Hoàng Hà

In the dune landscape of a cemetery, or is it golf course? Past and present converge in the search for a grave.

A cinematic journey to the death in searching for the paradise of youth on the highlands of northern Vietnam.

When they discover that they are pregnant, a young couple in Hanoi resort to desperate (and bizarre) measures to raise money for an abortion.

In a ship's container, a man cannot put himself to sleep. He is, in fact, on a night flight across continents. Jet-lagged and overwhelmed by time's lassitude, the man relapses into his innermost memories of other places and times. There, in the container, he meets his teenage self, who is remembering his childhood experience as a refugee living in a segregated camp in Hong Kong. They talk, confront, and reproach each other over their mother's coin.

A woman tries to cling onto dimming links to her past after inheriting a pygmy slow loris from her long-estranged husband; meanwhile, her niece prepares for marriage as the young couple ponders their gloomy future together. The present and the complex echoes of Vietnamese history are entwined before a contemplative and poetic perspective.

Stories told along the river: a woman reunites with her ex-lover at a hydroelectric plant; meanwhile, a young man travels downstream to a temple in search of a cure for his insomnia.