RISING TIGER FILMS

As far back as I can remember I was always into movies. I was born and raised in northern Virginia. My mom is Filipino and my dad is Vietnamese, and while I can't exactly remember what my first movie was, I'm fairly certain it was either of the dinosaur or Godzilla persuasion, courtesy of my dad.

Godzilla was my introduction into cinema. From there, I got into all sorts of monster-related science fiction, particularly from Japan. Godzilla, Gamera, Ultraman, and other obscure giant monsters from the Far East defined my childhood. Even to this day I remain a fan, and I know had it not been for all those VHS tapes back then, I'm pretty sure the trajectory of my life would've been a bit different.

I remember the second defining moment of my life a bit better. It was summer vacation of my early middle school years, and a friend of mine let me borrow his copy of Rumble in the Bronx (1995) on VHS. This was my first real exposure to Jackie Chan, although my earliest memory was catching a bit of The Young Master (1980) on like, Fox 5's Saturday matinee programming or something. But it was Rumble in the Bronx (1995) that changed me. I watched it everyday. I don't know what it was. The action had me mesmerized. And from there, I watched every Jackie Chan movie I could get my hands on.

Watching foreign films in the late 90's/early 2000's was much different compared to today. Luckily, I was still somehow able to get my Hong Kong action film fix. By the time I was in high school, I already had a decent knowledge of the genre, and my eyes were opening to an even wider array of Asian cinema. Tsui Hark's Time and Tide (2000), Takeshi Kitano's Brother (2000), and Takashi Miike's Dead or Alive trilogy (1999, 2000, 2002) hit me one after the other during this time. And my world changed again.

Asian cinema became my home, my obsession, basically my everything. In 2003 my mom brought home a camcorder she bought from Circuit City. It was the first one our family had. I don't know exactly why she bought it, but I know I was pretty much the only person to use it. And use it I did.

The first film I ever made was a fight scene I shot in my backyard with my cousins Ron and Aldo. It was a scene I had copied from Jackie Chan's Police Story (1985), specifically the short one-on-one sequence between Chan and Fung Hak-On in the shopping mall finale. It's a small bit of fight choreography that has stuck with me to this day.

In October 2004 I went to college for video game design, but I was clearly more into filmmaking by that time. By then, I was just getting into movies outside the world of Asian cinema. This was when I was introduced to the films of Martin Scorsese, Nicolas Winding-Refn, David Lynch, Quentin Tarantino, and Michael Mann (among many, many others). By the time I graduated in 2009, I knew my degree was useless, but I knew what I wanted to really pursue.

I was also member of The Stunt People message board, a group of independent action filmmakers. This is where I received a majority of my knowledge about making action films. And it was during this time I met Edmond Shum, a friend from college and one of the most important people in my life as a filmmaker. We were like Ryu and Ken from Street Fighter. We trained and learned together, we got better together. Him, my cousin Ron, and myself were Rising Tiger Films. It was around this time that we made our first major short film, a 41-minute action-comedy loosely based on my life as an aspiring filmmaker. This was One Last Rumble (2009).

It was 2011 and I had just gotten my heartbroken for the first time. The girl I was involved with had a profound effect on me. This was the most important period in my life.

I didn't know what to do with myself. I was hurt, angry, embarrassed, ashamed. But I had filmmaking, and it saved me. 

Amazon Studios was just starting up. I entered a filmmaking contest they held. The film I made was my heart and soul at the time. It was also my first real feature film (despite having made an hour-long film with Ron and my other cousin Aldo in 2005/2006). It was an angry, angry film. Maybe a bit misguided, but structurally, it was there. This was Silverback (2011).

While the film didn't win the contest, I did receive multiple finalist nominations for Best Actor. I also landed in court for what was basically a hate-letter to my ex-girlfriend. Fortunately I came out of it unscathed, but I was changed. Prior to my ex and Silverback (2011), practically every film I made was a Jackie Chan-inspired action-comedy. My filmography from this point on though, is a bit different now.

My creative priorities changed. While even to this day I don't take acting too seriously, the award nominations Silverback (2011) received showed me that there was something there. I'm not religious by any means, and I don't particularly believe in destiny or fate or anything along those lines. But something divine was happening to me throughout the storm of maturation that I was weathering, and I didn't know it.

In 2010 Edmond, Ron, and I worked on an incredibly grounded and brutal fight scene. At least, at the time for us it was. I remember Ed got the idea to remake one of our older short films we did while still in college (Gangster Story [2006]), and it started with making this single fight scene. And from there, what basically started out as another short film (tentatively called Mean Street Story and New Gangster Story), some years later would evolve into my first (actual) feature film called Black Scar Blues (2017).

