REVIEW
The Owl and the Sparrow –More Than Beautifully Done

Shot entirely with a hand-held camera over the span of just fifteen days, The Owl and the Sparrow is by no means ground-breaking in concept or invigoratingly fresh in story but it is brought to the screen with such sensitive vulnerability that Writer/Director Stephane Gauger challenges the very notion of what makes a good movie.

In this day of transforming robots, high-flying superheroes and elaborate casino heists, it is rare for a movie to be appreciated for simplicity, softness and beauty.  It is even rarer for a director to set out to make such a movie.  However, with the approval of Vietnam’s Ministry of Culture and a self-imposed micro-budget, Stephane Gauger set out to do just that.

The Owl and the Sparrow follows the lives of three strangers in the busy, congested and thriving beauty of Saigon, Vietnam. Living on the streets, the young runaway Thuy (Pham Thi Han) relies on the kindness of strangers to earn her living. While out hawking flowers, she crosses paths with Lan (Cat Ly), a flight attendant who spends her week days in the city looking for love in all the wrong places, and Hai (Le The Lu), a heartbroken zookeeper fighting against the changing times, changing society and a fiancée who just recently changed her mind.

Instantly connecting with Lan and Hai, Thuy believes the pair could not only eliminate each other’s loneliness but could make her dream of a happy, make-shift family a reality. Thus, Thuy sets out to accomplish the impossible – In just five days she will seek to set up Lan and Hai, all the while dodging the police and side-stepping an uncle who wants nothing more than to drag her back to the country.

The Owl and the Sparrow flows organically from scene to scene with only a few points ringing false. Perhaps it is only the result of a western mentality full of cynicism and financially aware thinking, but the end, although what we are led to hope for and desire, feels the slightest bit contrived.

But outside of those tiny bobbles, the rest of the film runs straight, smooth and sure. The shaky and dizzying hand held while distracting at first, ultimately lends an air of intimacy that is utterly appropriate for this soft and subtle tale.  Beautiful colors, intimate over the shoulder shots and engaging close-ups all compliment the fluid, smooth and steady story-line.  

Above all however, The Owl and the Sparrow is carried by its three outstanding lead performances. Eliciting incredibly nuanced and powerful performances from his relatively inexperienced actors, Gauger’s directing is steadily flawless, devoid of coercion and any awkward emotion.

The most experienced of the trio, Cat Ly brings a relatable and enjoyable vulnerability to the beautiful Lan.  Ly beautifully juxtaposes Lan’s courage to pursue love with a deep-seated knowledge that what she pursues will not satisfy. Lan’s struggle with wanting a place to belong, a place where she can be of use and truly love someone else, is thrown into sharp relief when she meets Thuy and Hai. And although her struggle is nearly universal for twenty-something females, Ly manages to make Lan’s difficulties genuine, real and fresh.

With a clear and expressive face, Le the Lu brings a youthful and endearing sweetness to the lonely zookeeper, Hai. While his is the weakest performance of the bunch as he is often overshadowed by both Han and Ly, in moments where he must stand on his own, Lu is more than capable.  A bit young for the savvy and experienced Lan, Hai’s innocence carries its own reward as it refreshes Lan. Lu does a great job of matching Ly – the pair builds each other up and encourages each other to take actions they otherwise wouldn’t take.

The star of the film however is Pham Thi Han.  With the responsibility of carrying this film lying at her feet, Han does not disappoint.  Much like she does with her backpack, Han hoists the film onto her small shoulders and doesn’t look back. Her subtle but assertive matchmaking ways are fueled by a palpable sense of her love for others and her desire to have a family again. Her independence, strength and courage contrast nicely with the innocence expressed so clearly in her mesmerizing face.  If Han wants it, a long and lustrous acting career is hers for the taking.