A Conversation with Nguyễn Thị Minh Ngọc By Đỗ Lê Anh Đào Nguyen Thi Minh Ngoc is a writer, theatre director, playwright, filmmaker, and educator. She graduated with a degree in Theatre, specializing in directing and actors’ training from the Film & Theatre College of Ho Chi Minh City. Nguyen has also been trained in traditional acting at the Tran Huu Trang Theatre. At the Ho Chi Minh City College of Theatre and Cinema, Nguyen has taught acting and drama. Along with the pen name Ngoc Minh, Nguyen co-founded the Experimental Theatre in Ho Chi Minh City. Her prolific body of work includes 70 traditional and contemporary plays, 30 screenplays (including documentary and feature films), as well as a few essays about theatre and Vietnamese traditional opera. Nguyen has attended numerous festivals and symposiums to write and research about theatre and education in Australia, England, France, Germany, Tanzania, Indonesia, the Philippines, and the U.S. In 2004, Vietnamese television voted her as the “Face of Theatre.” In writing, Nguyen’s desire is to help those who cannot express themselves and to present a correct understanding of the present for later generations. At the Vietnamese International Film Festival 2007, Nguyen Thi Minh Ngoc will present Living in Fear, a film in which she co-wrote the screenplay. AD: What interests you about the filmmaking process? When and why did you begin writing films? NTMN:  After watching The 25th Hour (an adaptation of a work of the same name) by C. Virgil Gheorghiu, having seen the tearful smile of Anthony Quinn in front of his children of many colors, even though he was arrested on his wedding day without having a chance to consummate the marriage, I saw that the film had a unique way of expressing the human condition, a manner that other genres were incapable of telling and releasing. AD: Can you give us a short summary of Living in Fear? A former southern Vietnamese soldier returns from a re-education camp and is faced with many difficult challenges within a post-war society. His life is also complicated by the fact that he has two wives. He is thus driven to find a livelihood in a land ruled by death within the minefields. The screenplay is based upon the life of Ngo Duc Nhat. Ngo Duc Nhat cleared more than 2,000 land mines, even though a more professional mine-removing crew suffered many more deaths within the same field. He lost his life right after receiving a certificate of ownership to that field. The Shanghai Film Festival 2006’s web description of this film reads: “Living in Fear has painted a portrait of the wounds left by the war in the daily lives of the Vietnamese people, the lives that carried unspoken pressures and many worries.” AD: Living in Fear was a collaboration between you and the director, Bui Thac Chuyen. Can you tell us how the two of you started working together? How did you decide on the storyline for the movie? NTMN: I attended a program called, “Windows to Asia,” with Chuyen. I also saw [Chuyen’s] The Digger, which was a documentary of the same story, and I really liked the character. When Chuyen had the idea of making a feature film from this story, the director, Tran My Ha, introduced him to me. AD: What are the main messages of the film that you are trying to convey to the audience? NTMN: Within the title of the film lies the message: Every human being has a right to life  -- no matter how many fears we live with. Chuyen really liked the title, From Bottoms Up, From Tops Down, to describe the technique of removing a bomb from a landmine. AD: The film is set during the period of time after the civil war in Viet Nam had ended. Unlike most other Vietnamese filmmakers in the diaspora, Living in Fear explores the lives of the Vietnamese people who remained in post-1975 Viet Nam. I think this is a very refreshing perspective. Does this relate to your experience of living in Viet Nam for a long time after the war ended? NTMN: I believe that it doesn’t matter where Vietnamese people are living. No one wants to live in poverty, misery, ignorance, or without freedom. Along with time, effort, and genuine intentions, I believe that the truth, kindness, and beauty of the Vietnamese people will always be manifested, wherever they are. After seeing a few of my works, some people see a common denominator: the value of patience. It is also a value that foreigners, who come to Viet Nam, should learn, especially in terms of cultural collaborations. AD: One of the most stunning aspects of Living in Fear was the beautiful yet tragic portrayal of Viet Nam’s countryside. Why did you choose to tell your story in the country instead of the city? NTMN: Thank you for the observation. After writing a traditional opera called Thiên Hộ Võ Duy Dương, I discovered that the French had killed many villagers along the Mekong River because they were a part of the resistance movement. They are people without names; and to this day, their children and grandchildren do not have the opportunities to pursue education and knowledge. Who will speak on their behalf about this injustice?  After my travels in the countryside of South and Central Viet Nam, I think that my contributions are still so insignificant. AD: As a writer, a significant amount of your works is focused on women’s perspectives, as seen through your speech at the Women Playwrights International, “Finding our Voices: Speaking a Common Language through Maternal Instincts.” Living in Fear tells the story of a man who has two wives as a result of the war. Can you tell us a little more about that? Is this story about the fate of women in war? NTMN: This screenplay was changed around ten times. In one of the previous versions, there was one where the government official also went to give birth, along with the main character’s two wives, because she was also a woman and deserved a chance to give birth. Despite times of war or peace, whether in the East or the West, during ancient or modern times, women, in fact, have created men. Again, we have to emphasize the value of patience when we speak of the fate of Vietnamese women in a time of war. In war, many women are forced to use a weapon that men do not have: the weapon of beauty. I have met many women who have used this weapon but lived lives of loneliness and emptiness after the war. Because you mentioned this essay, let’s borrow its conclusion to end the conversation. The notion is that we, as women creators, often want to send a message to those who challenge us in our process of begetting and distributing works. There is a saying that mothers ask their children after they have removed their very own hearts to give as presents of love: “Does it hurt, my child?”