: “You don’t try to grab him or do anything else,” he says. “You just hit anything that comes at you—be it a hand, a knife or whatever. Whoever hits first usually wins the battle.” LEGS: If the opponent kicks, the same principles apply, Melegrito says. Aim for the foot or ankle, check the leg if necessary and then follow up. Don’t try to trap the leg. SCHISM: “In classical stick fighting, the stick is treated like a sword—which means all strikes are regarded as cuts,” he says. “If you’re doing the classical arts, you don’t touch the stick because that would be like touching a sharp sword blade. In modern Filipino stick fighting, however, the stick is treated like a stick.” MODERN APPROACH: “In the modern arts, it’s OK to touch the stick,” he says. “After all, it’s a stick, not a sword. You just treat it as an impact weapon. When the guy swings at you, you intercept his strike with a strike from your stick—aimed at his hand—then you grab his weapon close to his hand if he doesn’t drop it. Grabbing it allows you to use it against him or take it away.” OPTIONS: “Once you grab his stick, move it out of the way if you want to strike,” Melegrito says. “If he holds onto it, his arm will be carried along with the weapon, which will leave his body open for your counterstrike. If he tries to kick, you can maneuver the stick down to block his shin, then hit his body with your stick. Or you can use his stick to lock his arm. At any point, you have the option of switching to the classical approach and just hitting him.” DISARMS: Part of modern stick fighting is separating your opponent from his weapon, Melegrito says. As he already mentioned, you can hit the hand holding the stick with the intention of making him drop it. You also can leverage it out of his hand using a twisting motion. Or you can use your stick to push his stick out of his hand in such a way that it goes flying. This last category of techniques he calls “projectile disarms.” WARNING: “Disarming an attacker is a good concept for self-defense, but before you can disarm him, you have to grab his stick, and to do that safely, you have to understand the angles at which it’s dangerous,” Melegrito says. “Of course, it helps if you ‘soften’ him up with a strike before you try the disarm. Then it’s easier to use leverage to break his balance and force the stick out of his hand.” THEORY: “In modern stick fighting, the whole idea is if you can hit his hand, you can probably grab his stick, and if you can grab his stick, you can disarm him,” he says. “If it’s a knife, that changes things a little—your survival depends on being able to grab his wrist and prevent him from moving it to cut you. Then you can disarm him and maybe use it against him.” PROGRESSION: Once you have the theory and the basics down pat, it’s time for partner training, Melegrito says. “Start with static disarms and work your way up to dynamic disarms, in which you both are moving when you try it.” SHIELD: “Modern stick fighting is not just about beating somebody up—you don’t always have to hit,” he says. “This is very important to know in situations where there are a lot of witnesses because if you have a stick and your opponent doesn’t, the witnesses are going to view you as the aggressor. After all, you’re armed and you’re hitting him. That’s why you also need to know how to use a stick as a shield. These defensive techniques are good for police officers or anyone who doesn’t want to injure the other person.” IMPACT: The key to using a stick as a shield lies in positioning it in a nonthreatening location—such as parallel to your forearm—so it can absorb the force of an attack. Then, in the eyes of witnesses, it’s the aggressor who’s causing the problem by hitting you. All you’re doing is blocking. “This training is especially good for kids to learn because it’s totally defensive,” Melegrito says. SHIELD VARIATION: Say you’re walking along a street with an umbrella or cane in your hand. An aggressor approaches, and you raise your makeshift weapon. He grabs it with one hand to intimidate you, which prompts you to place your free hand on the other end of the weapon. Then he chambers his fist and unleashes a punch. “You can use the umbrella to block by raising it into the path of his fist,” Melegrito says. “If he tries to grab you again, you can lower the stick and block the arm. It also works if he tries to kick.” ESCAPE: “To make him release your umbrella so you can use it in other ways, twist it and snap it down,” he says. Then you can scoot behind him, assuming the situation warrants and your skills are up to the task, and apply a choke. “The idea is to use the umbrella in a way that doesn’t involve hitting,” Melegrito says. “You can push against his throat to get him away, or you can deflect a punch and go to a position in which you have it against the side of his neck. Once he’s under control, then you can talk.” CONTROL: That final category of techniques in modern stick fighting—moves that enable you to restrict or immobilize an attacker without inflicting harm—is an essential one to master in our litigious society. “When a guy comes up to you and reaches out, maybe he just likes your shirt—you don’t know,” Melegrito says. “That’s why in many situations it’s better to control than to immediately start hitting.” Photos by Robert Reiff

Former Editor of Inside Kung Fu, screenplay writer and producer Paul Maslak remembers his old friend with this written tribute. Remembering James Lew. In Hollywood circles, they often say that the villains make the movie as much as, and sometimes more than, the heroes. James Lew understood that dictum of drama as well as any actor I’ve worked with. Fortunately for those of us who knew him, he always left the villainy on the set. I had the privilege of casting James in his first starring role, as ‘Jaho,’ the death-touch master in the HBO actioner “Red Sun Rising.” It became HBO’s highest Nielsen-rated world-premiere movie that year (10.3 rating, 15 share), in no small measure because of James’s inspired performance. I remember James Lew as a good-hearted and remarkably unpretentious man, with a quick wit, a male model’s good looks, and brilliant martial arts skills. Whenever he was near, you felt his cheerful warmth, infectious positivity, and steadfast friendship. I also remember James as one of those people who was always willing to step up. If something needed doing and James could do it, he did it with good humor, without complaint, and usually with that smile of his. Looking back now, I realize how many of my memories of him begin exactly that way. My history with James goes back much further than “Red Sun Rising.” I worked with him while I was editor of INSIDE KUNG-FU magazine. Our offices were then on the site of today’s In-N-Out Burger, the one celebrities famously descend upon after the Oscars. Anyway, one day, Jackie Chan unexpectedly showed up for what would become his very first interview in America. Photo courtesy of James Lew archive Naturally, none of the editors were there. That included me, which, as a martial arts editor, was not my finest hour. Hey, I didn’t know he’d come by that day. They were in Hollywood; I was in San Francisco. But James happened to be around. Now, James was many things: a superb martial artist, a stuntman, an aspiring actor, a remarkably good-looking human being, and a kind soul. What he was not, under even the most generous interpretation of the First Amendment, was a journalist. But he was there. We were not. Jackie had brought along a Cantonese interpreter. Our publisher, Curtis Wong, pointed James toward Jackie Chan and, trusting that the chi would be with them, left them to it. James did what James always did. He stepped up. He persevered. Jackie persevered. The interpreter persevered. The interview, though, showed less determination. Let’s just say journalism took the day off. Then, weeks later, I asked James to step in as the fall guy for a Jackie Chan “techniques” magazine photo feature. James was the only guy handy whom I knew could keep up with the now-legendary Chinese opera star turned movie star. And James did. Jackie noticed. James would later work on all three of Jackie’s “Rush Hour” films. Fast-forward a few years. As a personal favor, I again got James to step in, this time as a stunt double to perform a daring aerial cartwheel kick over a hard-slashing sword for the climax of “Ring of Fire.” Not a feat that even the best martial artists could pull off. But James could. Repeatedly. For many, many takes. We were filmmakers. One good take always deserved another. A few years later, my business partner Neva Friedenn and I were heading up our first production as keyman producers, “Red Sun Rising,” starring Don “the Dragon” Wilson, Terry Farrell, Michael Ironside, Mako, Edward Albert, Stony Jackson and, ultimately, James Lew. Photo courtesy of Paul Maslak The story grew out of an idea that came to me while I was editor of INSIDE KUNG- FU. I thought the ninja movies of the day had it all wrong. A modern ninja wouldn’t be running around in 16th-century pajamas wielding primarily 16th-century weapons. The Japanese samurai, the traditional nemesis of the ninja, had largely evolved into policemen. So, I reasoned, maybe the ninja evolved into yakuza assassins. We also gave our modern ninja the infamous Chinese dim mak death touch. Okay, we were not letting cultural consistency get in the way of a good villain. But voilà: Don “the Dragon” Wilson versus James “the Dragonmaster” Lew. I knew almost instantly that I wanted James for the role. But not so fast. Hollywood sometimes takes the scenic route. Even a keyman producer has to gather collaborative support. Our savvy executive producer, Ashok Amritraj, insisted that we go after Jet Li first, which we did. I’d seen Li perform live as a child headliner for the Wushu Troope of the People’s Republic of China at the Kennedy Center in Washington, DC, as well as in his Chinese hit movie “Shaolin Temple.” But he was already signed to make his American debut in a “Lethal Weapon” sequel. Then Ashok insisted that we try Bolo Yeung. Not a bad idea. An “Enter the Dragon” villain. Again, he wasn’t available. Finally, Ashok gave us the go-ahead to open up the casting. Yeah, sure. Neva and I already knew who we wanted. Don “the Dragon” totally concurred. Our last obstacle was convincing our BBC-veteran movie director, Francis Megahy. He needed to see an acting audition, and not just from one candidate. Fair enough. James was spot-on brilliant in his reading. Regardless of our behind-the-scenes nudging, James flat out won that role the old-fashioned way: He earned it. Plain and simple. Photo courtesy of Paul Maslak Actors sometimes use the mental image of an animal to help build a persona for their character. James chose a shark for Jaho. His elegant acting coach to the stars, Ivana Chubbuck, suggested purple contact lenses to help bring that image to life. A shark with purple eyes. Only in Hollywood. Perfect. James graced us with a memorable performance. Certainly, my favorite villain among all the cable-TV movies I produced. His epic showdown with Don “the Dragon,” staged beneath the downtown Los Angeles skyscrapers against the night sky, seemed to leap from the screen. Fight master Art Camacho joined the duo in choreographing something cinematically special. Many years later, in 2017, I reached out to congratulate James on winning an Emmy as stunt coordinator for Marvel’s “Luke Cage” on Netflix. Then James reached out to me when my producing partner, Neva Friedenn, passed away in 2023. And in 2024, James received another richly deserved honor when BLACK BELT magazine inducted him into its Hall of Fame as a recipient of the Martial Arts Stunt Performer Award, alongside fellow Hollywood martial arts veterans Jeff Imada and Simon Rhee. It was nice to see this good guy finally get some glory. And now, on August 23, James passed. It is hard for me to reconcile the James I remember, the man who could fly sideways like a buzz saw over a slashing sword, take after take, with the physical frailty that overtook him toward the end. Time is not gentle even with the strongest among us. But what it could not diminish was the affection James had earned from the people whose lives he touched. I’m told that, at the end, James was surrounded by family and friends who loved him. Somehow, that seems fitting. James spent a lifetime showing up for others. And when his time came, people who loved him showed up for him. I’ll remember the quick wit, the cheerful warmth, the remarkable talent, and the friend who, whenever something needed doing, always seemed willing to step up and say yes. James Lew was a good man and a good friend. He will be missed. Not just by me.

