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Reviews
Cha Cõng Con (2017)
Happy Father's Day: Father and Son
Out of all the Vietnamese films I saw at the 2017 LA Asian Pacific Film Festival, the only one stood out was Father and Son (Cha Cong Con). The other three films were rather tamed in my opinion. Father and Son's familiar tear-jerking story mostly appeals to older audience but everyone should check it out for the stunning cinematography and nostalgic elements.
As common in Vietnamese films, the simple plot is bleak. Although the actors are adequate, the best character is the setting. The first portion of the film takes place in a tranquil mountain region. This is the best part of the whole film. It gives us a good sense of place and time. Our characters are surrounded by a vast environment of forest, hills, and rivers. Director of photography Ly Thai Dung's keen eyes present nature as nurturing and cruel. On one hand, he shows us beautiful shots of innocent children marveling at sun rays piercing through cloud, a raft floating on the shimmering surface of water, and golden blades of grass waving in the calm breeze during magic hours. On the other, there are allegorical master shots signaling the impending doom associated with the landscape, such as insignificant tiny human figures walking up a steep foggy slope. Several other visual compositions seem straight out of a Caspar David Friedrich's painting, showing a lonely figure facing a subliminal natural backdrop; a man sitting on a small fishing boat with his back to the viewers contemplating at the indifferent river water in the background.
Indeed, mother nature does give and take. Our main characters live off the land by fishing, but during rainy season, their belongings and often family members are swept away by flash floods. The flawed script succeeds in depicting the human inhabitants as resourceful but are still struggling. They are able to chop down trees to build a temporary shelter on higher ground but not having the hindsight to relocate their homes to a different area where flooding might not occur.
The director Luong Dinh Dung pays extra attention to the daily activities of his characters to give them human values. When the father trades fishes for a sweater as a gift for his beloved son only to realize it's too big to fit. Another scene shows the boy's naive affection toward a baby chick that also serves as a plot device to get audience invested emotionally considering their eventual grim fates. There are a few other scenes in my opinion that touch on that nostalgic Vietnamese-ness. One is when the father sits by his wife's grave and consults her about the future of his son. A different one shows a group of kids hanging off the back of a seemingly giant man carrying a bike uphill. In the daytime, children playfully dash across grassy fields and roll in mud. At night, they fall asleep peacefully on the laps of their guardian elders who tell them magical stories regaling their younger days. These are the scenes that I find most alive in the film.
The color palettes compliment the development of the narrative. Forest green and golden hues are used for some of the brighter sequences in the beginning of the movie while a bluish-tint permeates across the night punctuated by warm umber gradient from fire pits. Later when we are in the city, the film switches to silver tone to bring out that steely and sterile sense of city atmosphere. There are a few outstanding moments approaching magical realism. One is when the father carries the son up the stairs of a high-rise, a swarm of wasps appears to be their obstacle. Another is when children gawk into the sky at an airplane that is intentionally framed to make it look out of this world. Overall, the film is a compelling journey from natural terrain to industrial landscape, from fantasy to reality, and from life to death.
The music appropriately oscillates from joyful carefree melodies to somber moody tunes. I like that the Korean composer Lee Dong June doesn't use any of the cliche traditional Vietnamese musical instruments. Dialogues are sparse. Particular stand-out is of the lead actor - Ngo The Quan. His voice is coarse and subdued. He delivers lines in low volume with minimal lips movement implying a man who has lost and sacrificed much. I was told there are few trained actors, and most are locals. Regardless, the children carry the best lines - with a sense of childish wonderment. For example, the son asks his father "when can I grow as big as you?"
The film's simple emotional message is quite clear - life is all about the journey, not the destination. It also did a noble job with showing how Vietnam's modern society has alienated certain indigenous groups. However, I just want to return to asking the question of why people continue to live in flood zone? I feel this is something the film should have touched on more although flood is the second major conflict in the film; the first is disease. Is it because of their livelihood, which is fishing in this case? Or is it their ancestral connection to the land? Perhaps, their unwillingness to submit to the whim of nature gives them courage.
