Celebrate Pride Month
Banned in Vietnam for being “too dark,” that dismissive description is bound to give you the wrong impression of Việt and Nam. Trương Minh Quý’s brilliant film is actually an achingly tender romance and a mysterious, deeply felt portrait of his homeland. It’s also one of the year’s most overlooked gems, a hit at Cannes that has quietly made a strong impression on in-the-know critics.
Stunningly shot on 16mm, this beautiful, understated love story is fascinatingly entangled with the ghost story of a nation, drawing influences from both Hollywood imports and Vietnamese propaganda films. Our lovers, Nam and Việt, toil away deep below the earth as coal miners, taking regular breaks for passionate trysts in the pitch-black depths. But Nam is determined to leave this land behind and flee the country for a better life. Before he leaves—illicitly smuggled in a journey that is beyond dangerous—he agrees to help Việt’s mother find her husband’s body, one of thousands never recovered after the war. She claims his spirit calls out to her in her dreams, leaving clues to where he can be exhumed.
With the Vietnam War 50 years in the rearview, the aftereffects are all over the lush but scarred landscape. Each family has a distant connection to the war and a tragedy to tell. The playful title perfectly reflects a country that, in the historical memory, is perpetually, irrevocably divided against itself. But the complex, wordless intimacy between the two men challenges that view, weaving a tragic romance told in subtle gestures and profound silences.
“Việt and Nam is a series of excavations, and, for all its gentle cadences—a shot of jungle leaves rustling in the wind about approximates the story’s rhythm—it seems to unearth new mysteries and paradoxes by the minute.” —Justin Chang, The New Yorker