Made in America. Kicking ass and taking names. For this list, Black Belt looked for movies that are fundamentally American in their setting, characters, filmmaking or cultural identity—and, most importantly, movies that had a lasting impact on martial arts fans. When people talk about the greatest martial arts movies of all time, the conversation usually begins in Hong Kong. Bruce Lee. Shaw Brothers. Jackie Chan. Jet Li. Sammo Hung. Gordon Liu. And deservedly so. But America created its own martial arts movie tradition. These were movies filled with muscle cars, pickup trucks, motorcycles, back-alley fights, underground tournaments, cops who didn't exactly follow department policy, high school karate rivalries, American kickboxers, street fighters and heroes who usually had one solution when diplomacy failed: This isn't necessarily a list of the most critically acclaimed films. It's about the movies that made us leave the theater wanting to train. The movies we wore out on VHS. The movies that made an entire generation punch, kick and spin in front of the bedroom mirror. So put on your black belt, fire up the Mustang and cue the training montage. Here are Black Belt's greatest American martial arts movies (made) in America. ABOVE THE LAW — 1988 Shot on location in Chicago Whatever you think about Steven Seagal today, it's difficult to explain to younger fans just how different he looked when Above the Law arrived. Audiences hadn't seen many American action stars move like that. The wrist locks. The throws. The joint manipulations. The economy of movement. And, yes, the attitude. Seagal's Nico Toscani didn't fight like Chuck Norris, Stallone or Schwarzenegger. His aikido-based movement gave American audiences something visually different. Above the Law announced the arrival of a new martial arts movie star almost overnight. For a while, every dojo seemed to have somebody trying those wrist locks. And probably a few kids named Nico. BEST OF THE BEST — 1989 Shot on location in Los Angeles Tommy Lee VS Dae Han ....For martial artists who grew up in the late 1980s and early '90s, this one was personal. Best of the Best wasn't simply about fighting. It was about being a martial artist. Training. Discipline. Teamwork. Sacrifice. Injury. Pride. Respect. Phillip Rhee and Simon Rhee brought genuine martial arts credibility to the screen, while Eric Roberts, James Earl Jones and a memorable ensemble gave the movie emotional weight. And then came that ending. If you were a young martial artist watching Best of the Best, you didn't just want to win. You wanted to earn respect. BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA — 1986 Shot on location in Los Angeles / San Francisco John Carpenter. Kurt Russell. San Francisco's Chinatown. Sorcerers. Monsters. Ghosts. Kung fu. Trucks. And one of the greatest collections of martial artists ever assembled for an American fantasy action movie. Big Trouble in Little China threw everything into the blender and somehow made it work. The movie was underappreciated when it arrived but became a cult classic, influencing generations of filmmakers, stunt performers and martial arts fans. It proved that American martial arts cinema didn't have to take itself seriously. Sometimes you could simply have fun. BLACK BELT JONES — 1974 Shot on location in Los Angeles Jim Kelly didn't just look cool doing martial arts. He helped redefine who could be an American martial arts movie star. One year after exploding onto the screen alongside Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon, Jim Kelly got the chance to take center stage in Black Belt Jones. And he owned it. Directed by Robert Clouse, the man behind Enter the Dragon, Black Belt Jones took the martial arts movie out of Hong Kong and planted it firmly on the streets of Los Angeles. Kelly plays Black Belt Jones, a martial artist who steps in when the mob tries to take control of a neighborhood karate school and the valuable land underneath it. That's really all the story needed. Because the attraction was Jim Kelly. The Afro. The smile. The attitude. The speed. The kicks. Kelly brought something completely different to martial arts cinema. He wasn't trying to be Bruce Lee, Chuck Norris or anybody else. Jim Kelly was Jim Kelly. A legitimate karate practitioner and tournament competitor, Kelly had the skills to back up the swagger. His athletic kicking style looked spectacular on screen, but equally important was the confidence he projected. At a time when there were very few Black action heroes—and even fewer Black martial arts stars—Kelly became an icon. Black Belt Jones also captured a uniquely American moment. The kung fu explosion was colliding with the blaxploitation era, and suddenly martial arts were mixing with funk music, street culture, outrageous clothes and unmistakable 1970s Los Angeles attitude. The result couldn't have been made anywhere else. And the movie gave us one of the most wonderfully bizarre fight scenes of the era: Jim Kelly battling bad guys inside a car wash surrounded by soap and bubbles. Only in the '70s. Kelly would go on to star in films including Three the Hard Way, Hot Potato and Black Samurai, but Black Belt Jones remains the movie that best captured what made him special. He wasn't simply one of the first major Black martial arts movie stars. He was one of America's first true martial arts movie stars. Period. The Afro was iconic. The kicks were real. The attitude was all his own. Jim Kelly was cool before martial arts movies knew how cool they could be. BLADE — 1998 Shot on location in Los Angeles Before the modern superhero movie conquered Hollywood, Wesley Snipes gave us a superhero who could actually kick ass. Blade was dark, stylish, violent and unlike almost anything audiences had seen from a comic-book movie. And at the center of it was Wesley Snipes. Snipes didn't simply look like an action hero. He brought genuine martial arts experience and athleticism to the role, giving Blade a physical credibility that helped separate the character from the muscle-bound superheroes that had come before him. The result was a new kind of American action hero. Part vampire hunter. Part martial artist. Part gunslinger. And 100 percent cool. Released in 1998, Blade arrived just before The Matrix helped transform Hollywood action filmmaking. Together, films like these demonstrated that martial arts choreography could become part of the language of mainstream American blockbusters rather than remain confined to traditional martial arts movies. But Blade deserves another distinction. Years before the Marvel Cinematic Universe became a global phenomenon, Wesley Snipes proved that a Marvel character could carry a successful R-rated action franchise. The sunglasses. The sword. The black leather. The attitude. But underneath all of it was something Black Belt readers immediately recognized: The man could move. Wesley Snipes made martial arts an essential part of Blade's identity—and helped create one of the coolest action heroes of the 1990s. Some superheroes fly. Some shoot lasers. Blade just kicks ass. BLOOD AND BONE — 2009 Shot on location in Los Angeles Sometimes you don't need explosions, superheroes or a $200 million budget. Sometimes you just need Michael Jai White. In Blood and Bone, White does what martial arts fans have always wanted to see him do: fight. And fight. And fight some more. His combination of traditional martial arts technique, athleticism, speed, power and screen presence turned Bone into one of the great modern underground-fighting characters. The movie became a cult favorite because the martial arts never feel like decoration. They're the reason we're watching. CHINA O'BRIEN — 1990 Shot on location in Utah Cynthia Rothrock comes home. Was China O'Brien Cynthia Rothrock's greatest martial arts movie? Probably not. Her Hong Kong films—including Yes, Madam! and Righting Wrongs—gave her opportunities to demonstrate just how extraordinary her martial arts abilities really were. But China O'Brien represents something equally important. It brought Cynthia Rothrock back to America as the star. By the time she returned from Hong Kong, Rothrock had accomplished something few American martial artists—male or female—had ever achieved: she had become a legitimate martial arts movie star in the toughest action-film market in the world. In China O'Brien, she plays a martial artist and former police officer who returns to her small American hometown and discovers corruption has taken control. The solution is pure American martial arts cinema: clean up the town one bad guy at a time. And the movie had serious martial arts pedigree. Behind the camera was Robert Clouse, the director forever connected to one of the most important martial arts movies ever made, Bruce Lee's Enter the Dragon. Alongside Rothrock were fellow martial arts stars Richard Norton and Keith Cooke, giving the film a lineup that martial arts fans immediately recognized. It may not have showcased Rothrock with the same breathtaking intensity as her best Hong Kong work, but China O'Brien became a fan favorite and helped establish her as something America had rarely seen: A female martial artist carrying her own action franchise. For a generation of martial artists—and especially young women looking for someone on screen who could genuinely fight—Cynthia Rothrock wasn't pretending. She was the real deal. JOHN WICK — 2014 Shot on location in New York John Wick didn't just revive Keanu Reeves as an action star. It helped redefine what an American martial arts movie could look like. Wick drives a 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 429, wears a perfectly tailored black suit and goes to war with the Russian underworld after they make the worst possible mistake. But underneath the guns, cars and nightclub lighting is serious martial arts choreography. Judo. Jiu-jitsu. Throws. Joint locks. Grappling. Tactical firearms. The John Wick franchise created its own cinematic fighting language and helped introduce a new generation to an American hybrid of martial arts and action filmmaking. John Wick doesn't need a gi. The suit is his uniform. THE KARATE KID — 1984 Shot on location in "The Valley" Los Angeles You simply can't have this list without it. Few movies in history have done more to put martial arts into American popular culture. Daniel LaRusso. Mr. Miyagi. Cobra Kai. "Wax on, wax off." The crane kick. The Karate Kid wasn't really about winning a tournament. It was about what martial arts could teach a young person about confidence, discipline, restraint and courage. Millions of kids walked out of theaters wanting to take karate. Four decades later, we're still talking about Daniel and Johnny. That's cultural impact. THE LAST DRAGON — 1985 Shot on location in New York Motown meets martial arts in New York City—and somehow it all works. Few martial arts movies could have been made anywhere but America. Produced by Motown founder Berry Gordy, The Last Dragon took kung fu philosophy, Bruce Lee worship, '80s music, outrageous fashion, comedy and the streets of New York City and blended them into one of the most original martial arts movies of the decade. At the center was Taimak as Leroy Green, better known as "Bruce Leroy," a young martial artist searching for the final level of enlightenment—and "the Glow." Standing in his way was one of the greatest martial arts movie villains ever created: Julius Carry's Sho'nuff, the Shogun of Harlem. "Who's the master?" If you grew up in the '80s, you already know the answer. What makes The Last Dragon special is that it never tried to be a Hong Kong kung fu movie. It took the influence of Bruce Lee and Asian martial arts cinema and transformed it into something completely American—New York attitude, Motown music, street culture, comedy and kung fu all rolled into one. Four decades later, Bruce Leroy and Sho'nuff remain part of martial arts pop culture. It had the music. It had the moves. It had the attitude. And most importantly—it had the Glow. LONE WOLF McQUADE — 1983 Shot on location in El Paso Texas Before Walker, there was McQuade. Chuck Norris created perhaps the ultimate American martial arts action hero: a Texas Ranger who drank beer, drove a truck, carried a badge, rode horses and handled bad guys with a combination of firearms and martial arts. And, of course, he did it wearing cowboy boots. The climactic showdown between Norris and David Carradine gave martial arts fans something special: two American martial arts icons finally facing each other on screen. Lone Wolf McQuade wasn't trying to imitate Hong Kong cinema. It was kung fu by way of the American West. What could possibly be more American than that? NO RETREAT, NO SURRENDER — 1986 Shot on location in Los Angeles Small movie. Huge martial arts legacy. No Retreat, No Surrender had everything an '80s martial arts kid could want: karate schools, rivalries, training sequences, Bruce Lee worship and an almost unknown Belgian martial artist named Jean-Claude Van Damme. Van Damme wasn't even the hero. It didn't matter. The moment he started moving, audiences noticed. Directed by Hong Kong action filmmaker Corey Yuen, the film blended American karate culture with Hong Kong action sensibilities. The result became VHS-store royalty. And a star was born. ONLY THE STRONG — 1993 Shot on location in Miami Capoeira. Miami. Mark Dacascos. What a combination. At a time when most American martial arts movies centered on karate, kickboxing or kung fu, Only the Strong introduced many mainstream viewers to the spectacular movement, music and culture of Brazilian capoeira. Dacascos had the athleticism and charisma to make it believable. But underneath the action was something surprisingly heartfelt: a teacher using martial arts to give troubled kids discipline, identity and purpose. More than 30 years later, it still holds up. THE PERFECT WEAPON — 1991 Shot on location in Los Angeles For American kenpo practitioners, The Perfect Weapon was a moment. Jeff Speakman brought Ed Parker's kenpo to mainstream movie screens with combinations that looked dramatically different from the slower, single-technique exchanges audiences were accustomed to seeing. Fast hands. Rapid combinations. Explosive movement. Speakman became a martial arts movie star almost overnight. And for thousands of viewers, The Perfect Weapon was