Review: Sensual, Ethereal Queer Film 'Viet and Nam' Tenderly Explores Love and a Painful Past
Source: Strand Releasing

Review: Sensual, Ethereal Queer Film 'Viet and Nam' Tenderly Explores Love and a Painful Past

Megan Kearns READ TIME: 4 MIN.

Sometimes love transcends joy; it exists as hope and salvation amidst trauma. Written and directed by Truong Minh Quy, "Viet and Nam" stars Pham Thanh Hai as Nam and Dao Duy Bao Dinh as Viet, two gay coal miners in their 20s in love in Vietnam. Nam wants to emigrate for a better life. Before leaving, the two men look for the remains of Nam's father, alongside Nam's mother Hoa (Nguyen Thi Nga) and Ba (Le Viet Tung), a veteran who knew Nam's father.

Premiering at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival and nominated for the Queer Palm, "Viet and Nam" screened at other film festivals, including the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) and New York Film Festival. But the film was banned in Vietnam.

Opening in almost pitch blackness, Nam and Viet talk as they touch each other's face. Gently and seductively, one slowly sucks the other man's thumb. As soon as an alarm sounds, they quickly pull away as their colleagues walk past.

The coal mine visually swallows the two lovers. Here in this ebony world, they are momentarily free to be together and be themselves amidst stolen moments.

This tender moment cuts to a scene of men digging in the coal mine, a rhythmic repetition that feels mechanical, as if the workers are cogs in a machine, evoking the workers in the silent film "Metropolis." This juxtaposition of dehumanization and repetition (hands pulling coal off a conveyor belt and workers designated by numbers rather than their names) makes Viet and Nam's sex scenes even more moving.

As Viet and Nam walk together along a beach, Viet talks of broken seashells and how this is "their graveyard." Beautifully macabre, it aligns with the film's poignant themes of finding beauty and connection while reconciling with death, pain, and trauma.

The film is set in 2001. Nam lives with his mother, Hoa, and Ba, a veteran who knew his father, a "martyr" from the war a quarter century before. Hoa gently tells Nam to bring "him" to dinner, referring to his lover, Viet. She seems aware and approving of their relationship. We also see how Viet and Nam navigate hiding being gay in public. The two men celebrate Viet's birthday in a restaurant. They say they will pretend to be brothers if anyone asks. At dinner, Ba asks Nam and Viet when they will get married. Nam coyly smiles and Viet asks, "To each other?" Ba calls him silly, and asks when they will find wives.

Viet and Nam talk about how far apart they will be when Nam leaves. In a few scenes, they lovingly clean coal dust or blood from each other's bodies. As Nam removes coal from Viet's ears, Viet asks, "How will I hear when you're gone?" While it has a literal meaning, it also reveals a poetic meaning: "How will I exist without you?" As they clutch each other in another scene, Viet repeats, "You will come back," like an oath or mantra.

To search for the remains of Nam's father, Nam and Viet travel with Hoa and Ba to a lush verdant area of Vietnam, contrasting the inky shadows of the coal mine. They visit a museum, silently gazing at piles of human skulls and bones. Along with other families desperately looking for the remains of deceased loved ones, the four go see a psychic (Khanh Ngan) who claims to know where people died. She reenacts a soldier killed, lying on the ground, and supposedly marking the location of an unmarked grave.

They also follow the path that Ba traversed with Nam's father. In one scene, the camera through the trees reveals Viet, Nam, Hoa, and Ba jumping over something the audience cannot see; perhaps a landmine. It subtly indicates that past traumas remain omnipresent.

One of the most striking moments in the film is a sensual sex scene in the mines. Nam and Viet kiss passionately, their bodies entwined. With the twinkling of shards amidst the black coal, it looks like the two men are ensconced by stars. Visually, they exist cosmically, reminiscent of Andrew Haigh's "All of Us Strangers."

A duality permeates as it's sometimes intentionally difficult to know which character, Viet or Nam, is which. The two actors are even credited jointly as the characters in the credits. The film's title and structure are divided in two, with the title card emerging halfway through the film. In the press notes, director Truong Minh Quy said that Ingmar Bergman's "Persona" and Andrei Tarkovsky's "The Mirror" inspired the film, along with the true story of Vietnamese migrants in a shipping container.

A deliberately paced film, "Viet and Nam" leisurely and languidly unfurls its ethereal narrative, love story, and raw emotions. It meditatively conjures a surreal, dreamlike quality as it continuously moves back and forth in time and back and forth from reality to reenactment to dream. The ending delivers a visceral emotional gut punch; yet is it a real fate for the characters, or merely a dream?

While the sensual film centers its gay protagonists and their romance, "Viet and Nam" also tenderly explores the painful past of both individuals and collective society. Punctuated by grounded yet powerful performances, a piercing insight and vision prevails. A haunting viewing experience, it exists in a swirl of poetic emotions reverberating through time.

"Viet and Nam" releases on VOD on May 2, 2025.


by Megan Kearns

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