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HONG KONG – Celebrated Shaw Brothers action star Chan Koon-tai, renowned for his role in the classic kung fu film The Boxer from Shantung, died early Wednesday morning after a suspected brain hemorrhage. He was 80 years old.
Chan’s passing was confirmed by his disciple and Hong Kong actor Ngo Ka-nin, who revealed that the veteran martial artist had been living in mainland China in recent years. The cause of death was not immediately released to the public, but Ngo described the news as deeply unsettling, saying he hopes his sifu “finds peace in the Pure Land.”
The two men shared a close bond that extended beyond traditional martial arts training. Ngo, who formally studied under Chan in the “Big Saint Splitting and Hooking” style of kung fu, spoke warmly about his mentor’s dual nature: a strict instructor who was also an energetic, playful companion.
“When teaching, he could be very serious. But in everyday life, he was full of fun, like a lively kid,” Ngo told local media outlet Ming Pao on Wednesday. “He always had a fire in him. He loved filming, would carry a camera everywhere and shoot in the heat, then edit the footage himself. He never stopped coming up with new ideas.”
Chan was born in Guangdong and rose to fame in the 1970s after winning a national martial arts competition. He was recruited by the Shaw Brothers studio, where he quickly became a leading action star. His portrayal of the tragic underworld figure Ma Wing-jing in The Boxer from Shantung (1972) cemented his status as a screen icon and earned him a devoted following across Asia.
Ngo revealed that years ago, he wrote a screenplay titled The Blacksmith, inspired directly by Chan’s life. He had kept the project a secret from his sifu, feeling the timing was never right to produce it. Now, with Chan gone, Ngo says he will resurrect the script and actively seek investors to complete the film in tribute to his mentor’s legacy.
“We were born just one day apart — he is September 25, and I am September 26,” Ngo said emotionally. “I have always remembered to wish him a happy birthday. Now, I will take out that script again and try to finish it.”
Fellow director and comedian Stephen Chow, who worked with Chan early in his career, also paid tribute on social media, calling Chan a “one-time Ma Wing-jing” and thanking him for being an influential figure at the dawn of his own film journey.
Chan’s work ethic was forged in an era of grueling production conditions. According to Ngo, his mentor often recalled the hardships of shooting without air conditioning on crowded sets, using expensive film stock that allowed few retakes. “The pressure was immense, but he never complained. He just kept going,” Ngo said.
Fans and industry veterans have flooded online forums with memories of Chan’s powerful screen presence and his contributions to the golden age of Hong Kong kung fu cinema. His influence endures not only through his films but through the disciples he trained and the scripts yet to be made.
Chan is survived by family members; details of memorial arrangements have not been announced. For now, the film community mourns the loss of a fighter who never stopped swinging — both on screen and off.