their introduction to American kenpo. RAPID FIRE — 1992 Shot on location in Los Angeles Brandon Lee never had enough time to show us everything he could become. But Rapid Fire gave us a glimpse. Lee combined speed, athleticism, charisma and a natural understanding of how martial arts needed to look on camera. The result was a distinctly early-'90s American action movie with genuine martial arts pedigree. Today the movie is also bittersweet. It reminds us just how much potential Brandon Lee had. REVENGE OF THE NINJA — 1983 Shot on location in Los Angeles The movie that helped turn America ninja crazy. By the early 1980s, American martial arts fans thought they knew what a martial arts hero looked like. Then came Sho Kosugi. After nearly stealing Enter the Ninja as the villain, Kosugi returned in Revenge of the Ninja—this time as the star—and helped unleash one of the biggest martial arts pop-culture crazes of the decade. Set in America, the film follows Kosugi's character, Cho Osaki, who leaves Japan with his young son hoping to build a peaceful new life in the United States. Peace doesn't last long. And that's when the fun begins. For many American moviegoers, Revenge of the Ninja was their real introduction to the weapons, movement and mythology of the ninja. Shuriken. Swords. Smoke. Stealth. Black uniforms. Exotic weapons that sent kids running to martial arts stores asking, "What is that?" The film also carried some serious American karate DNA. Among the martial artists appearing in the film was Keith Vitali, one of the great champions of America's tournament-karate era. Vitali belonged to the generation of American fighters inspired by pioneers such as Mike Stone, whose championship career and larger-than-life presence helped establish the template for the American karate superstar and Stone wrote the orgibal script to launch the series. But Revenge of the Ninja became bigger than one movie. It helped ignite Ninja Mania. Suddenly ninjas were everywhere. Movies. Television. Video games. Comic books. Toys. Halloween costumes. Martial arts magazines. And eventually four pizza-loving turtles who would take the phenomenon somewhere nobody could have imagined. For an entire generation of American kids in the 1980s, the ninja became almost as recognizable as the cowboy. And Sho Kosugi became its face. Chuck had the roundhouse. Bruce had the nunchaku. Sho Kosugi had the ninja—and for a while, every kid in America wanted to be one. RUSH HOUR — 1998 Shot on location in Los Angeles Big stars. Big studio. Big comedy. Big action. Big Hollywood director Brett Ratner. And one very important breakthrough. Jackie Chan had already conquered Asia and become a legend among hardcore martial arts fans, but Rush Hour turned him into a mainstream American superstar. Pairing Chan with Chris Tucker proved that martial arts could anchor a major Hollywood buddy-comedy franchise. The chemistry worked. The fights worked. The comedy worked. And Hollywood suddenly understood what martial arts fans had known for years: Jackie Chan was one of the most entertaining performers on Earth. ROAD HOUSE — 1989 Shot in California, even though the story is set in Missouri Is Road House technically a martial arts movie? We say yes. Patrick Swayze's Dalton is a cooler—a professional bouncer with philosophy, discipline and some extremely effective fighting skills. The movie blends barroom brawling with martial arts choreography and delivers one of American cinema's great action characters. Dalton's philosophy sounds almost like dojo wisdom: Stay calm. Stay professional. Be nice. Until it's time not to be nice. SHOWDOWN IN LITTLE TOKYO — 1991 Shot on location in Los Angeles Dolph Lundgren and Brandon Lee. That alone should get your attention. Showdown in Little Tokyo is unapologetically early-'90s martial arts excess: yakuza, swords, karate, gunfights and enough action-movie attitude to fill three films. It isn't subtle. It isn't supposed to be. Sometimes martial arts cinema exists for one simple reason: To entertain the hell out of you. THE TRANSPORTER — 2002 Shot on location in Miami Jason Statham plus Corey Yuen was a lethal combination. The Transporter took the cool European crime thriller, injected it with Hong Kong martial arts choreography and created another kind of action hero. Frank Martin could drive. He could fight. He could wear a suit. And somehow he could do all three without breaking a sweat. Statham would go on to become one of the world's biggest action stars, but The Transporter established the formula. Looks. Cool. Cars. Fighting skills. Sometimes you really can have it all. WHAT MAKES AN AMERICAN MARTIAL ARTS MOVIE? Hong Kong gave martial arts cinema its language. Japan gave the world generations of samurai cinema. But America took those influences and mixed them with its own mythology. The Western. The cop movie. The high school drama. The gangster film. The sports movie. The superhero. The American martial arts movie became something uniquely its own. Chuck Norris could be a Texas Ranger. Ralph Macchio could be a bullied teenager. Steven Seagal could be a Chicago cop. Michael Jai White could be an underground fighter. Keanu Reeves could be an assassin—or humanity's digital savior. And somewhere along the way, millions of Americans discovered martial arts because they saw someone throw a kick on a movie screen. That's why these films matter. They didn't just entertain us. They made us want to train. And for Black Belt, that's about as good a definition of a great martial arts movie as you're going to get.

Hollywood lost one of its most recognizable martial artists and stunt performers. Black Belt lost a Hall of Famer. And so many of us lost a dear friend. James Lew was the man you remembered: a martial arts master, stuntman, actor, and award-winning stunt coordinator, known by millions and loved by the friends and family who remained by his side until the very end. It didn't matter whether he was on screen for a minute or carrying a major role. James had a presence that stayed with you. The long hair. The intensity. The martial arts. The unmistakable look. And, behind the camera, an extraordinary understanding of how to turn martial arts into action that worked on film. For more than five decades, James helped define the intersection of martial arts and Hollywood. James Lew, Phillp Rhee and Simon Rhee truly the Best of the Best In 2024, Black Belt Magazine inducted James Lew into the Black Belt Hall of Fame alongside Simon Rhee and Jeff Imada in the Stuntman category—the first time the Hall of Fame specifically honored the extraordinary contribution of stunt performers in this way. The reception James received that evening said everything. His peers knew what he had accomplished. Martial artists knew what he represented. Fans knew the face they had watched for decades. But perhaps most importantly, James knew how much he was loved. For those fortunate enough to know him personally, his memory is a blessing. For those who knew him only through the screen, his career is an extraordinary journey through more than half a century of martial arts and Hollywood history. FROM MARTIAL ARTIST TO HOLLYWOOD Long before Hollywood knew his name, James was a martial artist. He began his journey studying kung fu under the renowned Douglas Wong in Southern California, becoming part of a remarkable generation of martial artists emerging in the region. Among those in that circle was Curtis Wong, who would go on to found Inside Kung-Fu magazine. Grandmaster Douglas Wong and the White Lotus Clan featuring a your James and Albert Leong James became a familiar—and formidable—presence on the Southern California tournament circuit during the 1970s, competing in both empty-hand forms and weapons and earning numerous championships. He had charisma even then. His image eventually became a staple of Inside Kung-Fu, appearing on its cover numerous times and helping make James one of the recognizable faces of the era. But another stage was waiting. Hollywood. James began performing on screen and in stunts during the 1970s, with credits reaching back to the era of the original Kung Fu television series starring David Carradine. Photo courtesy of James Lew archive Then came one of the films that would forever connect James to a generation of action-movie fans: Big Trouble in Little China. Photo courtesy of James Lew archive James worked as both a performer and martial arts talent on the production, and his distinctive appearance, movement and screen presence made him impossible to miss. Decades later, fans continued to recognize him from the film. That became a recurring them e throughout his career. James Lew was unforgettable. THE MAN BEHIND THE ACTION Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, James became a fixture of Hollywood action filmmaking. He appeared and worked alongside some of the biggest names of the era and contributed to productions associated with stars including Steven Seagal, Jackie Chan, Dolph Lundgren, Jean-Claude Van Damme and Jeff Speakman. His credits stretched across films and television including Showdown in Little Tokyo, The Perfect Weapon, Double Impact, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and The Crow television series, and the Best of the Best where he appeared with best friend of over 50 years Simon Rhee. The Korean Team from Best of the Best But James evolved far beyond being the martial artist the camera captured. He became one of the people Hollywood trusted behind the camera. Fight choreography. Stunt coordination. Second-unit action. Performance. James understood something very few people truly master: the difference between being able to fight and being able to make a fight tell a story on screen. Over the course of his career, James accumulated more than 140 film and television credits, touching multiple generations of action entertainment. And eventually, the television industry recognized what the martial arts and stunt communities had known for decades. James became a multiple-time Primetime Emmy Award nominee and winner for stunt coordination, with one of his proudest moments coming for his acclaimed work on Marvel's Luke Cage. After spending a lifetime helping other stars look extraordinary, James Lew finally stood on one of Hollywood's biggest stages and was recognized for being extraordinary himself. JAMES LEW LIVED TO THE FULLEST What makes James' final chapter particularly meaningful is that he never stopped being James. During the last months of his life, he continued attending the events and gatherings that meant so much to him, including celebrations surrounding Big Trouble in Little China, DragonFest and the Taurus World Stunt Awards. James with a Who's who of Martial arts legends, Tadashi Yamshita, Mike Stone, Simon Rhee, Phillip Rhee , Chong Lee and George Chung He wanted to be around the community. And the community wanted to be around him. Dragon Fest Aug 2026 That was James. Approachable. Humble. Funny. Gracious. Delighted to see an old friend and equally happy to meet a fan who had watched one of his movies countless times. For all of his accomplishments, James never seemed to forget where he came from. At his core, he loved two worlds: Martial arts and the movies. And somehow, he was fortunate enough to spend his life bringing those two worlds together. NEVER ALONE. NEVER FORGOTTEN. In James' final days, something remarkable happened. Friends gathered at his bedside to say goodbye. Others reached out from around the world. Voices from throughout his life came through the phone to tell him what he had meant to them. Among them were martial arts figures James deeply admired, including Al Dacascos and Mike Stone, who called to tell their friend that they loved him. James was surrounded by the very community he had spent a lifetime helping build. There is something beautiful about that. A stunt performer spends his career making moments look dangerous while quietly protecting everyone around him. James spent decades falling, fighting, coordinating and creating unforgettable moments so audiences could believe in heroes. But in the end, the measure of James Lew's life isn't found in a stunt reel. It is found in the people who showed up. The friends who sat beside him. The people who called. The martial artists he inspired. The stunt performers whose path he helped pave. And the millions of movie and television viewers who may not always have known his name—but certainly remembered his face. James Lew was not alone. He will not be forgotten. In fact, perhaps the most fitting thing we can say about James is the simplest: He was unforgettable. In the words of his best friend James Lew was the most positive person I have ever known. When we were shooting "Best of the Best" in Korea in the winter, all of us were hesitating to get into the ice cold water but James said, Dammit, we are here to do a job, let's do it and do it well", and that fired us all up to do what we were there to do. When we were working with Madonna, he got spit on and instead of getting upset, he made a joke out of it and said, "oooh, how much do you think I can get for this on Ebay?". This is the kind of quality that made James who he was. The ultimate professional when working and always making light of challenging situations to get the job done. His work was his life - even towards the end, he was always ready to go to work. I remember visiting him in the hospital and he thought I was picking him up for a day of filming. He had an illustrious career as a martial artist, stunt professional, stunt coordinator but to me he was my lifelong buddy. Everyone loved him and his personality and positivity set him apart from everyone else. It has been my pleasure being your friend for over almost 50 years, and helping to care for you in the end. When we were shooting "Best of the Best" in Korea in the winter, all of us were hesitating to get into the ice cold water but James said, Dammit, we are here to do a job, let's do it and do it well", and that fired us all up to do what we were there to do. It's time for you to make God smile. Rest in peace, my friend. I'll see you again for dim sum and pie again soon.....SIMON RHEE From all of us at Black Belt Magazine, farewell to our Hall of Famer, our colleague and, most importantly, our friend. Rest in peace, James. Your life was a blessing to us all.