I'd wished that I could see it in better quality. The screening copy at the film festival was terrible. It looked like they showed the movie from a DVD. This is a film worth supporting if you love Vietnamese cinema. Anyhow, if you're interested in seeing another good film from Eastern bloc countries about paternal bondage, I highly recommend Andrey Zvyagintsev's masterpiece, The Return. Also, check out Sokurov's dreamy film Mother and Son, in which this film shares a kinship with.
Tam hon me (2011)
Must See Vietnamese Film For Mother's Day
People say "the child is the father of the man." In Tam Hon Me (Mother's Soul), the child is the mother of the woman. Since Vietnamese society is historically matriarchal-centric, the film makes audience ponders about the paradox beyond its narrative. Mother's Soul is a very Vietnamese film because it uses spiritual elements in a very human story.
On the street of Hanoi near the Red River, a woman and her daughter struggle to make a living selling fruits. Lusting for the affection of a truck driver, she neglects her child. The daughter is Thu, who is independent and acts beyond her age. Thu isn't one of those children who are on the screen to make the viewers cry. Her bond with a young boy from school is surprisingly innocent, maternal, and spiritual. The film is very Romantic in a classical sense; children are sometimes able to come closest to God.
The filmmakers portray Thu as a fully developed character. The young actress Phùng Hoa Hoai Linh carries the role with stoicism and conviction. Physically, she seems frail, but her actions are swift and sometimes cruel, a sign of maturity. Her mother, on the other hand, seems to have trouble getting over her life's failure and being abandoned by her husband. The actress, Hong Anh, plays the character bravely with vulnerability. You care for the mother even when her decisions are irresponsible and stupid. Her motive is simple. She yearns for love but gets none. In a heartbreaking scene, she's naked, covered in mud, and breaks down in front of the kids comforting her. Possibly, one of Mother's Soul biggest strengths is its sympathy to all the characters. Even men are portrayed not as generic villains but with compassion and understanding.
Mother's Soul is directed with insight by visionary female director Pham Nhue Giang. She's made only three films and in all of them, the female leads are portrayed as flawed human beings with superficial values. For example in her first movie, The Deserted Valley, the young teacher falls in love with a handsome but fleeting boyfriend instead of her kind and caring middle aged male colleague. In Mother's Soul, the mother is also blinded by a frivolous romance. However, the film does much more than preach us about parenting. As Thu finds out, in order to be a good mother to someone else you have to be a mother to yourself first. This implied focus on individualism is what makes Mother's Soul an exceptional Vietnamese movie.
Mother's Soul is produced by the Vietnam Feature Film Studio, which is now bankrupted and deserted. While Vietnamese movies are generally conservative due to censorship from the government, this film feels genuine and very bold. Possibly, because it's written by Phan Dang Di, it might have been able to bypass regulation for its lyricism. Otherwise, the filmmakers might have fought tooth and nail to make the movie that they intended to make.
There are beautiful and shocking scenes in Mother's Soul. Consider a few involving a rat. They are not there for gross effect but tells us about the various characters it interacts with. One shows the rodent running for its life. The camera goes handheld following its trail, with Thu in the foreground chasing after it. The cinematography is by Ly Thai Dung, who also lenses Father and Son. Here he films scenes of children in natural surroundings with water and lush greenery suggesting their escape from the hardship of real life in the city. Whereas, deep-focus is used in scenes of the bustling streets and squalid market where adults scurry to make ends meet. There is a sequence of magical realism. It is a convincing use of special effects and must have been really expensive for the film production.
Adapted from a short story by the great Vietnamese author Nguyen Huy Thiep, the film implies how much damage Vietnam's economic reform has done to its heritage. In order for the country to shift toward industrialization, it might have to shed its soul - the soul of the motherland. The tribute of Vietnamese's traditional values and way of life is a recurring theme for many of Thiep's works, most notably in Nostalgia For The Countryside.
The last scene of Mother's Soul takes place in the cornfield. The bright green color we've seen before is now very dark suggesting a gloomy future for our characters. Will Thu grow up to be the same as her mother?