Viet and Nam

A group of soot-covered men stand chest to chest as they descend on a shabby lift down to near-complete darkness, where they toil away like machines. Though the mine feels like a space of confinement at first, it’s a place of liberty for Viêt and Nam. Here, the pair can freely express their romantic feelings in intimacy. But regrettably, the young men are due to part as Nam prepares to move abroad for better opportunities. Fortunately, there is some time before they separate. First, Nam intends to accompany his mother who is set on finding the remains of Nam’s father, who never returned from the war in the 1970s.

Set during a time of change and healing in the aughts, the aftermath of war haunts Viêt and Nam while shaping their futures. Their exchanges of bodily secretions seem to merge them into one being, while their uncanny resemblance visually mirrors the pain, longing, and uncertainty of the past, present, and future.

Just before its premiere at Cannes, Viêt and Nam was banned by Vietnam’s Cinema Department for its “gloomy, deadlocked, and negative view” of the country. Although it tells a story specific to the place and its history, the film’s ambiguity and artistic approach render it an emotional, universal, and timeless exploration of the senses. Beautifully shot on 16mm by filmmaker Trương Minh Quý, Viêt and Nam is like panning for gold. Its true value surfaces after you dig and let the water wash away the dirt.

JUNE KIM

Content advisory: accident trauma, crude content, sexually suggestive scenes, nudity