Black Belt's Perspective: More Than a Movie What Enter the Dragon did was open the doors of the dojo to the entire world. Suddenly millions of people who had never attended a tournament, opened a martial arts magazine or stepped inside a school knew what a side kick looked like. They knew the sound of a kiai. They knew the words karate and kung fu. And they knew the name Bruce Lee. But Bruce wasn't the only legacy of Enter the Dragon. The movie introduced Jim Kelly to a worldwide audience. It gave Bolo Yeung an international showcase. It preserved Bob Wall and Pat Johnson during a remarkable era of American karate. It placed members of the Black Karate Federation before millions of moviegoers. It captured Angela Mao during the golden age of Hong Kong martial arts cinema. And hidden among its fighters were Sammo Hung and Jackie Chan — men who would help carry martial arts cinema into its next generation. That's why, 53 years after its release, Enter the Dragon isn't merely a classic martial arts movie. It is a martial arts family album. Some of the people in it became legends. Some became teachers. Some became champions. Some became filmmakers. Some are no longer with us, while others remain living links to an extraordinary moment in martial arts history. Freeze almost any fight scene and you may discover someone whose story extends far beyond the few seconds they spent on screen. The Fighters Who Changed Martial Arts Forever On August 19, 1973, American audiences met Bruce Lee in the film that would forever change the way the world viewed martial arts. Fifty-three years later, Enter the Dragon remains much more than a movie. It is a remarkable snapshot of martial arts history — filled with champions, pioneers and future superstars whose influence can still be felt today. When Enter the Dragon arrived in American theaters, there had never been anything quite like it. Produced as a collaboration between Warner Bros. and Bruce Lee's Concord Productions, directed by Robert Clouse and filmed largely in Hong Kong, the picture combined the scale and polish of a Hollywood action movie with something audiences rarely saw on the big screen: real martial artists performing real martial arts. Bruce Lee wasn't simply playing a fighter. He was one. And he wasn't alone. Look carefully through Enter the Dragon today and the movie becomes an extraordinary gathering of martial arts history. Alongside Hollywood veteran John Saxon were karate champion Jim Kelly, Hong Kong veterans Shih Kien, Angela Mao and Bolo Yeung, American karate pioneers Bob Wall, Pat Johnson, Steve Sanders, Donnie Williams and Darnell Garcia — and, almost hidden in the action, two young Hong Kong performers named Sammo Hung and Jackie Chan. TCM notes that many of the film's extras were actual martial artists and that Lee himself staged the martial arts sequences. Sammo Hung appears opposite Lee near the beginning of the film, while Jackie Chan appears as one of Han's men during the climactic fighting. It is difficult to imagine another martial arts movie containing so many people who would collectively influence the next half-century of the arts. For Black Belt, their stories are as fascinating as the movie itself. BRUCE LEE — THE MAN WHO OPENED THE DOOR Everything begins with Bruce Lee. By 1973, Lee was already a superstar in Asia through The Big Boss, Fist of Fury and The Way of the Dragon. But Enter the Dragon was different. This was the film designed to introduce Bruce Lee as the leading man of a major international Hollywood production. Tragically, Lee never witnessed the phenomenon that followed. He died on July 20, 1973, at only 32 years old. Enter the Dragon reached American audiences less than a month later. What audiences discovered was unlike the conventional screen fighter of the era. Lee was fast, explosive and physically spectacular, but there was also philosophy behind the violence. His movements communicated economy, timing, adaptability and intent. For millions of young viewers, Bruce Lee wasn't merely an action star. He became their first martial arts instructor. Dojo and kung fu school enrollments exploded. Martial arts entered mainstream popular culture. Hollywood's image of the Asian leading man changed. Generations of fighters, actors and stunt performers suddenly had a new reference point. Fifty-three years later, virtually every martial arts action star who followed operates in a world Bruce Lee helped create. JOHN SAXON — THE HOLLYWOOD BRIDGE John Saxon brought something essential to Enter the Dragon: Hollywood credibility. Playing Roper, Saxon wasn't merely an actor pretending to know how to fight. He had studied martial arts before making the film, and his physical ability allowed the filmmakers to present him convincingly alongside Lee and Kelly. Saxon represented the bridge between traditional Hollywood filmmaking and the emerging martial arts movie. His long career would continue across action, horror and television, including A Nightmare on Elm Street. But for martial artists, Roper remains one of his most memorable roles. Saxon died in 2020, but his presence in Enter the Dragon helped demonstrate that martial arts could exist comfortably inside a mainstream American action film. JIM KELLY — A NEW KIND OF HERO Then there was Jim Kelly. Tall, athletic, charismatic and unmistakably cool, Kelly's Williams became one of the most memorable characters in the film. Kelly was a legitimate karate practitioner and champion before becoming a movie star. Hollywood suddenly had something it had rarely seen before: a Black martial arts hero presented as confident, sophisticated and formidable. Enter the Dragon became Kelly's breakthrough and helped lead to starring vehicles including Black Belt Jones. Contemporary accounts of the production specifically identify Kelly as a karate champion recruited to strengthen the film's martial arts credentials. For many young Black martial artists, seeing Kelly standing beside Bruce Lee was enormously significant. Kelly died in 2013, but his image remains iconic — Afro, side kick and attitude included. SHIH KIEN — THE PERFECT MARTIAL ARTS VILLAIN Every great martial arts hero needs a worthy villain. Shih Kien provided one in Han. Already an experienced Hong Kong screen performer, Shih brought menace and authority to a character who could easily have become a caricature. His mechanical hand, underground army and hall of mirrors helped create some of the most recognizable imagery in martial arts cinema. But beneath the theatrical villainy was an experienced martial arts performer. Shih's background gave his movements an authenticity that helped make the final confrontation believable. He died in 2009 at age 96, leaving behind a career stretching far beyond Enter the Dragon. Yet around the world, Han remains his defining role. BOLO YEUNG — THE PHYSIQUE THAT BECAME A TRADEMARK Before Bloodsport, before Chong Li and before decades of appearances at martial arts conventions, there was Bolo. Credited at the time as Yang Sze, Bolo Yeung barely needed dialogue. His extraordinary physique told audiences everything they needed to know. As Han's imposing enforcer, Bolo became one of the film's most unforgettable physical presences. The role helped establish the screen persona Yeung would perfect over the following decades: the massively powerful martial arts antagonist capable of intimidating an opponent before throwing a punch. For a later generation, he would become equally identified with Jean-Claude Van Damme's Bloodsport. But Enter the Dragon introduced international audiences to the man who would become one of martial arts cinema's most recognizable villains. JACKIE CHAN — BLINK AND YOU MAY MISS A FUTURE SUPERSTAR One of the joys of revisiting Enter the Dragon is spotting Jackie Chan. He wasn't a star. He wasn't even a featured player. He was a young stunt performer appearing among Han's men during the massive underground battle. Bruce Lee dispatches him quickly. Nobody watching that scene in 1973 could reasonably have imagined that the young stuntman would eventually become one of the most internationally successful action stars in cinema history. Chan would ultimately develop a screen identity almost opposite Lee's: humor, vulnerability, spectacular stunt work and fights built around improvisation with the surrounding environment. Yet there he is in Enter the Dragon, one generation literally colliding with the next. SAMMO HUNG — THE MAN FIGHTING BRUCE AT THE BEGINNING Before audiences even reach Han's island, they see another future legend. The fighter facing Bruce Lee during the opening sequence is Sammo Hung. That scene many credit as the first glimpse of MMA, martial arts, boxing and grappling and Lee wins the match with a tap out not the stereotypical kick or punch. Hung would become one of the most important figures in Hong Kong action cinema — actor, director, producer, choreographer and action filmmaker. His career would help define the extraordinary Hong Kong action boom that followed Bruce Lee. That makes the opening sequence historically fascinating. It isn't simply Bruce Lee demonstrating his martial arts. It is Bruce Lee facing a young Sammo Hung — two enormously influential figures in Asian action cinema sharing the screen before the audience fully understood what either man's legacy would become. ANGELA MAO — THE WOMAN WARRIOR Angela Mao appears as Su Lin, Lee's sister, and although her screen time is limited, martial arts fans already knew — or would soon discover — that Mao was far more than a supporting actress. She became one of Hong Kong cinema's most important female martial arts stars. Her presence in Enter the Dragon also reminds modern audiences that women were part of the martial arts movie revolution from its earliest days. Long before today's generation of female action heroes, Angela Mao was demonstrating that women could carry martial arts pictures themselves. BOB WALL — FROM THE TOURNAMENT FLOOR TO BRUCE LEE'S ENEMY Bob Wall represented another important dimension of the film: the connection between Hollywood and America's rapidly growing karate tournament scene. Wall was a genuine karate champion and part of the Southern California martial arts community that included Chuck Norris and Pat Johnson. As O'Hara — the scar-faced fighter responsible for the death of Lee's sister — Wall participated in one of the movie's most brutal confrontations. Their battle felt different because both men understood fighting. Wall continued teaching, appearing in films and remaining a highly visible member of the martial arts community for decades. He died in 2022, but his association with Bruce Lee and Enter the Dragon remained an important part of his legacy. PAT JOHNSON — THE MAN WHO WOULD HELP DEFINE THE KARATE KID Martial artists should look closely at the early golf-course scene involving Roper. One of the thugs is Pat E. Johnson. Johnson was already part of the formidable Chuck Norris martial arts circle. But his influence on Hollywood martial arts would eventually extend far beyond his small appearance in Enter the Dragon. He became one of the industry's most respected martial arts choreographers and trainers and would become deeply associated with The Karate Kid, helping translate traditional karate into choreography that millions of moviegoers could understand. Johnson died in 2023, but his fingerprints remain on some of America's most enduring martial arts films. DARNELL GARCIA — A BLACK BELT MAGAZINE CHAMPION ON SCREEN Darnell Garcia's inclusion is especially meaningful from Black Belt's perspective. Garcia was a serious American karate competitor who trained in the Chuck Norris system and defeated Joe Lewis to win the Grand Championship at the 1972 International Karate Championships in Long Beach. Just months before Enter the Dragon reached theaters, Garcia appeared on the February 1973 cover of Black Belt. In the film he appears alongside Pat Johnson and Mike Bissell as one of the men confronting Roper on the golf course. For today's viewer it may look like a small role. Historically, it is something more. It was another example of Enter the Dragon drawing directly from the authentic American tournament karate community rather than simply casting actors and teaching them a few techniques. STEVE SANDERS — THE BLACK KARATE FEDERATION ON THE BIG SCREEN Another historically important appearance comes during Williams' introduction. Steve Sanders — later known as Steve Muhammad — was one of the pioneering figures behind the Black Karate Federation. In Enter the Dragon, Sanders appears as the BKF instructor training students as Jim Kelly's Williams prepares to leave for Hong Kong. Donnie Williams also appears as an assistant instructor. That brief scene carried enormous cultural significance. The BKF had been created during an era when Black competitors faced significant barriers within American tournament karate. Seeing Black martial artists training together in a major Hollywood production gave audiences around the world a glimpse of a genuine martial arts movement taking place in Los Angeles. Sanders became known for his speed, his teaching and his development of BKF Kenpo concepts. DONNIE WILLIAMS — ANOTHER PIECE OF AMERICAN KARATE HISTORY Donnie Williams' appearance is brief but historically significant. Williams was another pioneering member of the Black Karate Federation and appears during the BKF sequence as an assistant instructor. His connection to martial arts continued well beyond the film. He later won the overall title at the 1977 International Karate Championships in Long Beach and continued working in films and fight choreography. Again, Enter the Dragon wasn't merely borrowing the appearance of martial arts. It was putting actual members of America's karate community on the screen. MORE LEGENDS HIDING IN PLAIN SIGHT Even this list doesn't tell the entire story. Look deeper into the cast and stunt performers and you'll find Yuen Wah and Yuen Biao, two more names that would become deeply important to Hong Kong martial arts cinema. That's what makes Enter the Dragon extraordinary 53 years later. The film wasn't assembled around Hollywood actors who happened to learn some fighting for a movie. It brought together martial artists who happened to be making a movie. Bruce Lee. Jim Kelly. Bob Wall. Angela Mao. Bolo Yeung. Sammo Hung. Jackie Chan. Pat Johnson. Steve Sanders. Donnie Williams. Darnell Garcia. Different systems. Different countries. Different backgrounds. Different futures. But for a brief moment in 1973, they occupied the same piece of film. For Black Belt, perhaps that is the enduring importance of Enter the Dragon. The movie did not create martial arts. The arts had existed for centuries, and the American karate tournament scene was already thriving. Bruce Lee may have entered the dragon in 1973. But the remarkable collection of martial artists who entered with him helped change popular culture forever.

