Lost in Saigon

You have to love a film whose main character is a 10-year-old girl who isn’t a smart-mouthed brat. Thanks to Stephane Gauger for taking the high road with Owl and the Sparrow. We’ve had far too many films in recent years centered around horrible little kids with no conscience.

Thuy, central character of Owl and the Sparrow, is a child laborer in a village outside of Saigon being exploited by her uncle who owns a bamboo blind-making factory. After being yelled at and humiliated one too many times, Thuy takes her Barbie backpack and what little money she has saved and runs to the city. There she meets some people who are remarkably kind to her, supplying her with food and a place to sleep.

After she finds a job as a flower merchant, she meets Lan, a flight attendant, and Hai, a zookeeper. Seeing that both of these adults are very lonely, she goes about setting them up together. At the same time, she is hiding from her uncle, who has come to take her back, and the city worker, charged with placing abandoned children into orphanages.

This film has the same mood as Sophia Coppola’s Lost in Translation. Everything from the music to the crowded city scenes to the storyline feels like it has been done before. Even the lack of neatly tied ends is similar. However, the story is so genuinely told and the characters so natural that viewers can’t help falling in love with this tale. There is one drawback, however.

The overuse of reality television camerawork is a little annoying. I have no idea why filmmakers are embracing this technique but I hope they stop soon. It detracts from most films rather than adding to them, as do the intrusive close ups that are reminiscent of commercials for products like deodorant and soft drinks. There is no real reason to tell a story like this using a handheld camera. It feels invasive and since this isn’t an action film, the wavering, jittery camerawork is off-putting. At least, at first.

Once you get into the film the horrible camerawork ceases to be a problem. You simply don’t notice it as much because the story is so well told. While that is no excuse for lousy cinematography, it is enough of a consolation that you can actually enjoy this film.

For anyone who enjoyed Lost in Translation, Owl and The Sparrow will be a welcome addition to their list of must-have films.

Anyone who didn’t like the former should most definitely skip the latter. Although the film is enjoyable on its own, it is so similar in mood and tone that it can’t escape comparison. Gauger apparently believed that if this film style worked for Coppola, it would work for him.

Whether, you’re fan or not, this is a good film. It’s about real choices in real life situations, none of which are resolved neatly or without consequences.