There is a mesmeric quality to “Viet and Nam,” writer/director Trương Minh Quý’s ambitious queer romance about two young miners in Vietnam circa 2001. The film’s images, courtesy of Son Doan, are extraordinary. Long, wordless shots of a shirtless man lying on a bed of leaves or a wooded area during a heavy rain are gorgeous. Likewise, several scenes of the title characters cuddling together in the depth of the mines or working side by side in a rhythmic fashion are entrancing.
This film is driven more by atmosphere than plot, which will be enthralling for some viewers, but frustrating for others. Quy provides the title card 55 minutes into the film — which effectively divides it into two halves. The characters are largely unidentified, which suggests layers of meaning about identity. While much of “Viet and Nam” requires viewers to pay close attention, much of the film also exists in a liminal, dreamlike state that allows one’s mind to drift along with the characters.
Viet (Dao Duy Bao Dinh) and Nam (Pham Thanh Hai) are in love and steal private moments together whenever they can. There is an incredible intimacy between them lying shirtless — or naked — underground in luminously shot episodes. They are able to express their affections openly while hidden in the dark; one dazzling scene has them kissing for more than two minutes straight before they stop, and then start to kiss again. Later in the film, Nam cleans Viet’s ears in an intense scene that is filmed almost in silhouette. And while the lovers clasp hands secretly at a dinner table with Nam’s mother, Hoa (Nguyen Thi Nga), and “uncle” Ba (Le Viet Tung), they remain closeted about their relationship. When Ba asks, “So when are you two getting married?” he really means to women — but the question does hang in in the air, prompting the response, “When will we marry each other?”
However, Viet and Nam, may not be together much longer. Nam is looking to emigrate to Europe and has contacted a human trafficker. Before he leaves, Hoa hopes she and her son can find some answers regarding the death of Nam’s father, a soldier who left before Hoa knew she was pregnant. These storylines form the drama in the second half of “Viet and Nam.”
Hoa contemplates what may have happened — that Nam’s father may have another family or even other children, as if to avoid the reality of him being dead. The characters travel through the country and connect with a psychic (Le Ho Lan) who has a memorable sequence that ends with an arresting image of her mouth wide open, making small noises.
Quy is addressing the impact of war trauma and several sequences involve references to bombs and past military action. Hoa is troubled by Vietnam’s history, and Nam wants to leave the country because he thinks he can have a better life elsewhere. Viet, however, asks his boyfriend if the real reason Nam wants to leave is “to get white dick” — another form of colonialism, perhaps?
“Viet and Nam” comments on Vietnam’s past, with scenes of the characters visiting a gravesite and battlefields. These episodes provide meaning, as does a scene set in a museum filled with skulls and bones and other artifacts behind glass and positioned above the main floor. Quy uses space (and lighting) very effectively, from Viet and Nam’s dark trysts underground, to the lush fields and forests where the characters search for Nam’s father. The interior and the exterior spaces reflect the characters’ internal thoughts and visible expressions. Quy is considering what is seen and what is hidden; what is remembered, what is imagined, and who bears witness. His dense film asks key questions about identity, family, and home, but it lets viewers connect the dots and form answers.
The film ends with a pair of appropriately disturbing sequences. One features Ba recounting a story that may provide some closure regarding what happened to Nam’s father. The other involves Nam’s efforts to leave Vietnam via a shipping container. The power of Ba’s words, and the images of Nam, are both haunting.
“Viet and Nam” may be a long, slow burn, but it delivers an affecting payoff.
Trương Minh Quý will participate in Q&As select screenings on March 28 and 29.
“Viet and Nam” | Directed by Trương Minh Quý | Opening March 28 at the IFC Cinema | Distributed by Strand Releasing
