From the New York Times

August 19, 2007
Movie Spans Vietnam's North - South Divide
By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
Filed at 11:42 a.m. ET
HANOI, Vietnam (AP) -- A new breed of characters has replaced the old communist heroes on Vietnam's big screens: hustlers and dancing girls, drug dealers and cross-dressers.
But perhaps the most startling character of all is Tai, a soldier from the former South Vietnamese army. In a nation where anti-communist soldiers were traditionally cast as villains, ''Living in Fear'' portrays Tai sympathetically.
Vietnam's film world is changing fast. The government is easing control over content, old taboos are fading, and private money is for the first time entering an industry that was entirely state-run until 2003.
The changes reflect the broader transformation of Vietnamese society, where the economy has been booming over the last decade as the government has eased economic controls and made room for private enterprise.
''I was surprised that the government allowed my film to be shown,'' said director Bui Thac Chuyen, 39. ''The censorship committee didn't cut anything.''
In fact, ''Living in Fear'' may suit the communist government's purpose; Ever since the war between North Vietnam and U.S.-supported South Vietnam ended in 1975, it has made reconciling north and south a top priority and still hangs out banners promoting ''doan ket,'' or unity.
The film, while financed with government grants, has an independent spirit befitting its director, a northerner who admires Quentin Tarantino and Stanley Kubrick. It is based in part on the experiences of a real-life southern soldier who spent 15 years clearing unexploded ordnance from his farm.
Tai is struggling with a complicated personal life -- he has two wives -- and with a daily reality that invites viewers' sympathy.
Each time he picks up a land mine on his 10-acre farm, we wonder whether it's going to blow up in his hands. Each time he goes into the field, we wonder whether he'll return.
''I wanted to show that no matter what side you were on in the war, when it was over, we all started in a land scarred from bombs,'' Chuyen said. ''But we can adapt and overcome.''
Southern soldiers suffered discrimination for years after the war. They were indoctrinated with Marxist dogma in ''re-education camps'' and had trouble finding anything better than menial jobs. Their children were turned away from schools and universities.
Today, the old wounds have mostly healed, although regional differences remain strong. ''Living in Fear'' nudges reconciliation along by portraying both northerners and southerners in shades of gray.
Chuyen's film has been screened at several international festivals and U.S. colleges but hasn't found a U.S. commercial distributor. It was among the last produced under the old government system. Now moviemaking has become a full-blown commercial industry, typified by the crowds that flocked to 2003's ''Dancing Girls,'' which dealt with previously off-limits themes such as drug addiction and prostitution.
''The prospects are bright,'' said Tran Vu Hoai, president of Galaxy Studios in Hanoi. ''People have more money, and they're looking for new entertainment experiences.''
Instead of grungy state-run theaters showing formulaic films, American-style cineplexes are springing up complete with air conditioning, comfy seats, big screens and popcorn.
Galaxy has opened two 1,000-seat, three-screen theaters in Ho Chi Minh City, the former Saigon, and plans to build two more, plus two in Hanoi. The company is also producing its own unabashedly commercial films to packed audiences.
The most successful so far is ''Two In One,'' a slapstick comedy about a man impersonating a woman -- and falling in love with a real woman who doesn't know he's actually a man.
Under the old state-run system, which produced some quality films despite its limitations, most directors were trained in the Soviet Union. A new generation is studying in the United States, some sponsored by the Ford Foundation, which is sending several directors to the University of Southern California's film school.
Michael DiGregorio, who manages Ford's cultural programs in Hanoi, hopes the budding filmmakers will document the rapid social changes in Vietnam by telling compelling human stories.
''The more the Vietnamese free themselves from the sort of stereotypical films they made in the past, the better they will be able to represent the world as it is today,'' DiGregorio said.