Food is very important when you’re traveling—one wrong meal can strand you in your hotel room, far from the tatami mats and beach-front heavy bags you were planning to spend your time on. One of the most common food-related maladies that can sideline you is traveler’s diarrhea. It’s estimated to affect 30 percent of those who spend time abroad. Although it’s often mild, the affliction can be quite severe, which is all the more reason to pay attention to the details of your meals. The rule is basic: If you’re in a country where drinking water is not safe, stick with cooked foods. Remember that raw fruits and vegetables have probably been exposed to the same water you’re trying to avoid. When in doubt, rely on heat treatment to kill those nasties. IF YOU’RE LIKE MOST martial artists, you keep track of the protein, carbohydrate and fat content of your meals. Visiting a foreign land can force you to alter the ratios you’re used to based on food availability. If the culture you’re in leans toward exotic foods you’ve never tried, eat more carbs (bread, rice and potatoes); they’re digested easily and will keep you feeling full. If you’re planning to train heavily or compete, you’ll need to pay extra attention to dietary details. Your energy needs never change, so strive to keep the same percentages of protein, carbs and fat in your diet, if possible from the same sources. Don’t try a new and exotic “fun food” right before an important performance because you never know how it’ll affect you. Example: Many people are allergic to jackfruits and exotic berries, but they don’t know it because they never eat them at home. If your schedule permits, arrive in your destination country four to seven days before you’ll start your training or step into the ring. That will give you time to determine if your body is sensitive to local foods. Bonus: You’ll be more accustomed to the environment, too. If you think caution is keeping you from consuming all the nutrients you need, grab some Pedialyte from a grocery store. Intended for babies, this nutrient-rich drink has been used by traveling fighters for years. Other brands of baby beverages can serve the same function, as well as provide energy before a fight. MY FINAL BIT OF food advice for martial artists about to leave their home country is to remember that respecting a culture isn’t just about bowing and gesturing; it’s also about how you accept and eat food. In Japan, if you put down your chopsticks incorrectly, it can be seen as an insult. In Africa, some tribes expect you to eat with your hands. In Russia, it’s impolite not to drink with your hosts. In Greece, it’s rude to refuse an invitation to dine in someone’s home. In Israel, mixing dairy and meat may conflict with religious beliefs. In many traditional countries, men eat before women. When you’re outside your homeland, you’re a representative of not only your country but also the martial arts. Attention to detail will go a long way toward being accepted and getting the most out of your trip. You can learn much of what you need to know from a good guidebook. The rest you can pick up from watching the locals and doing as they do—even if you’re not in Rome.

The documentary I Am Bruce Lee asserts that he’s the father of mixed martial arts. Some agree with that claim. Others don’t. The irony is that Bruce Lee might not have wanted the title. As much as he enjoyed his fame, he was a devout iconoclast. To name anybody the father of anything could be the first step in calling a person or style infallible—a notion Lee could never get behind. Regardless, the claim made in the documentary sparked debate across the martial arts community, with heavy names weighing in on both sides of the issue. SOME DEFINITIONS All good debates begin by defining terms—otherwise, you might wind up arguing for hours with people you agree with. For the purposes of this conversation, the term “mixed martial arts” refers specifically to competitive MMA as practiced in the UFC’s octagon. That’s not to say this is the only valid definition of the term, but it’s certainly the definition they meant in the documentary. One look at the clips played during the infamous segment, one listen to the comments in the voice-over and one glance at the roster of interviewees will make that clear. “Father” is the other key term in this debate. To define it, we need to look at the traits that make MMA what it is—and see how many we can trace back to Lee’s training and philosophy. MIXING TECHNIQUES “Bruce was mixing stuff when that was a sin,” says jeet kune do authority Ron Balicki, referring to the competition between traditional martial arts during Lee’s life. Teachers of a given style considered all aspects of their art superior to every aspect of all other arts. To adopt an idea from a rival style was pure heresy. Lee, of course, ignored that dogma. He chose to adopt whatever he admired from wherever he could find it. UFC President Dana White reflects on the similarities between Lee’s approach and modern MMA: “You take the good things from every different discipline. You use what works for you, and you throw the rest away. That’s what MMA is all about. There is no style but the one that works and gets the job done.” What he describes is identical to the JKD maxim of “take what is useful and discard the rest.” In drawing from multiple styles, Lee’s art is clearly a precursor of MMA. But was it the first? Lee developed the concepts he’d ultimately name “jeet kune do” in the mid-1960s, decades before the UFC and MMA as we understand it came into being. This was the same period during which Ed Parker drew from different systems to develop kenpo and a few years after Gene LeBell fought Milo Savage in the world’s first televised multi-discipline fight. Adriano Emperado, Joe Holck, Peter Young Yil Choo, Frank Ordonez and George Chang hammered kajukenbo together from eight different arts nearly 20 years earlier. Although one can legitimately argue that Lee fathered MMA, he’s not the only—or the strongest—candidate. ELIMINATING CANON Lee made it clear that his JKD was not his students’ JKD, that blind obedience to any given canon was disastrous for the development of a fighter. This philosophy also lies at the heart of MMA training. Jon Jones fights a different game than does B.J. Penn, and neither fights like Renzo Gracie. An MMA fighter takes the parts of different styles that best suit his physiology, background and temperament—then adds elements that are likely to work against his next opponent. In this aspect of MMA’s ancestry, Lee stands out. While other artists worked with multiple arts, none was so vocal about abandoning the restrictions of style in favor of effectiveness and personal development. Even other pioneers of mixing techniques chose to blend those techniques into new styles, each of which came with its own restrictive canon. COMBATIVE FOCUS Lee loved to watch boxing but would mock sport fighting and similar noncombative displays of martial prowess. He’d say you can’t learn to swim while walking on land and you can’t learn to fight by doing anything other than fighting. MMA is pretty close to actual combat, but it’s still a game with rules. Some techniques are banned, and some that don’t work in combat are emphasized because the structure of competition makes them advantageous. There’s a ref to keep things from getting out of hand, and your opponent’s buddies will never jump in if it looks like you’re winning. Were Lee alive today, it’s likely he’d have loved watching MMA matches as much as he did boxing. He’d have especially enjoyed the boost MMA has given to the martial arts in general. He might have been chagrined at being called the father of a new genre of sport fighting—but then no father approves of every aspect of his child. EFFECT ON THE CULTURE As his film career soared, Lee’s persona boosted the popularity of the martial arts around the world. American kids stopped playing John Wayne and bought a pair of nunchaku. Fighting arts from karate to kung fu to judo became mainstream. That’s why Balicki calls Lee the “Jimi Hendrix of martial arts.” Hendrix didn’t invent the guitar, but you can still find his poster on dormroom walls across the country—often right next to a poster of Bruce Lee. White calls Lee “the guy who changed martial arts forever.” Half the men and women fighting in MMA are doing so because of Lee—even if they don’t know it. Some younger fighters might think they got into it because of Jet Li or Cung Le, but both those stars fight because of Bruce Lee. Without his influence, it’s entirely possible the world wouldn’t have embraced the UFC when it premiered in the United States in 1993. MMA as we know it might never have had a chance to evolve. THE VERDICT JKD instructor and author Tim Tackett points to the opening scene of Enter the Dragon as conclusive evidence of Lee’s influence on MMA. Lee begins a standup sparring match before transitioning to the ground, where he wins by submission. Years before an octagon was anything but a traffic sign, Lee imagined, choreographed and filmed the progression of a typical MMA bout. On the other hand … Emperado and his colleagues were busy mixing martial arts nearly two decades before Lee started, in many ways clearing the ground Lee would later cultivate. LeBell was switching between wrestling and judo at the same time. Meanwhile in Brazil, the Gracies were doing their thing to popularize their family’s way of fighting in challenge matches against practitioners of other arts, and their contribution may be larger in terms of actual awareness and audience. Bruce Lee isn’t the only potential proud papa where MMA is concerned. In the end, the question is similar to Lee’s martial creation. Jeet kune do uses fast punches, but not as fast as those of a professional boxer. It uses precise, fluid footwork, but it’s like that of a champion fencer. It’s not a specialist’s style; rather, it’s a combination of the best of what many disciplines have to offer, rolled into a package that’s effective, profound and enduring. So it is with Bruce Lee as the father of MMA. Other martial artists might have better claim to any one aspect of what the title means, but when you look for someone with a genuine claim to all those attributes, only Lee fits the bill.

