"Co Gai Tren Song" (Girl on the River) opens with Nguyet (Minh Chau) recounting her history to a sympathetic journalist after release from a re-education camp in post-1975 unified Vietnam.
During the war, Nguyet worked from her own boat as a prostitute on the Perfume River (Song Huong) in Hue. She recalls her difficult relationship with a planned husband and the night she helped a communist fighter. He holds out a brighter future for their country.
Centrally located Hue was under the control of the Saigon regime until its fall to the communist authorities in 1975. The story subsequently switches to "liberated" Vietnam and deals with the outcome of her involvement with the two men in her life. The journalist faces her own battle in getting the story passed the censors. There is a twist to the tale and the outcome remains unclear to the end.
Co Gai Tren Song is one of the first Vietnamese-made films made in colour. It tackles controversial subjects including corruption, prostitution, broken promises, hypocrisy and censorship. By implication it is critical of the incumbent communist regime. The film is a breakthrough - both in the use of colour and in that for the first time a regime with such a tight control over the media is seen to soften its grip.
Some of Dang Nhat Minh's scenes may seem naive by western standards, and the sound track at some times odd. The viewer must be generous in these respects and other technical limitations. For every such shortcoming, a carefully crafted detail is waiting to be appreciated. For example, Nguyet's choice of the "Salem" brand of cigarettes (popular with South Vietnamese army officers in pre-1975 South Vietnam) or the communist official's house with its fridge, Hi-Fi system and whiskey - the very kind of decadence that the system stood against. There is much to endear this film. Who can fail to be thoroughly taken by the haunting melody of the song "Toi dua em sang song" as US soldiers (played by Cubans) dance with their Vietnamese companions against the backdrop of the Perfume River? Or the oil lamp swinging to-and-fro inside Nguyet's boat, illuminating her fearful face then plunging it into darkness as she awaits boarding by the river police?
"Co Gai Tren Song" was extremely popular on its release in Vietnam but was only intended for domestic consumption. During the 1990s it did make a number of international film festivals. In today's Vietnam with ready access to more modern films both international and home made, Dang Nhat Minh's masterpiece is forgotten by all but the most enthusiastic film buffs.
But for students of recent Vietnamese political history, travellers interested in seeing how an Asian destination was before the arrival of mass tourism and prosperity, or those seeking a locally made film with an alternative angle on a war so well covered by Hollywood, this milestone is a must.
A love story - but more captivating as a representation of a transitional period of Vietnamese history.
During the war, Nguyet worked from her own boat as a prostitute on the Perfume River (Song Huong) in Hue. She recalls her difficult relationship with a planned husband and the night she helped a communist fighter. He holds out a brighter future for their country.
Centrally located Hue was under the control of the Saigon regime until its fall to the communist authorities in 1975. The story subsequently switches to "liberated" Vietnam and deals with the outcome of her involvement with the two men in her life. The journalist faces her own battle in getting the story passed the censors. There is a twist to the tale and the outcome remains unclear to the end.
Co Gai Tren Song is one of the first Vietnamese-made films made in colour. It tackles controversial subjects including corruption, prostitution, broken promises, hypocrisy and censorship. By implication it is critical of the incumbent communist regime. The film is a breakthrough - both in the use of colour and in that for the first time a regime with such a tight control over the media is seen to soften its grip.
Some of Dang Nhat Minh's scenes may seem naive by western standards, and the sound track at some times odd. The viewer must be generous in these respects and other technical limitations. For every such shortcoming, a carefully crafted detail is waiting to be appreciated. For example, Nguyet's choice of the "Salem" brand of cigarettes (popular with South Vietnamese army officers in pre-1975 South Vietnam) or the communist official's house with its fridge, Hi-Fi system and whiskey - the very kind of decadence that the system stood against. There is much to endear this film. Who can fail to be thoroughly taken by the haunting melody of the song "Toi dua em sang song" as US soldiers (played by Cubans) dance with their Vietnamese companions against the backdrop of the Perfume River? Or the oil lamp swinging to-and-fro inside Nguyet's boat, illuminating her fearful face then plunging it into darkness as she awaits boarding by the river police?
"Co Gai Tren Song" was extremely popular on its release in Vietnam but was only intended for domestic consumption. During the 1990s it did make a number of international film festivals. In today's Vietnam with ready access to more modern films both international and home made, Dang Nhat Minh's masterpiece is forgotten by all but the most enthusiastic film buffs.
But for students of recent Vietnamese political history, travellers interested in seeing how an Asian destination was before the arrival of mass tourism and prosperity, or those seeking a locally made film with an alternative angle on a war so well covered by Hollywood, this milestone is a must.
A love story - but more captivating as a representation of a transitional period of Vietnamese history.
