This is a kind of Cinderella tale set in Saigon during the 1950s in which the yin and yang principles of the masculine element and the feminine are acted out. We find ourselves in the airy, beautifully-appointed house of a well-to-do merchant family that has just hired a new servant. She is ten-year-old Mùi, played with grace and a kind of magical innocence by Man San Lu, who bestows her beatific little smile on all the little wonders of the world she sees around her. She learns her job quickly and works hard, always with a positive attitude. She loves all living things including insects and frogs. She tolerates the boorish behavior of the youngest son of the household who directs some indelicate gestures in her direction. Like a Taoist monk she just observes, judges not and says nothing.
Well, we know somebody is going to take notice of this splendid jeune fille, some wise young man, and when she comes of age, marry her and elevate her station in life. Meanwhile the head of household squanders the family's funds and ten years pass. Now the family is almost broke and Mùi is sent to be the housekeeper and cook for Khuyen, played attractively by Hoa Hoi Vuong. She is now played by Tran Nu Yên-Khê who falls in love with the young man who is a classical pianist. Unfortunately he has a girl friend, a stylish woman of the city from a well-to-family. Finally we have a bit of tension!
This, then, is an 'art house' movie in which director Anh Hung Tran tells the story primarily with images and symbolism, and that he does very well. But the disjunction of the two very slight plots is never overcome, and the startling lack of any tension until near the end is disappointing. The central image of the film, the green papaya with the immature seeds inside representing the potential of the little girl is however not to be forgotten.
What carries this slow-moving extended vignette of ante-bellum Saigon, and saves us from abject boredom are the beautiful sets nestled in greenery with the Buddhist artwork, the wooden Venetian-slotted doors, the partitions, the lattice work, the vases, the statues, the charming music, both eastern and western, the intensively focused cinematography, and the charm of ten-year-old Man San Lu. Many viewers, however charmed, will not stay for the finale, which will be too bad because it is in the later stages of the film that the fairy-tale quality of the film is fully realized. Mùi of course has come of age, and the developing love affair is revealed purely through camera work without any dialogue.
Incidentally, I was somewhat surprised to learn that this beautifully rendered film was shot not on locale in Saigon, Vietnam where the action takes place, but in a Paris studio! This makes me imagine that the trees, especially the papaya tree in the central courtyard, and the little animals, the frogs and geckos were shipped in. It also makes me realize that the ants that the one boy drips hot candle wax on, the ants that Mùi admires and her cricket in a cage are most likely Parisians.
(Note: Over 500 of my movie reviews are now available in my book "Cut to the Chaise Lounge or I Can't Believe I Swallowed the Remote!" Get it at Amazon!)
Well, we know somebody is going to take notice of this splendid jeune fille, some wise young man, and when she comes of age, marry her and elevate her station in life. Meanwhile the head of household squanders the family's funds and ten years pass. Now the family is almost broke and Mùi is sent to be the housekeeper and cook for Khuyen, played attractively by Hoa Hoi Vuong. She is now played by Tran Nu Yên-Khê who falls in love with the young man who is a classical pianist. Unfortunately he has a girl friend, a stylish woman of the city from a well-to-family. Finally we have a bit of tension!
This, then, is an 'art house' movie in which director Anh Hung Tran tells the story primarily with images and symbolism, and that he does very well. But the disjunction of the two very slight plots is never overcome, and the startling lack of any tension until near the end is disappointing. The central image of the film, the green papaya with the immature seeds inside representing the potential of the little girl is however not to be forgotten.
What carries this slow-moving extended vignette of ante-bellum Saigon, and saves us from abject boredom are the beautiful sets nestled in greenery with the Buddhist artwork, the wooden Venetian-slotted doors, the partitions, the lattice work, the vases, the statues, the charming music, both eastern and western, the intensively focused cinematography, and the charm of ten-year-old Man San Lu. Many viewers, however charmed, will not stay for the finale, which will be too bad because it is in the later stages of the film that the fairy-tale quality of the film is fully realized. Mùi of course has come of age, and the developing love affair is revealed purely through camera work without any dialogue.
Incidentally, I was somewhat surprised to learn that this beautifully rendered film was shot not on locale in Saigon, Vietnam where the action takes place, but in a Paris studio! This makes me imagine that the trees, especially the papaya tree in the central courtyard, and the little animals, the frogs and geckos were shipped in. It also makes me realize that the ants that the one boy drips hot candle wax on, the ants that Mùi admires and her cricket in a cage are most likely Parisians.
(Note: Over 500 of my movie reviews are now available in my book "Cut to the Chaise Lounge or I Can't Believe I Swallowed the Remote!" Get it at Amazon!)