As a nation, we are irredeemably doomed. We used to be a cultured people -- culture, not intellect or diplomas. We used to believe in love instead of endless appetite or material pursuit. We used to have a real sense of humor, not brainless repetitive jokes. We used to look up to beauty instead of looking down at pointless distractions. Most importantly, we used to make films -- real, watchable, meaningful, communal films for the masses -- ones for families to gather around an old TV set and marvel at (Pedro Costa's Soviet dream -- "Warhol's TV") -- not high-end popcorn-chewing, cola-sucking, forgettable entertainment, nor postmodernist artsy cinema for pretentious international critic and filmbro circles that no one else cares to see or is encouraged to.
But we've forgotten all that.
Continue reading “While watching ‘Vị đắng tình yêu’”
