Thinking and Writing

Kung Fu, a television show that aired in 1972, plunges its main character, the idealized epitome of Eastern culture, values and heroism, into the most Western setting imaginable: the Wild West, in fact. There, where characteristics like boldness and initiative and individualism and, above all, action, are most valued, a Shaolin monk looking for family, not fame, teaches not only the cowboys and settlers around him, but us the viewers, the value of patience, quiet strength, and even passivity. This contrast comes to a head in the episode “Superstition,” where the hero saves the day not through daring action or unique deeds, but through patience and wisdom. In this way, the show emphasizes the value of differing, Eastern schools of thought.

Differences in people are best explored through their interactions, and for this reason the characters in Kung Fu are very important in communicating the show’s ideas on cultural cooperation. From the beginning of the episode, Caine shows calm and meek behavior in the face of unjust greed exhibited by rather typical rough, Wild Westerners, when they frame him to work him in the mines. His ethnic differences are continually noticed and pointed out, in a derogatory way until he proves himself with a more relatable show of strength to that culture: when pushed into a brawl, he uses his Shaolin skills to great effect. “I never saw a man handle himself that way… You learn that in China?” asks a fellow prisoner. “Yes. And other things.” It seems clear that Caine values these other things more, as he continually draws strength from childhood lessons. As the episode progresses, their value becomes clear to his new acquaintance also, who learns to master extreme temperatures and in the end, more importantly, himself. It’s interesting that in one scene of the episode, when Caine stands down from a rebellion of prisoners in a show of patience and value for life, his identity as a “yellowskin” and a “coward” is rearticulated regardless of his previous acts—and even more interesting that the foreman recognizes the danger of the hope and dignity that Caine actually brings to the table. This, of course, leads to the crisis of the episode: the miners become trapped in a cave-in, threatened by loss of air. The miners panic and start to try and dig themselves out, but then, in an act of leadership and heroism that I will always remember for its oddity as well as its efficacy, Caine persuades them all to do nothing, and rely on outside help. This act (or lack of) goes completely against Western instincts, which tend towards bold action, and indeed, the former leader of the miners takes great persuading. In the end, however, this course of non-action saves them all, proving the worth of Caine’s differing principles of strength and wisdom.

            The music of this show is a stylistic reinforcement of the theme: East and West meeting. It draws on musical traits from both cultures to create a sound that uniquely characterizes the show, an impressive feat in a time of comparatively homogenous television scores across the board. This is largely done by the introduction of Eastern chords, such as in the main cue of the show. These are played mostly by Western instrumentation,  most distinctively bowed strings. It also is done through the heavy use of woodwinds, which are identifiable not only with an Asian influence, but are also prominent in the style of the Wild West showdowns and open prairies. The juxtaposition of flutes and reeds occurs many times, which not only creates a precise texture but opens interesting avenues of thought when it comes to disparate things working together to create something surprisingly new and worthwhile.

                        In many ways, the making of Kung Fu and its popularity and acceptance among critics and audiences alike mark the increasing intercultural curiosity that started in the sixties with hippies and the new age movement and grew into an even wider and more accessible trait of American life. It is by no means unmarked by bias or stereotyping—indeed, the main character, who is supposed to be half-Chinese, is played by an actor of completely European descent, and there is some controversy on whether Bruce Lee should have been cast or given more credit—but it shows an appreciation for theretofore undermined values. English speaking culture has for eons appreciated the bold violence in tales such as Beowulf and the initiative and smarts in near contemporary Star Trek. The wisdom and patience of Caine is almost alien in comparison, especially in a young hero, and are valued much more in Eastern culture. The portrayal of these differences and the impact of this portrayal is influenced by the history of Western heroism and the slow discovery of Eastern equivalents when this episode was aired.

            Kung Fu by no means solves the issue of East-West relations, and certainly not in one episode, but then, it doesn’t try to. In fact, it focuses mostly on proving the validity and applicability of Eastern values and cultures as the West was just starting to understand them when the show was produced. By exhibiting these ideals in a thoroughly Western setting, the differences are highlighted not for ridicule’s sake but to more easily appreciate what they have that Western culture may more often miss.