Chan reaction

Is Jackie Chan the greatest action hero and biggest movie star in the world? His films trounce the likes of Titanic in Asia. And in his autobiography, I Am Jackie Chan, he recalls how he once scoffed to an American reporter: "There are billions of people in Asia ... America is a very small market."

Chan is giving interviews to promote his latest film, a Western spoof called Shanghai Noon. Despite the lavish hotel suite, its doors flanked by posters for the movie, the set-up for someone of his stature seems positively low-key.

And the publicist confides that Chan has been puzzled by the casual way that British photographers take a few snaps and push off. "In Hong Kong, he's photographed wherever he goes."

In the flesh he's not tall, and more thick-set than he seems on screen. For much of the time it's like sitting opposite a well-dressed Chinese businessman.

Then his eyes light up, he waves his arms or chops at the air to make a point and pulls his ear-to-ear grin, and sud-denly, he couldn't be anyone else.

He was born Chan Kong-sang (which means "born in Hong Kong" Chan) in 1954. As a burly toddler he became known as Pao-pao, or cannonball, the first of many sobriquets.

At the Chinese Opera School, where he underwent 10 years of punishing physical training (but no education), the nickname Big Nose stuck.

After his parents moved to Australia, Pao-pao was briefly anglicised to Paul, but he preferred Jackie, the name he was given when he worked on a building site in Canberra.

By the time he graduated, Chinese opera was dead, and like many of his old school "brothers" (including Samo Hung, of TV's Martial Law) he moved into film stuntwork, earning a reputation for attempting death-defying stunts for next to no money.

He worked briefly with Bruce Lee, and when Lee died Chan was one of many to be dubbed "the new Bruce."

In the autobiography there's much discussion about his new name — Lee having been the "Little Dragon."

"How about Yun Lung — 'cloud
dragon'?" he suggests.

"A dragon in the clouds can't be seen, right?" grumbles the boss.

Zi Lung — "child of the dragon" — is similarly shot down. "We don't want people to think you'll grow up to be a dragon, we want people to say, this guy's already a dragon."

So "already a dragon" — Jackie Chan Sing Lung — it is.

Shanghai Noon is the result of a deep-rooted obsession. "I just love cowboy movie," he enthuses in his fast, funny English. "Also I love fireman movie."

"When I'm growing up I want to be a police, but when I got the form I don't know how to fill it in. Then becoming a stuntman, then very lucky, I becoming a star. Then I wrote police."

He means Police Story, one of the great Chan movies, which culminates in an extraordinary sequence in a shopping mall with our man descending 30m through the air on a pole wrapped in Christmas lights, shedding electrical sparks and glass shards all the way down.

"All my idea is like CIA story, Western story, fireman story," he says. "Each time I present it to the company, they refuse. Why? Too expensive. After success of Rush Hour, I say, 'No more police story, I'm tired. Can we do something like the cowboy thing?'

"For them it's a business, for me it's a dream come true. Now I push the production company to give me my second dream."

He pauses dramatically. "Fireman!"

Chan fans have come to recognise the "superstunts" like Police Story's glass slide, or Project A's sheer fall down the front of a building, impeded only by a series of cloth canopies — all performed by Chan himself, and with the frequently agonising outtakes screened over the closing credits.

Shanghai Noon has lots of action: Jackie beats a gang of bandits aboard a steam train; Jackie takes out half an Indian tribe; Jackie demolishes a saloon bar. But there's no trademark superstunt.

"It's the 1800s," he explains. "What else we have? No helicopter, no bicycle, no motorcycle, nothing! Even the train — dumdumdumdum" (this is the sound of a train moving slowly).

"You know Hong Kong movie — fighting, boom-boom-boom, then little bit of talking, then fighting. American movie — drama, dialogue, comedy, humour.

"If you fight too much, it becoming a violent film and they need a PG rating. Hong Kong way, I get total control. American way, I like the quality, the budget. But too straight. Should be flexible."

In his book, Chan pays great tribute to Master Yu, his teacher, but also paints a brutal picture of life at school.

It's difficult to believe Chan can be so magnanimous to a man who seems little short of a torturer. Chan hesitates a little before delivering his reply.

"I really forgive my master, and also I thank my master because right now, whatever I'm using, I learn from the school.

"And because of my mental training, I learn everything very fast: English, golf ... I can fight with anything, even this." He grabs a cup and saucer.

"I can use all the techniques in my movies. But when I see some of my friends, what are they doing?

"Now they become a waitress. I thank my master, but I don't think some other students think the same way."

Schools such as his have all closed, "because now you hit children, they can sue you.

" I have to get up at 5 o'clock in the morning. You still asleep? Pow, pow!"

He rocks his head back and forth under the imaginary blows.

"Now do 500 kicks. Go!

"They force me to learn. If now I'm good, because they force me good. It's not learn by myself."

Very early on in his movie career, a spurned director turned to the Triads to force Chan to work with him. Chan defied them and has since organised marches to protest at the continuing Triad influence in the Hong Kong entertainment business. He's had no further trouble.

"Jackie's too big. They cannot do something about me. I just tell all my friends — no! Don't step back, step forward. One step forward, they scared! If you tell them, 'What? I don't want to make a film with you,' they think, 'Who are you calling? The police know already?

"Just don't back up! The more you back up, the more they step on you."

Trips to Hong Kong are now infrequent — to his relief. Hong Kong has changed since 1997.

"I think, being Chinese, return to China, okay, good. But after return, not as good as before. Now, people more free but becoming very selfish. They don't have the discipline any more.

"Every newspaper: look at Jackie, thinks he's the big star. They never write good things, only bad things.

"I hate to go back. I don't like Hong Kong any more. I don't like to say that, but I'm ashamed of the situation right now."

He compliments me on my Chinese silk jacket, tells me about his new clothing line to be launched soon (his fine suit is an example), and pads silently away, across the luxurious carpet, to have his picture taken.

- INDEPENDENT

Shanghai Noon opens at cinemas on Thursday.