Every great martial arts community has its pioneers—individuals whose dedication, vision, and leadership forever change the landscape. In Australia, few names command as much respect as Hanshi Constantino "Tino" Ceberano, OAM. We celebrate not only a legendary martial artist, but also a man whose influence helped establish traditional karate throughout Australia. It's only fitting that Hanshi Ceberano graced the cover of Blitz Martial Arts Magazine, a publication that inspired generations of Australian martial artists and documented the country's rich martial arts history. Born on September 24, 1941, on the Hawaiian island of Kauai to Filipino immigrant parents, Ceberano's martial arts journey began with boxing and judo before he discovered karate. What captivated him wasn't simply learning how to fight—it was karate's philosophy. "I was immediately attracted to karate's discipline, its intricate breathing methods, and the principles of mutual respect." Those principles would guide him for the next six decades. After earning his black belt in Gōju Kai Karate while serving in the United States Marine Corps, Ceberano's life changed forever when legendary Gōju Kai founder Gōgen Yamaguchi, known worldwide as "The Cat," personally asked him to relocate to Australia. In 1966, Hanshi Ceberano arrived in Melbourne with a mission: to establish Gōju Kai Karate across Australia. At the time, karate was still in its infancy in Australia. Through tireless teaching, demonstrations, and instructor development, Ceberano helped lay the foundation for what would become one of the country's most respected traditional karate communities. His dojo at Monash University became a hub for serious practitioners, and countless instructors trace their lineage back to his guidance. Yet Hanshi Ceberano never saw martial arts as simply learning punches and kicks. His philosophy centered on character, humility, and lifelong learning. Whether teaching beginners or senior black belts, his emphasis remained the same: technical excellence must always be matched by respect, integrity, and discipline. Following the passing of Gōgen Yamaguchi in 1989, Ceberano was entrusted by senior Gōju Kai officials to establish his own organization, the International Gōju Karatedo (IGK), allowing him to preserve the traditions of Okinawan Goju-ryu while continuing to evolve as an instructor and mentor. Over the decades, Hanshi Ceberano has achieved the rank of 9th Dan, served on the Australasian Sokeship Council, appeared in film, and, in 2019, was awarded the Medal of the Order of Australia (OAM) in recognition of his outstanding service to martial arts and the Australian community. For thousands of students, however, his greatest achievement isn't found in his titles or accolades. It's found in the lives he has influenced. As we celebrate this classic Blitz Martial Arts Magazine cover, we also celebrate a man whose quiet leadership, unwavering standards, and lifelong commitment helped shape Australian martial arts for generations.From Hawaii to Melbourne...From Gōju to Guro...From student to Hanshi... Hanshi Tino Ceberano's legacy continues to inspire martial artists around the world.Did you ever train with Hanshi Ceberano or attend one of his seminars? Share your memories below as we celebrate one of Australia's true martial arts pioneers.#ThrowbackSunday #BlitzMagazine #BlackBeltMagazine #TinoCeberano #GojuKai #Karate #AustralianMartialArts #MartialArtsHistory #Hanshi #GojuRyu #MartialArtsLegend

As martial artists increasingly look for something more authentic than points, forms and trophies, Karate Combat may be leading traditional karate back toward one of its oldest promises: proving that the techniques actually work. Photo courtesy of Karate Combat For generations, karate practitioners have debated a deceptively simple question: Would it work in a real fight? It is a question that has followed the martial arts almost from the moment karate moved from the dojo into organized competition. Point fighting demonstrated speed, timing and precision. Kata preserved technique, discipline and tradition. Kickboxing brought karate practitioners into the ring. Mixed martial arts later created perhaps the ultimate laboratory for testing fighting systems against one another. But somewhere along the way, a gap developed. Millions continued practicing traditional karate, while much of the combat-sports audience migrated toward boxing, kickboxing and MMA. Photo courtesy of Karate Combat Karate Combat is attempting to close that gap. Launched in 2018, Karate Combat was conceived as a professional full-contact platform where elite karate practitioners could actually fight while maintaining a recognizable connection to karate. The organization describes itself today as the world's premier full-contact striking league, featuring elite black belts, national champions and Olympic-level competitors. That distinction is important. Karate Combat isn't simply MMA with karate pants. And it isn't traditional point karate with harder punches. It occupies a fascinating space somewhere between the two. THE PIT CHANGES EVERYTHING The first thing viewers notice is the fighting environment. Photo courtesy of Karate Combat There is no traditional boxing ring and no MMA cage. Instead, competitors enter The Pit, Karate Combat's distinctive fighting surface surrounded by angled walls. Visually, it feels almost like something taken from a martial arts movie or video game. Functionally, however, it changes the fight. There are no ropes to lean against and no cage to stall against in the conventional MMA sense. Fighters can use the geometry of the Pit while attacking, defending and maneuvering. More importantly, the rules encourage action. Photo courtesy of Karate Combat Karate Combat uses four-ounce gloves and a 10-point-must scoring system, while emphasizing effective fighting, aggression, striking and control. Its current rules permit a broad arsenal of karate-based striking, including punches, hand strikes and kicks to the head and body, along with kicks to the thighs and calves. Takedowns also have a place within the system. The result is something immediately recognizable as karate — but karate under pressure. Distance matters. Timing matters. Footwork matters. A reverse punch that might score a point in traditional competition now has to stop a fighter who is trying to knock you out. A spinning kick isn't impressive because of its difficulty. It is impressive because it lands. That difference goes to the heart of what Karate Combat represents. Photo courtesy of Karate Combat FROM IPPON TO KNOCKOUT Traditional karate competition developed around the concept that a properly executed technique could represent a decisive blow. In point competition, the referee stops the action and awards the technique. Karate Combat asks a different question: What happens if we don't stop? That changes everything. The karate fighter who has spent years developing explosive entry, distance and speed now has to deal with combinations, sustained pressure, leg kicks, takedowns and an opponent who keeps coming after the first exchange. That requires adaptation. But adaptation does not necessarily mean abandoning karate. It may actually reveal which parts of karate remain most effective when the safety net of point fighting disappears. And that is one reason Karate Combat matters far beyond the promotion itself. THE RETURN OF “BLOOD-AND-GUTS” KARATE Longtime readers of Black Belt will recognize that none of this is entirely new. There was a period in American martial arts when the phrase “blood-and-guts karate” carried real meaning. The phrase wasn't necessarily about recklessness or injuring training partners. It represented an attitude. Training was hard. Sparring was hard. Black belts were expected to be able to fight. The early tournament era produced competitors who frequently crossed stylistic lines, while the emergence of professional full-contact karate and kickboxing in the 1970s gave fighters another arena in which to test whether their techniques could survive sustained contact. Those generations helped create the DNA of modern combat sports. Before MMA became a global industry, karate fighters, kickboxers and other martial artists were already asking: What happens when we remove some of the restrictions? Karate Combat is asking that question again — only for a new generation. THE MMA GENERATION CHANGED THE MARTIAL ARTS The rise of the UFC permanently changed how martial artists think about fighting. Today's students have grown up watching fighters punch, kick, wrestle and grapple under pressure. They have access to thousands of hours of fight footage. They can analyze techniques instantly on YouTube, Instagram and TikTok. That has created a more skeptical martial arts consumer. It is increasingly difficult to tell a 20-year-old martial artist that a technique is devastating simply because tradition says it is. They want to see it. They want to test it. And increasingly, they want to feel it for themselves. That doesn't mean traditional martial arts are disappearing. It may mean the opposite. Traditional martial arts may be entering another evolutionary period in which practitioners want to preserve the philosophy, culture and technical identity of their systems while simultaneously demanding greater combat realism. Karate Combat fits directly into that movement. NOT MMA — AND THAT MAY BE THE POINT Karate does not need to become MMA to prove its relevance. That may be Karate Combat's greatest opportunity. Mixed martial arts answers the question: Who is the best fighter under MMA rules? Karate Combat can answer a different question: What does karate look like when karate fighters are allowed to truly fight? Those are not the same thing. A karate practitioner entering MMA must devote enormous amounts of time to wrestling, submissions, cage work and ground fighting. Eventually, the fighter may still possess a karate base, but stylistically he or she becomes an MMA fighter. Karate Combat offers another pathway. The objective isn't to determine whether karate can defeat every other martial art. The objective is to discover how far karate itself can evolve while remaining karate. That is a much more interesting experiment. A PROFESSIONAL DESTINATION FOR KARATE FIGHTERS There is another reason the development of Karate Combat deserves attention. For decades, elite karate competitors faced a difficult professional reality. A competitor could win national championships, international championships and even become one of the best karate athletes in the world — yet have relatively few opportunities to earn a living specifically as a karate fighter. Some transitioned into kickboxing. Others moved into MMA. Many simply retired. When Karate Combat launched, part of its stated purpose was to create a professional destination for elite karate athletes and allow them to build international followings while competing for world championships. That concept could ultimately prove as significant as the fights themselves. Because professional opportunity changes sports. If young karate practitioners can look at a professional league and think: “I could fight there someday,” the entire development system begins to change. Coaches train differently. Athletes prepare differently. Promoters invest differently. Fans follow fighters rather than merely organizations. And karate begins producing professional combat-sports personalities. BLACK BELT AND THE NEXT GENERATION OF FULL-CONTACT MARTIAL ARTS This is precisely where Black Belt believes there is a larger story to tell. Since its earliest years, Black Belt has documented the evolution of martial arts — traditional karate, kung fu, taekwondo and judo through the full-contact revolution, kickboxing, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, MMA and today's rapidly changing combat-sports landscape. The next chapter should not simply be about choosing traditional martial arts versus modern combat sports. It should be about where they intersect. Through expanded editorial coverage, interviews, historical features, technical breakdowns, digital video and the continued development of the Black Belt media platform, we intend to increasingly spotlight organizations, fighters and teachers who are testing traditional martial arts in demanding environments. Karate Combat represents an important part of that conversation. We want to examine the techniques. We want to talk to the champions. We want to talk to the traditional karate masters watching those champions. We want to understand what works, what has changed and what traditional karate can learn from fighters competing under full-contact conditions. And we want to follow the young martial artists who may become the next generation of professional karate fighters. THE CIRCLE MAY BE CLOSING Martial arts continually evolve. Traditional karate produced sport karate. Sport karate helped produce full-contact karate. Full-contact karate helped fuel kickboxing. Kickboxing, wrestling, jiu-jitsu and other arts helped create modern MMA. And now, after decades of evolution, combat sports may be influencing traditional martial arts to rediscover something that was there from the beginning: The ability to fight. Karate Combat isn't abandoning karate tradition. In many ways, it is putting that tradition under examination. Can the stance work? Can the distance work? Can the blitz work? Can the reverse punch work? Can the side kick stop someone coming forward? Can traditional timing survive sustained pressure? There is only one convincing way to find out. Fight. That is why Karate Combat deserves the attention of the traditional martial arts world — and why Black Belt intends to follow its evolution closely. The uniforms may have changed. The arenas may have changed. The production may look futuristic. But underneath it all is a question martial artists have been asking for generations: Does your karate work when someone is really trying to hit you? For a new generation of karate fighters entering the Pit, the answer isn't going to come from theory. They're going to prove it.

