Vietnamese cinema experienced a watershed moment at the 28th Far East Film Festival in Udine, Italy.
Long recognized as a vital European hub for Asian film, the festival’s 2026 edition, which ran from April 24 to May 2, went beyond mere representation, turning into a platform where Vietnamese narratives commanded attention and critical acclaim. Four Vietnamese films were selected for screening: Leon Lê’s Quán Kỳ Nam (Ky Nam Inn), Hàm Trần’s Tử chiến trên không (Hijacked), Bùi Thạc Chuyên’s Địa đạo: Mặt trời trong bóng tối (Tunnels: Sun in the Dark) and Phan Gia Nhật Linh’s Đại tiệc trăng máu 8 (Blood Moon Rite 8).
The festival's reception confirmed a shift in momentum. Bùi Thạc Chuyên's Địa đạo won both the Mulberry Award for Best Screenplay and the Crystal Mulberry audience award, marking the first time a Vietnamese film has won even one award in the festival's history.
The success extended beyond the screen. Two ongoing film projects were selected for the Focus Asia in-production industry sidebar program: Dear Sơn An, directed by Bùi Kim Quy (produced by Varan, Vietnam, and A Company Film, Germany) in its All Genres Project Market 2026, and Chớp bóng (Picturehouse), directed by Nguyễn Võ Nghiêm Minh (produced by Girelle Production, France, East Films, Vietnam, Add Oil Films, Singapore, and Daluyong Studio, Philippines) for the Far East in Progress 2026 initiative.
Industry insiders at the festival noted that films finding audiences and projects securing international partnerships signal the transition of Vietnamese cinema from the margins to the global stage.
The more local we stay, the further we can travel
For decades, international perceptions of Vietnam were shaped by external narratives. As FEFF curator and consultant Nguyên Lê points out, the country was often reduced to a jungle backdrop or a conflict zone in American-led stories.
When it comes to defining or understanding Vietnamese cinema, there have historically been two approaches, Nguyên notes: “Any film about Vietnam is either a documentary or a film about the war that is told from an outsider perspective.” This means they are stories about Vietnamese but not told from a Vietnamese perspective.
Thus, what is happening now is a vital reclamation of perspective. Vietnamese filmmakers are reframing narratives from insider perspectives. Bùi Thạc Chuyên highlighted how even language reveals this divide: “In the US perspective, they call it the Vietnam War, but from the Vietnamese perspective, they call it the War against Americans. It is the first step to really show that this war is very complex. It's not only a conflict between nations and forces, but also between ideologies, and between the same Vietnamese who follow different factions.”
For Chuyên, whose research for Địa đạo spanned over a decade, storytelling is inseparable from personal exploration. “I don't really think of how I would tell the story or where the story can reach,” he explains. “Whenever I make a film, it's also a discovery. I'm discovering myself, and I'm discovering about the topic as well.”
Bùi Thạc Chuyên at the festival.
Phan Gia Nhật Linh sees this moment as a turning point in global awareness: “I think the world is telling so many stories, but they haven't heard a story from Vietnam yet. And for years, our story was told by Americans, Chinese, and Koreans. And now we have a new generation of filmmakers who can make really good films. So now we start telling our story, and the world can now hear our story.”
This search for authenticity is also echoed by filmmaker Leon Lê, who actively avoids the exoticization or fetishization that international markets sometimes demand. In Quán Kỳ Nam, he handles memory and the legacy of French colonialism in Saigon with artistic restraint, allowing the story’s context to unfold naturally rather than explaining it outright.
The shift towards representation and genre
One of the most striking aspects of contemporary Vietnamese cinema is its expanding range. Where earlier filmmakers often faced strict political and commercial limitations, today’s generation is experimenting more freely with form, genre, and subject matter.
The rise of horror and folklore-based storytelling is particularly significant. In the past, supernatural elements in Vietnamese films often had to be rationalized or explained. Now, filmmakers are embracing the mystical and the unknown as legitimate narrative tools. Local folklore, such as the figure of the Vietnamese vampire known as Phí Phông, is being reimagined for modern audiences. These stories differ markedly from western or even other Asian interpretations of similar themes, offering something distinctly Vietnamese while still appealing to global genre fans.
At the same time, representation within narratives is evolving. Traditional war films have often centered on male protagonists and action-driven plots. In contrast, newer works are increasingly foregrounding women as central figures. This shift reflects a broader recognition of women’s roles in Vietnam’s past and present, particularly in times of conflict and resilience. By reframing these perspectives, filmmakers are diversifying their stories and also challenging long-standing cinematic conventions.
Phan Gia Nhật Linh speaks to the audience.
Stylistically, the industry is becoming more versatile. From comedies like Đại tiệc trăng máu 8 to action-thrillers like Tử chiến trên không, Vietnamese cinema is no longer confined to a single identity. This diversity reflects both creative ambition and a growing understanding of audience expectations. Even when working with adapted material, Linh emphasizes localization, “I choose stories that haven’t been told in Vietnam before, and then I adapt them to fit our context. That’s why the industry is growing. It’s also why audiences are choosing Vietnamese films over foreign ones.”
Industry challenges and the path forward
Despite these achievements, the Vietnamese film industry remains in a state of flux. Rapid growth brings both opportunity and instability, and sustaining momentum requires more than creative success. “The Vietnamese film industry today is like a fireworks show. It looks spectacular from a distance, but once you get up close, there are things to consider. Because, as you know, just like in real life, standing right under the fireworks carries a risk of fire. It’s very unstable and fraught with danger,” says Nguyên Lê.
One of the most pressing challenges is infrastructure. While filmmakers are producing compelling work, the systems needed to support international distribution and promotion are still developing. Festivals like FEFF play a crucial role in bridging this gap, but long-term success will depend on building consistent pathways to global audiences.
Another challenge lies in defining the audience itself. As the industry becomes more vibrant and diverse, questions arise about who these films are ultimately for. Domestic viewers have different expectations than international ones, and balancing these perspectives is not always straightforward. There is a risk that in trying to appeal to global markets, films might lose the very specificity that makes them unique.
Yet many filmmakers see this as a false dilemma. The emerging consensus is that authenticity is the key. Stories that remain grounded in local culture, language, and experience are precisely what attract global audiences seeking something new. As filmmakers continue to explore their own histories, experiment with new forms, and connect with audiences both at home and abroad, they are reshaping not only how Vietnam is represented on screen, but also how it participates in the global cinematic conversation.
The success at the 28th Far East Film Festival is a signal. Vietnamese cinema is finding its voice, and the world is beginning to listen.
Photos courtesy of Far East Film Festival.
