Synopsis
In Tsuen Wan, Hong Kong, the elderly Lam Po Wah dreams of returning to scenes from her childhood photos; in Saigon, Vietnam, a documentary director, Ah Wei, holding a family photo taken 70 years ago embarks on a journey of exploration. The filmmaker is deeply moved by the stories of the Teochew diaspora, who have faced numerous challenges abroad while yearning for their distant relatives.
However, the once-familiar Saigon has been transformed by the ravages of war, making the filmmaker’s quest increasingly difficult. Just as hope seems to wane, an unexpected encounter breathes new life into his journey.
As he meanders through the rich tapestry of Saigon’s history, the filmmaker is drawn into the conversations and landscapes in Teochew, he has heard about from Po Wah. The striking similarities between Saigon and the filmmaker’s homeland evoke a surreal, dreamlike state. He grapples with the interplay between reality and memory, finding it hard to separate present-day Saigon from his vivid recollections.
Chen Jianhang
CHEN Jianhang is an independent filmmaker originally from Chaozhou, China, who grew up in the marginal region of the Han River Delta. Selected for the 2020 International Film Festival Rotterdam (IFFR) Sessions workshop, his films often blur the boundaries between documentary and fiction. CHEN's work focuses on the Teochew diaspora, exploring their living spaces and spiritual beliefs both in their homeland and scattered worldwide.
Director's statement
In the mid-20th century, the First Vietnam War War uprooted many Vietnamese Chinese. Born in Saigon, Pui Wah spent her youth trapped by the war in Cambodia. In 1966, they moved to Puning in Teochew, only to face the turmoil of the Cultural Revolution. Though the smoke of war cleared, its scars lingered. Such tragedies persist today, with many drifting unseen through time.
By early 2023, this project had been filmed for two years in documentary form. A short film funding opportunity has sparked the idea of developing it into a feature film, allowing for more creative freedom in the storytelling. Intrigued by the Teochew diaspora and their generational memories, I would love to infuse my imagination and contemplation into the film: How would they have lived without the war? How can my film best capture historical truth?
The film’s Chinese title, “ong6 a7 ong6,” is derived from a Teochew lullaby, evoking the rhythm of a swaying ship. I aim to use touch as a bridge to the past, stirring memories and emotions. War may divide us, but only rivers and mountains recount the memories.
