Chapter 01: Song Lang and the Unspeak-ability of Feelings

***“*Mây chiều khuất bóng ngàn lau

Bâng khuâng muốn hỏi

Vì sao hỡi ánh dương tà*”***

"Gushed over a million reeds, the end of day

Wistfully, one inspects upon the twilight glow

Why?”

I think the most impressive aspect of Song Lang is how the movie feels.

Right from that start, the audience is introduced to a very 80s Vietnam, specifically Saigon. Old communal houses, run-down motorbikes, tangled electric wires, contra video games, and dark alleys that insist on staying in the shadow even when the sun is out. Everything, under the ethereal blur of old film colors, make for an extremely 80s, extremely Vietnamese experience.

But just this much is perhaps not enough to bring Song Lang the reputation it enjoys - and above all, plenty of articles have already sung praises about this. No, there is another aspect of Song Lang that deserves much more recognition - the acting.

The first time Dung (Liem Binh Phat’s character), a good for nothing debt collector, met Linh Phung (Isaac’s character), a heavy-hearted Cai Luong artist, tension was brimming, and not just because Dung was threatening to burn the theatre down if his debt was not to be paid. The way their eyes met, gaze fixed and emotions unreadable, betrayed so many questions about the oppositions. To Dung, it might have been something similar to intrigue. Beholding the boy in front of his eyes, so youthful, so oblivious, yet so passionate - Dung recognized a kind of passion for Cai Luong that he had to bit down with bloody broken lips, a kind of passion that someone like him so desperately want to pursue, but can never do. As for Linh Phung, there is a sense of resigned anger in his eyes. Anger about what? Resigned as to why? There was a silent yet raging storm within him, but we just can not seem to understand why. Not yet.

Eyes are windows to the souls, and nothing describes Song Lang’s acting better than this. Liem Binh Phat and Isaac did wonderful jobs with their respective characters: one numb to brutality, the other numb to emotions, both numb with loneliness - all through an eye-meet. So much has been said about explosive acting, but perhaps when it comes to Song Lang, this article must be written in praise of subtle acting. The acting of the eye, the acting of unspeakable yet raging emotions, the acting that tugged at your heart and made you feel some sort of way you cannot describe, the acting that stirred up emotions you have never known was there, but so powerful that it numbs of you all other thoughts, the acting that you shall not decipher but simply feel.

Just like I have said above, the immersive beauty of Song Lang is something that you must simply feel.

On that note, it is easy to understand why Song Lang might be categorized as an LGBTQ+ movie. The tension between Dung and Linh Phung, the way their eyes met, the way their eyes avoid each other gaze, the stories the share, the subtlety and dear god if I dare to say it - peace - with which they treated each other, all facading the warm, confusing feelings bubbling beneath - it’s been a long time since my heart last dropped for such a dual. The brief moment when Linh Phung fell into Dung as he was beaten in the restaurant, and Dung sprung right back as if he has been waiting for just that one moment - two worlds have inevitably collided. But was it love?

This is rather hard to tell. There has never been any explicit confirmation on screen that Dung and Linh Phung are attracted to each other romantically. No skin ship, no love languages, not to mention that the entire story unfolded in just one night. One night. All that we have to this situation-ship is the lingering looks they share, the looks that are filled with passion, intrigue, and comfort, yet despair, emptiness, and envy - all at the same time.

But passion about what? Each other or their ironic mutual love for Cai Luong? Comfort came from what? A kindling romance or just the coincidental crossing of two lonely souls? The beauty of Song Lang is in its nonchalance, its indefiniteness, its emotional portrayal of all spectrums of human’s relationships. You can understand it as a romance, but at the same time, it might very well just be a story about two polar-opposite human beings numb from the hardships of life, bound together by a mutual love for arts and an unspeakable understanding of men’s loneliness. Song Lang - Two Men. Dung is, in a sense, Linh Phung’s missing half, and Linh Phung is Dung’s other side. Linh Phung convinced Dung that there is more to life than just going down his violent path just because he has resigned to his status quo, and Dung gave Linh Phung the peace and comfort he has so desperately craved since his parents passed away, so that his callused heart can beat once again, passionately and hopefully. In other words, they made each other whole.

I have read countless reviews online about how rushed Dung and Linh Phung’s relationship is and how impractical it feels given they only shared one night together, but I do think that it is only impractical if we force it as love. So why even do that? Why do we have to give something is as flickering yet fiery as human’s emotions a label? Is it even possible to do that?

To me, Dung and Linh Phung’s relationship lies somewhere on the in-between. They could have been lovers, they could have been friends, they could have been none of that or both of that and more. No one really knows. What we do know is the comfort they brought each other, and the novel zest for life that is unfortunately too short living.