Kino Lorber
Slow cinema is a subgenre whose works can be a considerable challenge for those not accustomed to its patient rhythms, prolonged runtimes, and minimalist plots. Yet moviegoers willing to attune themselves to these films’ wavelengths are often rewarded with pensive and hypnotic gems that tap into the larger, unspoken currents of life and the world. Such is the case with Phạm Thiên Ân’s Inside the Yellow Cocoon Shell, winner of the Camera d’Or (i.e., best debut) at last year’s Cannes Film Festival. A three-hour drama whose slender story serves as the skeleton for a formally exquisite examination of loss, faith, family, and connection, it’s the year’s first masterpiece, and a must-see for anyone interested in more than just blockbuster fare.
Premiering in theaters on Jan. 19, Inside the Yellow Cocoon Shell is, from a narrative standpoint, deceptively simple. Laconically coasting by in Saigon, twentysomething bachelor Thien (Le Phong Vu) is called to help deal with a family emergency. In his rural Vietnamese hometown, his sister-in-law Hanh has been killed in a car accident, and since her husband (Thien’s brother) Tam has cut and run for parts unknown, her 5-year-old son Dao (Nguyen Thinh) is now an orphan. Upon returning, Thien takes Dao under his wing while overseeing funeral arrangements for Hanh as well as reconnecting with those he hasn’t seen since he departed (and the rest of his clan emigrated to the United States). Such individuals include his buddy Trung (Vu Ngoc Manh) and nun Thao (Nguyen Thi Truc Quynh), a former girlfriend for whom he still has feelings. Eventually, Thien embarks on a quest to find his sibling, leading him into the vast countryside.
It’s an understatement to say that Inside the Yellow Cocoon Shell is light on action. However, it makes up for its lack of notable (much less pulse-pounding) incident with a sumptuous mood conjured by formidable aesthetics. Channeling Asian contemporaries like Apichatpong Weerasethakul and Bi Gan (whose first film Kaili Blues seems to be a direct influence), Phạm Thiên Ân stages most scenes in intensely long, unbroken takes.