Mắt Biếc (Dreamy Eyes, 2019): A 1970s Vietnamese Tale of First Love

Victor Vũ's Mắt Biếc (Dreamy Eyes) is a film adaptation of Nguyễn Nhật Ánh's best-selling young adult novel of the same name. Mắt Biếc adopts Ngạn's (Trần Nghĩa) perspective, focusing on his childhood and young adulthood. Ngạn was born and raised in Đo Đo village with Hà Lan (Trúc Anh), a girl he says to have beautiful “dreamy eyes”. Ngạn falls in love with Hà Lan at first sight. Later, they both move to Saigon to study. However, despite Ngan's faithful love for Hà Lan, Hà Lan's inability to resist the hustle and bustle of life in Saigon leads to an unexpected revelation, one that will impact the relationship and the affection between these two childhood friends.

Through the film, the audience will experience Vũ's nostalgic visuals for 1970s Vietnam through the lighting and production design of the peaceful village scenes and Saigon cityscape. The stark contrast between Saigon and the countryside serves to highlight the contrast between Ngạn and Hà Lan's personalities. Mainly, the film evokes Ngan's blind love for Hà Lan through Trần Nghĩa’s physical (and especially his facial and eye) acting. Through this acting and the film’s imagery, Mắt Biếc shows the viewers Ngạn's strong feelings regarding Saigon and his association of Hà Lan with Đo Đo village. Similarly, in Trúc Anh’s performance as Hà Lan, we see the emotional turmoil in balancing her relationship with Ngạn and her own personal needs. Phan Mạnh Quỳnh’s original song "Có Chàng Trai Viết Lên Cây" accentuates Ngạn's mental association of Đo Đo with Hà Lan, the childhood he cannot escape from, and the reality he tries to manufacture. By film’s end, only Ngạn can resolve his emotional struggle with Hà Lan's dreamy eyes and the differences of rural and urban life, with Hà Lan's dreamy eyes haunting him still.

Digging deeper into the film's visual storytelling, one can't help but be struck by the deliberate pacing and framing. Vũ masterfully crafts each scene, allowing the audience to linger in the quiet moments of Đo Đo, absorbing the lush greenery and the gentle rhythm of village life. This deliberate slowness contrasts sharply with the frantic energy of Saigon, a city that pulsates with life, yet feels strangely alienating to Ngạn. The cinematography, with its warm, golden hues in Đo Đo and the cooler, more sterile tones of Saigon, reinforces this emotional divide. It's not just about showing us two locations; it's about making us feel the emotional weight of Ngạn's displacement.

Trần Nghĩa's portrayal of Ngạn is a masterclass in restrained emotion. His eyes, often filled with a quiet longing or a simmering resentment, speak volumes. He communicates Ngạn's inner turmoil not through bombastic pronouncements, but through subtle shifts in expression, a slight tightening of the jaw, a lingering gaze. He makes us understand Ngạn's almost obsessive devotion, the way he clings to the past as a refuge from the present.

And Trúc Anh, as Hà Lan, avoids the trap of becoming a caricature. She navigates the complexities of her character with nuance, showing us a young woman caught between two worlds, driven by a desire for something more, yet burdened by the guilt of leaving Ngạn behind. Her struggle is palpable, her desire for independence clashing with the weight of expectation.

Phan Mạnh Quỳnh's song, "Có Chàng Trai Viết Lên Cây," serves as a poignant emotional anchor, a recurring motif that underscores Ngạn's yearning. It's not just a soundtrack; it's a voice in Ngạn's head, a constant reminder of what he's lost, or perhaps, what he never truly had. The lyrics, simple yet evocative, paint a picture of a love that's both beautiful and unattainable.

Ultimately, Mắt Biếc is more than just a coming-of-age story. It's a meditation on memory, longing, and the often-painful process of letting go. It's a film that lingers in the mind, its visuals and emotions resonating long after the credits roll. It asks us to consider the ways in which we romanticize the past, and the price we pay for clinging to illusions.

This song? It's Ngạn's heart in a melody