It took roughly six years to complete all together, and I strained my storytelling ability (and some friendships) along the way. Creative differences led to Ed stepping back from production towards the end, leaving it up to me, but he was supportive the entire way through. It wasn't perfect, but it was a feature.

It's 2020, and for the past two years I worked on something pretty significant to me. It was 2017 when I met my future wife, Kye. And it was at that time that I seemed to have finally, finally gotten over the heartbreak that I carried with me from 2011. With me allowing myself to somewhat finally let go of that "darkness", I decided to revisit an old project of mine. This time though, with a different mindset for a different point of my life. This was Silverback (2020).

I mentioned previously that with Silverback (2011), the structure was there. The story was there. It held a special place in my heart. I essentially tried to update it, since the film had pretty much just been sitting around and gathering dust ever since it got me into that "unpleasantness" in 2011/2012. I thought it deserved another shot. So what it ended up becoming was a sort of sequel/remake, a film that made reference to the events that happened in the original, but one that also works on its own.

Silverback (2020) remains my most complicated and personal film to date. Sure, it's not a feature (it's a really long short), but it did what I needed it to do, which was to move on.

In 2022, my mom and aunt were involved in a serious car accident. My mom was in the hospital for a month. We lost my aunt. Both had just retired and were getting food for a retirement party they were having when some cock-sucking piece of shit crossed the center line. And just like that, my aunt was gone. My mom recovered. I take comfort in the fact that the other driver died.

It was also at this time that I had taken a "break" from my job. In 2020, I left my job of 15 years and moved to one of the biggest tech companies in the world. It was one of those things where everyone else was proud of you and happy for you because you were successful, but I was slowly being chipped away at. In other words, I had imposter syndrome like a motherfucker. After being there for just under two years, and after my mom's accident, I decided to leave and look for something less stressful (which I eventually found).

But this whole mix of events, which essentially happened at the same time, really opened my eyes. Something that I had in my mind, something that had defined me since 2011, was that I needed to be real with myself. Happiness wouldn't find me if I just waited around for it. The world will suck you dry and use you up until there's no more left of you to use. So you need to find your happiness yourself, while you can, because you never know what will happen tomorrow.

With this mindset, the tail-end of 2024 saw the release of my most recent (and as of this writing, final) feature film. Since 2015, I had been collaborating with Team Red Pro, a group of fantastic like-minded and talented people in the VA/MD/DC area. My world had expanded. It was at that time I met Joseph Le, an up-and-coming artist, and he introduced me to his network. We worked on a few projects together, and it was through this that I started developing an idea based around the people in this circle. That's how The Brokenhearted (2024) was born.

My idea was to create a film centered around those in our creative circle who had yet really found a place to shine. Jackie Kim, the female lead in the film, had been the star of Joseph Le's previous project. However, the rest of the cast (Sam, Travis, Gene, and Alex) never really had the chance to show what they could do, despite obviously being incredibly talented. So that was my goal.

And after four years, my most ambitious and narratively/technically strongest film was finished.

As of this writing, it's the end of June 2025. My wife and I just bought our first house. Wasn't my idea, and it wasn't hers either. We both knew eventually we would want one (or have to get one), because you know, that's just what you do. Seems like everyone wants me to be like them, which is a miserable, indebted, normal adult. I fought against it for as long as I could. My thinking being that we're fine renting, and the world's going to shit anyway, so nothing fucking matters. But, we finally did it. You're welcome.

My son is due to be born this September. And just like that, home ownership and starting a family, two of the biggest things that define normal adulthood, have been achieved. It's stressful. My wife is handling the pregnancy and house thing just fine, and thank God for that. Because I'm a fucking mess. No, it's not the nerves or worry of becoming a new father, or the burden of owning a home. It's the fact that the world has beaten me. And I'm slowly coming to terms with that.

In hindsight, I finished The Brokenhearted (2024) just in fucking time. Because if I hadn't, there's no way I'd be able to do so now. So I guess you could say it all worked out. I'm fairly positive that this was my last film. Cinema has changed. Social media has polluted society, so much so that there's absolutely no hope for the future. Really, these kids now can hop on top of speeding subway trains or get locked up abroad for chasing clout all they want. I thought COVID would be the equalizer or the reset button that the world needed, but nope. These dumbass kids will wipe themselves out.

All that said, if being a father, husband, homeowner, regular-ass fucking normal adult is what I am now, then that's that. I know I'll have to dedicate myself to my wife and son and our home, because they all deserve that. And I'll try my best.

But maybe I'll get back to making movies someday.