For Dan Rizzuto, martial arts was never just about learning how to fight. It was an escape route. Growing up in a rough neighborhood in Edmonton, Alberta, he describes a childhood filled with the kind of mischief that often comes from having too little guidance and too few opportunities. Many of the friends he grew up with eventually found themselves in prison, addicted to drugs or alcohol, or victims of violence. Rizzuto believes his path could have easily ended the same way. Instead, it led him to a kickboxing gym beneath a blood dripping butcher shop. A gym called Panther Gym. That unlikely beginning eventually took him around the world. He trained with some of martial arts’ biggest names, went on to coordinate stunts and choreograph fights for blockbuster action films, and trained, worked with A-list actors such as Tom Hardy, Jason Momoa, Nic Cage, and Karl Urban to name a few. He has coordinated and choreographed for stars including Viola Davis, Wesley Snipes, Jensen Ackles, Iko Uwais, Jennifer Lopez. He’s now also directing and has sold several scripts and continues to work as an action ghost writer, establishing himself as one of Hollywood’s known action designers. Yet if you ask him what changed his life, he won't mention a movie set. He'll tell you about getting submitted in 27 seconds. The Loss That Changed Everything As a teenage kickboxing champion, Rizzuto considered himself a tough fighter. That confidence disappeared almost instantly after Ron Balicki, at one of his seminars, encouraged him to travel to California and compete in a Shoot Wrestling match at the Inosanto Academy. Keep in mind Rizzuto had no idea what Shoot Wrestling was. "I just knew how to punch people, and hurt them" he recalled. “How hard can it be?” Seconds into the match, his opponent launched into a flying armbar. Before Rizzuto fully understood what had happened, he was on the mat in pain. Not knowing what tapping even was, the referee, Shooto USA founder Yori Nakamura, had to stop the fight before Rizzuto’s arm was broken. For many competitors, such a defeat might have been discouraging. For Rizzuto, it became an obsession. "If someone could beat me that fast," he said, "I had to learn what it was." That moment ignited a lifelong pursuit of knowledge rather than victories. Betting Everything on Heart Not long afterward, Rizzuto set his sights on joining Frank Shamrock's renowned team at AKA. He didn't have money. He didn't have connections. He bought a $45 Greyhound ticket and endured a 27-hour bus ride just for an opportunity to try out. During the grueling evaluation, he dislocated his knee and broke his ankle—but refused to quit. During the tryouts, Shamrock delivered a lesson Rizzuto still carries today. While laying on the ground waiting for the next round’s buzzer to ring Frank leaned over him…. "I don't care if you can fight," Shamrock told him. "I'll teach you how to fight. I care about what's in here." He pointed to Rizzuto's heart. That single moment became the foundation for everything that followed. Andy Cheng, Diana Lee Inosanto, and Dan Rizzuto Martial Arts Opened Every Door Rizzuto's fighting background naturally led him into stunt work. Early opportunities came through martial artists like Ron Balicki and Diana Lee Inosanto before expanding into bodyguard work on Dark Angel. Mentors including Mike Mitchell, James Bamford and Kimani Ray Smith, eventually trusted him with opportunities in fight choreography, and one opportunity snowballed into another. Looking back, he credits martial arts—not Hollywood—as the true architect of his career. "Without martial arts," he said, "I wouldn't have any of this." Beyond Violence Although audiences know Rizzuto for explosive action sequences, his perspective on martial arts is surprisingly introspective. He argues that combat sports provide something modern society often lacks: a healthy outlet. Humans, he believes, still possess primal instincts. Without positive avenuesto channel them, those instincts often emerge through destructive behavior. "Martial arts isn't about beating people up," he explained. "It's about expression." That philosophy eventually became the driving force behind one of his newest projects: TheReactionLab.com The Reaction Lab aims to mentor aspiring performers, provide practical education about the film industry and create the kind of guidance Rizzuto wishes he'd had while getting into the industry. Success Means Giving Back Throughout the conversation, one theme surfaced repeatedly. Gratitude. Rizzuto speaks about mentors such as Frank Shamrock, Ron Balicki, and Diana Lee Inosanto not simply because of their accomplishments, but because they invested in younger artists. Now he hopes to pass it forward. "The seminars are my way of giving back," he said. Watching someone land their first professional stunt job often feels more rewarding than his own achievements. The Industry Runs on Trust For martial artists hoping to transition into stunt work, Rizzuto offered practical advice that cuts through the glamour often associated with Hollywood. Networking matters. Mentorship matters. Trust matters even more. A stunt coordinator isn't simply hiring talent—they're trusting someone with actors' safety, production schedules and millions of dollars. No impressive Instagram clip can replace a reputation built through professionalism, humility and consistency. His advice is refreshingly simple: Be honest. Train relentlessly. Develop skills beyond martial arts. Understand cameras. Learn set etiquette. Become someone others genuinely want to work with. Stand your ground. The Infinite Game Despite coordinating major productions and checking off nearly every career goal he once dreamed about, Rizzuto doesn't speak like someone chasing accolades. He speaks like someone still learning. Today his ambitions stretch beyond bigger action films. He's building educational resources. Developing online courses. Writing scripts that explore deeper themes than violence alone. His next creative chapter, he says, is about telling stories with purpose. Because in the end, martial arts gave him much more than a profession. It gave him direction. And now he's determined to help others find theirs. As a member of the DGA he is also pushing his own projects, he’s traveled to such places as Jakarta, Indonesia, to shoot a pilot for an upcoming action film, and is currently in talks to direct a very heartfelt personal script he has written geared towards creating a prospective change for troubled youth. For more information on Dan Rizzuto and his projects, visit danrizzuto.com and thereactionlab.com

The martial arts world has lost one of its greatest standard-bearers. On August 3, 2026, Hanshi Hatsuo Royama passed away at the age of 78, closing a remarkable chapter in the history of Kyokushin-Kan Karate. For more than six decades, Royama embodied the spirit of Osu no Seishin—the perseverance, humility, and indomitable fighting spirit that defined the teachings of Kyokushin founder Mas Oyama. To many, he was a world champion. To thousands of students, he was a teacher. To the history of karate, he was one of the last direct links to the generation that transformed Kyokushin from a small Tokyo dojo into one of the most influential full-contact martial arts systems in the world. A Teenager Who Found His Calling Born on March 31, 1948, Royama entered Mas Oyama's original dojo in 1963 at just fifteen years old. The training was legendary for its intensity. Students endured endless rounds of kumite, grueling conditioning, and a culture where discipline was earned through action rather than words. Few remained. Royama not only survived—he flourished. Under Oyama's direct instruction, he became one of the organization's most respected young fighters, developing a reputation for technical precision, exceptional conditioning, and an unwavering determination that reflected the very essence of Kyokushin. Royama with Mas Oyama circa early 1960s Those who trained with him often remarked that Royama never sought shortcuts. Every achievement was earned through relentless repetition, respect for tradition, and a belief that karate was a lifelong pursuit of character rather than simply victory. The Champion Who Changed Fighting Royama announced himself to the martial arts world in 1973 by capturing the prestigious 5th All Japan Open Karate Championship, one of the toughest tournaments in combat sports. Two years later, he cemented his reputation by finishing runner-up at the inaugural World Open Karate Championship, competing against the finest Kyokushin practitioners from around the globe. While his tournament victories were extraordinary, Royama's influence extended far beyond medals. He became synonymous with one technique that forever changed full-contact karate—the devastating gedan mawashi geri, the low roundhouse kick delivered to the opponent's thigh. Although low kicks had existed previously, Royama refined and demonstrated their effectiveness at the highest level of competition. His precision, timing, and relentless application transformed the technique into one of Kyokushin's defining weapons. Today, virtually every striking sport—from Kyokushin and kickboxing to Muay Thai and mixed martial arts—recognizes the importance of attacking the legs. Royama helped make that approach a fundamental part of modern combat. Preserving the Spirit of Mas Oyama Following the passing of Mas Oyama in 1994, the Kyokushin world entered a period of division and organizational change. Rather than pursuing popularity or commercial expansion, Royama focused on preserving what he believed were the original principles of Kyokushin. 2003 he founded the Kyokushin-kan International Karate Organization, dedicated to maintaining the traditional values of Budo while continuing to evolve technical excellence. His emphasis was never simply producing champions. It was producing martial artists. Students remember Royama as a demanding but deeply compassionate instructor who expected discipline, humility, respect, and continuous self-improvement. His dojo was a place where character mattered as much as technique. His message remained remarkably consistent throughout his life: Karate begins with respect, grows through hardship, and ultimately becomes a way of living. A Life Recognized In 2024, Black Belt Magazine proudly welcomed Hanshi Hatsuo Royama into the Black Belt Hall of Fame, recognizing not only his extraordinary competitive achievements but also his lifelong contribution to preserving one of the world's most influential martial arts traditions. The honor celebrated more than six decades devoted to teaching, inspiring, and protecting the legacy of Kyokushin Karate. For Black Belt, it was an opportunity to recognize a man whose influence reached far beyond tournament titles. Royama represented an era when martial artists measured success not by social media followers or commercial ventures, but by integrity, discipline, and service to the art. Those fortunate enough to meet him witnessed the same qualities that had defined him since his teenage years—humility, quiet confidence, and genuine respect for everyone around him. An Enduring Legacy Hanshi Hatsuo Royama belonged to a generation of pioneers whose influence continues to shape martial arts around the world. His techniques are practiced daily by countless fighters. His philosophy continues to guide instructors across every continent. His dedication to Mas Oyama's vision ensured that future generations would inherit not merely a style of fighting, but a way of life rooted in discipline, honor, and perseverance. As we remember Hanshi Royama, we are reminded that the greatest martial artists are measured not only by the championships they win, but by the lives they shape. His legacy lives on in every dojo where students bow before stepping onto the mat, every practitioner who embraces hardship in pursuit of improvement, and every karateka who understands that true strength begins with humility. From everyone at Black Belt Magazine, we extend our deepest condolences to the Royama family, the Kyokushin-kan organization, and the worldwide Kyokushin community. Osu, Hanshi Royama. Your spirit, your teachings, and your example will continue to inspire generations of martial artists around the world. Black Belt Magazine extends its sincere appreciation to Kyoshi Shihan Tom Callahan, Vice Chairman of All Americas and International Committee Secretary, whose generosity, knowledge, and personal reflections helped bring the remarkable life and enduring legacy of Kaicho Hatsuo Royama to our readers.

