An Underrated Action Flick Immortalized Hip-Hop’s Love Of Martial Arts

Since the earliest days of hip-hop, there’s been a lasting, deep appreciation for all things martial arts. It only makes sense. Like hip-hop, kung-fu flicks were first introduced to American audiences in the overlooked recesses of New York City in the mid-’70s. The parallels go beyond the point of origin — it’s embedded in the broader audience's cultural understanding of both. Hip-hop heavyweights, working tirelessly on their technique (be it DJing, breakdancing, or rhyming) and proving their mastery of the craft in the heat of battle, closely mirror that of the journeyman protagonist who typically starred in a Shaw Brothers flick.

From Wu-Tang to Kung Fu Kenny, Bruce Leroy, to Lupe Fiasco, the synergy between the two runs deep in a way that still manifests today. But few moments in hip-hop history encapsulate this accordance better than the 2000-action flick Romeo Must Die. The Jet Li vehicle not only marked the acting debut of the late Queen of R&B and legitimized one of hip-hop’s biggest stars as a bankable Hollywood leading man, it immortalized hip-hop’s love of Asian-origin action flicks forever.

Romeo Must Die follows Han Sing (Li), a disgraced Hong Kong cop who escapes prison to investigate, and hopefully avenge, the murder of his Triad-affiliated brother in California. Han soon finds that the death of his brother is just the beginning of the overboiling tensions between the Chinese and Black organized crime families of Oakland.

The film is a very loose adaptation of Shakespeare’s romantic tragedy Romeo And Juliet. Han and Trisha, played by singer Aaliyah, are caught between their two warring families. Aaliyah’s film debut is fairly subdued compared to her posthumous leading role in 2002’s Queens Of The Damned. But it's a fantastic showcase for why the 21-year-old star was pegged as Hollywood’s next crossover star. She’s a strong leading lady and has great chemistry with Li. However, unlike the source material, their actual romance takes a backseat to the action and interfamily drama (more on that later).

Billed under our two leads are Delroy Lindo, the head of the Black family and doting father to Trisha, and his right-hand man, played by Crooklyn’s Isaiah Washington. Both turn in strong performances full of grit, gravitas, and in the case of Lindo, some genuine heart. Anthony Anderson is the film’s comic relief and mostly delivers without things getting too racist (it was the year 2000 after all). But the star who makes the most of his screen time is one Earl Simmons, better known as DMX.

While he appears in just two scenes, DMX’s rough-around-the-edges charm and presence are electric. This would be the first time he’d share screen time with Li. The duo would reunite for 2003’s Cradle 2 The Grave, a wonderfully camp and even less subtle hip-hop-coded love letter to Chinese cinema. In Romeo Must Die, it's easy to see why director Andrzej Bartkowiak wanted to give the Yonkers-born artist a more prominent role. Rounding out the hip-hop influence is master music producer and frequent Aaliyah collaborator Timbaland, who shares a score credit with composer Stanley Clarke.

Opposite the film’s Black ensemble is charming leading man Russell Wong (Joy Luck Club, True Crime: Streets Of LA). Wong plays Li’s family friend and confidant. Chinese film luminary Henry O plays Li’s stoic and honor-bound father. And on the production side, legendary choreographer Corey Yuen, lends a stylized hand to the fight scenes.

The action in Romeo Must Die is far more fantastical than Yuen’s work on Lethal Weapon 4 or 2002’s The Transporter. There’s plenty of exaggerated wirework and slow-motion stunt bumps for the viewer to soak in. There’s even an experimental X-ray effect (think the recent and often-memed Mortal Kombat games) used throughout to punctuate bone-crunching, life-ending injuries. It all lends the film an early 2000s flair that I find endearing at my nostalgia-addled age.

Romeo Must Die does have its shortcomings, mainly stemming from it being a product of its time. There are plenty of needle drops of now-aged hits. (Not saying that music isn’t great or timeless, but I won’t be rushing to play this one for my nieces and nephews obsessed with the now.) And the film practically signposts its handful of plot twists and turns.

The biggest letdown is how the film handles our two star-crossed lovers. Despite feeling very natural on screen, Aaliyah and Li never seal the deal with a kiss. While it doesn’t undercut their believability as a couple (which is most important), it does feel weird to watch as shlocky an action flick as this without the hero getting his smooch. It’s been reported that the kiss scene was filmed but cut because the interracial intimacy didn’t test well with audiences. But Jet Li himself disputes this.

“It was not really a race issue,” Li wrote in a blog post in 2001. Instead, the crew decided to cut the kiss because of the timing. “We thought it might be somewhat strange and awkward for Han to have just witnessed Chou's suicide, then to come out and kiss Trish. Thus it was decided that Han should take it slowly with Trish. Do a hug first and maybe leading into a ‘real’ relationship later.”

Still, it would’ve been nice to see it happen during some of the duo’s downtime earlier in the film. It’s like the opposite of when Kirk kissed Uhura in 1966. A very trivial nitpick, yes. But a missed opportunity that’s noticeable upon a sentimental rewatch nonetheless.

Altered ending aside, Romeo Must Die is a great time two decades later. It’s not taking home any awards for changing the landscape of martial arts flicks or new-age Black cinema. But it was one of the first, sincere attempts to bring together Black and Chinese cinephiles, with one hell of a cast to boot. Hip-hop’s love of Chinese cinema runs deep. But Romeo Must Die was the moment that connection was solidified and celebrated on the silver screen.