In Vietnamese cinema, the female figure has long been employed to deliver macro-level messages rather than just mundane narratives.
The period from 1975 to 1986 marked a major transition in the history of local cinema. According to Lịch sử Điện ảnh Việt Nam (The History of Vietnam Cinema) by playwright Nguyễn Thị Hồng Ngát, this era saw a shift from propaganda productions to more realist films and projects with mass appeal. After đổi mới, local filmmakers have created compelling characters in roles like grandmas, mothers, and sisters to symbolize the resilience and courage of Vietnamese people as they adapted to the nation’s economic, cultural, and social changes.
The ups and downs of a nascent cinematic industry
In 1986, Vietnam transformed from a planned economy to a market economy, bringing about numerous shifts in the lives of citizens. Cinema was one of the mass communication mediums that strikingly reflected these transformations. If the colonial decades gave rise to documentaries and shorts, cinema projects during the rise of socialism in northern Vietnam ushered in some novelty.
Still, the majority of films then were still revolving around war times, labor, and manufacturing, such as Vợ chồng A Phủ (1961), Chị Tư Hậu (1963), Vĩ tuyến 17 ngày và đêm (1972), Em bé Hà Nội (1974), etc. This period gave us a number of talented filmmakers, even though film productions were tightly regulated in both content and execution by the Department of Cinema.
In the south, though there were war-themed movies, like Từ Sài Gòn đến Điện Biên Phủ (1970), the cinematic landscape comprised broader genres like comedies, including Tứ quái Sài Gòn (1973) and Năm vua hề về làng (1974); and romantic dramas like Chân trời tím (1971) and Sau giờ giới nghiêm (1972). In 1975, a range of subjects were featured in local films, even though the most popular titles were mostly war-related, like Mối tình đầu (1977), Mẹ vắng nhà (1979) and Cánh đồng hoang (1979).
Following đổi mới, the market economy resulted in a boom in commercial films, most notably the advent of “mì ăn liền” (instant noodles) projects. These low-stake, accessible, cheaply produced, and easy-to-watch flicks became considerably popular, leading to the rise of Vietnam’s first generation of movie stars like Lý Hùng, Thu Hà, Diễm Hương, and Việt Trinh. Towards the end of the 1990s, the genre lost its mass appeal as art house flicks and foreign collaborations arrived. Projects about Vietnam but helmed by foreign auteurs of Vietnamese descent — such as Trần Anh Hùng (The Scent of Green Papaya) and Tony Bùi (Three Seasons) — were recognized by international film festivals.
“A mother, a wife, a soldier”
The Nguyễn Dynasty, Vietnam’s last period under absolute monarchy, was significantly influenced by Confucianism in how it governed the country. The spread of Confucius teachings became less influential the more southward one moved. Australian historian Barbara Watson Andaya, whose research centers on women’s history in Southeast Asia, wrote that Vietnam during this era wasn’t just dominated by patriarchal beliefs, so matriarchal orders were still followed, and the role of the woman was still respected.
Films that came out before đổi mới often chose to elevate the role of women through their wartime contributions. In these cases, women were both brave fighters on the battlefield and dependable support behind the scenes. Standout characters included the mother and sister figures in Mẹ vắng nhà (1979), Em bé Hà Nội (1974) and Bao giờ cho đến tháng Mười (1984).
The majority of female characters featured in movies of this period were involved in the revolution, like those in Đến hẹn lại lên (dir. Trần Vũ, 1974) and Cánh đồng hoang (dir. Vương Hồng Sến, 1979). Many of these were well-received when sent to film festivals organized by the Soviet Union. Nonetheless, besides being celebrated for their war utility, motherhood and sisterhood, few female roles could escape their main use: to consolidate and promote wartime paradigms.
More resources but less mental freedom?
From đổi mới onwards, the role of Vietnamese women in film expanded from just revolutionary icons or reminders of a time of loss and trauma. They started taking on new purposes to reflect the hopes, personal ambitions and new image of the nation in a new age.
The economic reform in 1986 gave way to private enterprises. Women could return to markets to open stores, bringing about the development of street vendors and family businesses operated by female members of the household. Private companies and foreign-invested firms also helped increase gender equality in the workforce. There was a noticeable increase in the number of young women living in urban areas with a stable career. They were afforded more freedom in their choices of entertainment and socialization compared to the previous generation.
Nonetheless, in her article “Gender in Post-Doi Moi Vietnam: Women, desire, and change,” human geographer Lisa Drummond pointed out that even though the economic reform ushered in many changes in the life of Vietnamese women, it also accentuated gender issues that have long been present in the culture. Cultural gender norms and chauvinistic traits in the local society couldn’t be toppled in a day, even though they weren’t as ingrained as before.
During this period, the Vietnamese woman always felt she had to balance between traditional expectations and contemporary ambitions. She had to maneuver the family’s urge for a firstborn son in response to the state’s family planning policies, hide their sexual needs amid the morally oppressive climate of rural Vietnam, while harboring hopes for a better working environment and living condition in the new era of the market economy.
Private and reticent, but not losing their voice
These gender issues were depicted quite prominently in Cô gái trên sông (dir. Đặng Nhật Minh, 1987) and Mùi đu đủ xanh (dir. Trần Anh Hùng, 1993). How these cinematic works portrayed male-female dynamics and relationships between characters showed that gender norms were very clearly defined in our collective minds. As such, men are defined by powerful personae who are intelligent but irresponsible; while women are modest, reserved, faithful and selfless.