There was a time in America when winning a karate tournament could make you a worldwide star. Mike Stone, Joe Lewis, and Chuck Norris in early karate tournament training Long before mixed martial arts, pay-per-view, and social media, the road to fame ran through packed gymnasiums and sold-out arenas, where the world's greatest martial artists battled for championships, prestige, and respect. The iconic 1968 Black Belt cover featuring Joe Lewis and Chuck Norris captured the beginning of what many would call the "Blood and Guts" era of tournament karate. Both men would rise from tournament champions to international superstars, proving that success on the competition floor could launch careers that reached far beyond the martial arts world. For more than six decades, martial arts has continually reinvented itself. Every generation believes its fighters were the toughest, its champions the most skilled, and its era the greatest. But one question remains: Was there truly one era that produced the toughest martial artists in history? The answer depends on what "tough" really means. Was it the pioneers who stepped onto hardwood floors with little protective equipment, often fighting multiple opponents in one night? The kickboxing legends who transitioned martial arts from point fighting to full-contact warfare? The tournament superstars who became global icons? Or today's mixed martial artists competing at the highest level of professional combat sports? The debate has no easy answer—but every era tells part of the story. The 1960s: Blood, Guts, and Authentic Combat If toughness is measured by grit, courage, and surviving in an era with almost no safety standards, many veterans point to the 1960s. This was the age when martial arts was still proving itself in America. Tournament rules were minimal. Protective gear was virtually nonexistent. Fighters often competed multiple times in a single day, sometimes against opponents from entirely different styles. Names like Mike Stone, Chuck Norris, Joe Lewis, Jeff Smith Allen Steen, Steve Sanders, Vic Moore, Ron Van Clief, Thomas La Puppet , Jim Harrison , Pat Burleson , Ron Marchini and Bill "Superfoot" Wallace. Thomas La Puppet appearing in early 1960s cover These athletes weren't specialists. They represented karate, taekwondo, kung fu, and other striking systems, constantly testing themselves against unfamiliar opponents. Winning required adaptability, toughness, and an extraordinary willingness to fight anyone. There was a great deal of raw emotion, aggression, and intensity. Karate gave that energy direction and discipline. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't polished. But it was authentic. There was very little imitation. Fighters relied on instinct, courage, and personal expression. They helped shape modern sport karate through experience rather than theory. They earned every lesson the hard way. That authenticity, combined with the friendships forged through shared hardship, is what made the "blood and guts" era unforgettable. Although the matches often appeared wild and violent, beneath the surface there was a code of respect beginning to develop. - Mike Stone Mike Stone with Chuck Norris, with a young Ron Marchini the next champion of the era in the background There were no million-dollar purses. No social media followers. Only respect. The 1970s: From Tournament Floors to Full Contact The 1970s were the Glory Days of Martial Arts. It was a decade when legends were forged, rivalries became folklore, and point fighting stood at the pinnacle of the martial arts world. Champions dazzled audiences with lightning-fast reflexes, flawless technique, and split-second precision. Epic clashes like Benny Urquidez vs. John Natividad lasted only moments, yet a few iconic photographs were enough to preserve them forever. Those images became part of martial arts history, reminding us that greatness isn't measured by the length of a fight—but by the legacy it leaves behind. Benny Urquidez vs. John Natividad 1973 Internationals went down as one of the greatest point matches in history. Martial artists began asking a simple question: What happens if we don't stop after scoring a point? The result was the birth of modern full-contact kickboxing. Pioneers like Bill "Superfoot" Wallace, Joe Lewis, Jeff Smith, Howard Jackson, and Benny "The Jet" Urquidez, helped transform martial arts into a spectator sport where knockouts—not judges—often settled the outcome. "Then came the birth of Full Contact Karate, later known as Kickboxing, introducing a faster, tougher, and more demanding level of competition. Only a select few champions successfully crossed over and excelled in both arenas. Their ability to master the precision of point fighting and the intensity of full contact competition set them apart as true martial arts pioneers. These remarkable athletes didn’t just win championships—they elevated the sport, inspired generations, and helped shape the future of competitive martial arts. The 1970s weren’t simply a great decade for martial arts—they created a legacy that still inspires champions today." - Jeff Smith Entering the 80s Across Europe and the United Kingdom, a new generation of kickboxers embraced ring competition, helping expand full-contact fighting into an international movement. Dutch, British, and French competitors would eventually become some of the most feared strikers in the world, laying the foundation for future K-1 and global kickboxing promotions. Superstars like Peter Aerts and Bas Rutten appearing on Black Belt covers. Television also began embracing martial arts. For the first time, audiences could regularly watch elite fighters compete, bringing the sport into living rooms around the world and creating the first true martial arts television stars. The 1980s: The Golden Age of Superstars If the 1970s established the foundation of modern martial arts competition, the 1980s transformed it into a spectator sport. Tournament fighting evolved into a showcase of elite athleticism, lightning-fast techniques, and charismatic personalities. As television expanded the sport's reach, a new generation of competitors emerged who were as exciting to watch as they were technically gifted. Legends including Keith Vitali, Nasty Anderson, Linda Denley, and Ray McCallum thrilled audiences with unmatched speed, precision, and explosive performances, helping define an era that many consider the golden age of tournament fighting. Point fighting evolved into an art form where fractions of a second determined victory. These athletes trained relentlessly to become explosive, technically flawless competitors. They also began crossing over into Hollywood. At the same time, full-contact kickboxing reached unprecedented global visibility with the rise of the Professional Karate Association (PKA). Joe Corley, who joined PKA as Exec VP in 1976 --following his retirement from competition and who then guided the direction of PKA on air--now CEO of PKA WORLDWIDE reflects... “From our first PKA World Championship broadcast on ABC’s Wide World of Entertainment in 1974 through more than 1,000 hours of television on CBS, Turner Sports, NBC, ESPN, USA Network and SHOWTIME, the PKA gave full-contact martial artists something they had long deserved: a national stage. The PKA did more than create great fights and unforgettable rivalries; it transformed accomplished martial artists into internationally recognized professional athletes and helped open the doors through which future generations would enter sports, entertainment, and popular culture.” - Joe Corley The PKA ushered in a new era of international stars. Champions such as Jean-Yves Thériault, Brad Hefton, Alvin Prouder, Jerry Trimble became household names among fight fans. Their fierce rivalries, unforgettable championship battles, and spectacular knockouts proved that martial arts could captivate mainstream audiences, laying the foundation for the televised combat sports boom that would follow. Rick Roufus vs. Jean-Yves Thériault became one of the PKA's greatest rivalries, delivering some of the most spectacular battles of the era and helping define the golden age of professional kickboxing. The 1980s also marked a turning point beyond the ring. As the popularity of martial arts exploded, many of its greatest champions made the successful transition to Hollywood, following the trail first blazed by pioneers such as Chuck Norris and Joe Lewis. Martial artists were no longer viewed solely as competitors. They became actors, instructors, authors, television personalities, entrepreneurs, and global ambassadors, expanding the influence of martial arts far beyond the dojo. No one embodied that evolution more than Don "The Dragon" Wilson. After becoming one of the most accomplished champions in professional kickboxing history, Wilson successfully transitioned to Hollywood, starring in dozens of action films and becoming one of the most recognizable martial arts stars of his generation. His success demonstrated that excellence in the ring could open doors to an international entertainment career, inspiring countless fighters who followed. By the close of the decade, martial arts had evolved from a niche competitive sport into a global entertainment phenomenon. The champions of the 1980s didn't just win titles—they built an industry whose influence continues to shape combat sports, film, and popular culture today. The 1980s represented a unique moment in martial arts history—when tournament champions, full-contact kickboxers, and action film stars all shared the spotlight, creating one of the sport's most influential and recognizable eras. In 1988 The Olympics made Tae Kwon Do and official sport, by 1990s superstars like Jimmy Kim, Herb Perez, Dana Hee, Arlene Limas and Lynnette Love dominated headlines. Many more crossed into Hollywood, following the path blazed by earlier pioneers. Martial artists were no longer simply competitors—they became stunt men and women, movie stars, instructors, authors, and global ambassadors for the industry. The 1990s: Everything Changed Then Came the UFC The early 1990s ushered in the most significant transformation martial arts had seen since the birth of professional tournament competition. The arrival of the MMA and the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) forever changed how the world viewed combat. For the first time, the question that had fueled decades of debate—Which martial art is truly the best?—was put to the test inside a single arena. Traditional style-versus-style rivalries replaced point tournaments, as karate, boxing, wrestling, judo, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, kickboxing, and other disciplines collided under one set of rules. The earliest UFC events shocked audiences. Grappling, submissions, ground fighting, and cage competition introduced millions to a new dimension of martial arts that few had ever witnessed. Victory was no longer determined by points or judges alone, but by the ability to finish an opponent using every aspect of combat. A new generation of icons quickly emerged. Royce Gracie demonstrated the effectiveness of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu against much larger opponents, forever changing the way fighters trained. The Gracie and Machado families helped establish Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu as an essential component of every serious fighter's arsenal. Soon, champions such as Ken Shamrock, Frank Shamrock, Dan Severn, Mark Coleman, Don Frye, Randy Couture, Chuck Liddell, Tito Ortiz, Matt Hughes, and Georges St-Pierre became the new faces of martial arts, blending striking, wrestling, and submission grappling into a complete fighting system. As mixed martial arts grew, the sport attracted a new generation of fans who were drawn to its realism, unpredictability, and all-around athleticism. The era of the specialist gave way to the era of the complete fighter. Yet while the UFC redefined professional fighting, it did not erase the legacy of those who came before it. The pioneers of tournament karate and full-contact kickboxing had already laid the foundation—proving that martial artists could become world champions, television stars, and global icons. Mixed martial arts built upon that legacy, creating the next chapter in the evolution of combat sports. The 2000s: The dominance of theUFC Era By the 2000s, the UFC had become the dominant force in combat sports. Modern fighters evolved into complete athletes—combining striking, wrestling, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, strength training, nutrition, sports science, and year-round professional preparation. At the same time, Olympic taekwondo adopted increasingly controlled rules emphasizing speed, precision, and electronic scoring and although Traditional tournament participation grew it was focused on children so audiences declined. While the sport gained worldwide legitimacy through Olympic recognition, many longtime martial artists felt it had drifted away from the hard-contact roots that originally attracted them. "The generation of warriors before mine were my idols. I have always respected the men who paved the road I got to travel. My seniors were tough guys in the truest sense — they didn't come to the dojang to learn life skills, they came to learn to fight, and they competed to prove who was best. My generation had two advantages: we were taught by those warriors, and we had the lights of the Olympic Games in front of us. Suddenly every country was building better technical and strategic systems to get to the top of the podium. So you had genuinely tough men working inside an explosion of new kicking and new strategy, in a full-contact sport where knockouts were common. You had to be physically durable and technically proficient or you ended up face down on the mat. Full contact Tae Kwon Do was replaced by a bad game of electronic tag. Athletes now chase contact with a chest protector or headgear with no regard for whether the technique carries any force behind it. The result is a mutated generation: not durable, not dangerous, and no longer able to throw a technique that does damage." - Herb Perez Olympic Gold Medalist The level of technical excellence reached heights unimaginable just decades earlier. Yet many veterans argue that today's fighters benefit from advantages unavailable to earlier generations: superior coaching, safer rules, better medical care, full-time training, and significantly larger financial rewards. That raises an intriguing question. Does superior athletic performance automatically make someone tougher? Or does toughness come from overcoming harsher conditions? So... Who Was the Toughest? Perhaps the better question isn't who was toughest. It's what kind of toughness each era demanded. The pioneers of the 1960s fought with little protection and built the foundation. The 1970s warriors risked everything to prove martial arts belonged in the ring. The 1980s champions elevated tournament fighting into an art while becoming international stars. The 1990s competitors adapted to an entirely new combat reality. And today's mixed martial artists represent the most complete combat athletes the world has ever produced. Every generation produced extraordinary fighters. Every generation believed it was tougher than the last. Maybe they're all right. Because toughness isn't measured only by championships or knockouts—it is measured by the willingness to step onto the mat, into the ring, or inside the cage, and test yourself against another human being. The real winner isn't one era. Or is it?