
Some documentaries rescue greatness from obscurity. Vincent Pun’s El Chino is one such documentary. It’s the story of Bill Wong, a Chinese-American bullfighting aficionado who traded the family produce business for the blood and bravado of the ring. He was obsessed with the sport—learning to read bulls in Spain while dressed like a Qing dynasty noble and earning a reputation stretching from Madrid to Mexico to the world.
Inspired by a biography of Spanish matador Juan Belmonte, American-born Chinese Bill Wong set out on an improbable journey to become a bullfighter. In 1960, he drove to Mexico City to witness a bullfight firsthand and instantly knew it was his calling. Defying family expectations and cultural norms, Bill traveled to Spain, where he trained at Madrid’s Casa de Campo, the premier bullfighting school. With no car, little money, and limited connections, Bill began his training by studying bulls—closely mimicking their movements to understand their behavior. As one of the few Asians in Europe at the time, Bill faced intense skepticism, but his discipline and intellect allowed him to slowly earn respect in an unforgiving sport.
Gaining entry into the bullfighting world meant earning the right to perform in a tienta, where young cows are tested to determine their fighting quality. These events were tightly controlled, and for a Chinese-American outsider, nearly impossible to access. However, Bill’s persistence paid off when a retired matador named Blanquito took him under his wing. News of “El Chino” spread through local bars and training rings. Bill’s debut generated buzz, especially after he paraded through the streets in traditional Chinese dress. Although he was thrown in his first outing, he wasn’t seriously injured—and more importantly, he got back up. That resilience became the hallmark of his career.
“…learning to read bulls in Spain while dressed like a Qing dynasty noble…”
Bill never made much money in the ring, but his siblings back home continued to support him as he honed his skills and studied the philosophy of bullfighting. He became an expert on the sport’s history and cultural nuances, writing about the elegance of movement and the art of confrontation. As his story spread across Mexico, Spain, and the U.S., Bill slowly won over the public—and even his mother, who had once begged him to come home. “El Chino” wasn’t just a novelty; he was a true student of the sport. Though the odds were always against him, Bill Wong carved out a place in a tradition that had no space for someone like him—until he forced it to make room.
There’s a reason why indie documentaries are so vital to human history. Corporate gatekeepers like ESPN, HBO, Showtime, and National Geographic would never tell a story like Bill Wong’s. They’ll throw terms around like money, target demos, and audience. What they won’t mention is the unsung heroes who will disappear and be forgotten unless their stories are told. This is why El Chino is so important. In a world divided by race and at the risk of cultural appropriation, Bill Wong is a Chinese man who fought to break down racial barriers, not because they needed to be torn down, but because he fell in love with a sport and wanted to be the best.
For a man who died in 1969, the source material available is incredible. It includes interviews with his many siblings, who supported his passion, along with colleagues and bullfighting historians. The stories are numerous, and as luck would have it, one of his last big fights was captured on film.
As a documentary, El Chino is no-frills compared to what a million-dollar HBO budget can deliver. Still, an effort was made to make historical photos interesting using CG to create motion-based depth-of-field effects. El Chino also covers all the important points, such as Bill’s family history of coming to America and running a produce store in Nogales, the struggle of living during the Chinese Exclusion Act, and the surprisingly less-racist-than-you-think experiences Bill had in Mexico and Spain.
El Chino isn’t just a portrait of obsession; it’s proof that passion makes its own path, even through the most unlikely arenas. Bill Wong didn’t just break the mold—he gored it, caped it, and took a bow in front of it. This is the kind of underdog story that deserves our attention. Yes, you can fulfill your dreams.
For more information, visit the El Chino page at PunFilms.com.

"…didn’t just break the mold—he gored it, caped it, and took a bow in front of it."
I’m a psychotherapist, i use this film in sessions to help my patients follow their passion when they are feeling stuck. A beautiful film that very realistically expresses the human experience of socialized self vs our authentic self.