Đặng Nhật Minh is amongst the directors who contributed the most to the growth of Vietnamese cinema. As an auteur, he expressed much sympathy for Vietnamese women. After it was released, Cô gái trên sông faced significant censure to the point of nearly getting banned from screening, as it was deemed to be too “tarnishing” to the image of the soldier.
A realist take on the war genre, Cô gái trên sông caused an uproar due to how it presented the revolutionist soldier as a player, and showed compassion for the main character, a sex worker. The synopsis revolves around Nguyệt, a prostitute living on a boat on the Hương River, and her quest to find a soldier whom she saved from enemy pursuit. When peace is achieved, she hopes to reunite with him, but her dream is shattered when that man, now a high-ranking official, completely brushes aside their connection.
In Cô gái trên sông, Nguyệt’s boldness proved the production’s push to dethrone long-established beliefs about women, how they love, and how they express that love. Besides, its portrayal of the revolutionary soldier as a heartbreaker and one from across the enemy line was faithful and provided a refreshing perspective for cinema at the time, especially when compared to the propaganda films of past centuries. Over the span of his career, even though the majority of Minh’s films were supported by the government, he found ways to edge by, expressing a strong personal voice and airing out his concerns for the country and its people.
Two of this works received support from the British and Japanese governments, respectively: Trở về (1994) and Thương nhớ đồng quê (1996). Both chronicle the journeys of women amid the nation’s cultural shifts in the market economy: urban women have access to spaces to unwind, socialize, and meet new people, enjoying a rich social life; while rural women lack opportunities to expand their social circles. Most of them were confined by strict moral codes and heavy expectations from society to fulfill their predestined roles as wives and mothers.
After 1986, Vietnam’s reopening to the world resulted in a number of cinematic works by foreign directors of Vietnamese descent being introduced to local watchers. Most notably, there was Mùi đu đủ xanh (1993), Trần Anh Hùng’s first-ever long feature. It became his most critically acclaimed work of the decade, clinching many international nominations and accolades.
Surrounding Trần Anh Hùng’s oeuvre, debates about “traditions” and “identities” seem never-ending. In Mùi đu đủ xanh, he portrayed an archetypal Vietnamese family, its time-honored customs, and palpable patriarchy via the role of the oldest son in the household. These family hierarchies were deeply entrenched in the minds of female characters, be it in the city or the countryside.
Trần Anh Hùng’s Mùi đu đủ xanh is a distinctively Asian love story — right beside the devotion of the woman lies the void of the man in the family. The plot follows Mùi, a young girl who moves to Saigon to be a live-in maid for a family of northern descent. Mùi, with her deep sensitivity, can detect the cracks and trauma in a seemingly harmonious household.
The mother and the grandma both have to endure the indifference and coldness of the family’s patriarchs. Their efforts and subtle sacrifices remain unsung. Even Mùi, when it comes to her own love journey, chooses to blend in the shadow, taking care of the one she loves from afar, as there’s already a fiance beside him, who’s superior to her in both appearance and poise.
In the movie, the Asian woman’s affection is juxtaposed with the passion of western expressions of love. It highlights how Mùi slowly overcomes the gender hurdles a rural woman often faces to step into the world of her crush, who was educated in the west and deeply influenced by its open lifestyle. In general, with the addition of diasporic films, especially those of Trần Anh Hùng, women in Vietnamese cinema after đổi mới became more multifaceted — at times, still modest, reserved, and obedient, but also strong-willed, progressive, and assertive when it comes to their own existence in the society.
The country shifts when women shift
In addition to highlighting gender issues of the Vietnamese society at the time, filmmakers also imbued their aspirations about the future of the country through women’s individual dreams. Two features that exemplified this trait were Lưỡi dao (dir. Lê Hoàng, 1995) and Ba mùa (dir. Tony Bùi, 1999).
Lưỡi dao came out during the apex of Lê Hoàng’s career, according to many critics. The film is set in 1975 in southern Vietnam, following the life of Nguyệt. After her family perishes during the war, Nguyệt comes to detest the revolutionary army. As her suspicion and fear abate through time, she discovers a shocking truth that forces her to choose between romance and honor. This character is a strong symbol of the efforts to heal wartime wounds, erasing decades of vengefulness that once plagued the nation.
Meanwhile, Ba mùa, a feature film by Vietnamese American director Tony Bùi, sets up a Vietnamese landscape that’s admittedly quite romanticized, but still carries the spirits of the era. Released three years after the sanctions on Vietnam were lifted, it tells the stories of different female characters living in Saigon during this opening of the economy.
Ba mùa delivers segments that are colorful and sensitive to the intersection of old and new, traditions and modernity. Each woman in the movie represents a different value. Lan, a sex worker, seeks a wealthy life, trying her best to not repeat her mother’s miserable fate; she represents career ambitions and the preservation of youth. An, who was hired to pick lotus blossoms, touches the heart of her leprosy-stricken employer with her singing; she represents Asian intangible values, much like the pristine lotus that she collects.
If Lan is modern, pragmatic, and quick to leave behind the traditional mindset, An is a traditional woman, symbolizing the dissection of the old orders. Even though they come from different castes of society and make different choices, they both strive for change, hopes, and the dream to continue living even after hurt and destitution — just like how Vietnam was trying step by step to overcome an embattled history and its consequences to turn a new leaf.
Decades after đổi mới, these cinematic works are still recognized by the public and critics as the golden age of Vietnamese cinematic history. Their creators deftly brought the female figure out of revolutionary cinema’s entrenched archetypes. They supported female characters’ rights to live with their own concerns, issues, and dreams, ultimately painting a picture of a growing Vietnam amid a new era’s attitudes, standards, and refreshing perspectives about women.