In Search of ‘Gooks’:
The Representation of the Vietnamese in Hollywood Vietnam Films

Although almost three decades have lapsed since the last Marine helicopter left the United States embassy in Saigon, the Vietnam War remains etched in the minds of millions of Americans, who seem unable to accept the defeat to their technologically-inferior Asian foes. That the war generated such an indelible impression in many can be seen in the number of Hollywood films that have been created regarding it.

Films have always had the power to influence viewers into subconsciously accepting certain discourses that the filmmaker, consciously or otherwise, includes in the films. This is glaringly apparent in the Hollywood versions of the Vietnam War, where the American soldiers bravely battle against the nameless and ruthless Vietnamese. This essay intends to expand further on this idea through a critical analysis of three Vietnam films, Apocalypse Now, Good Morning, Vietnam and Rambo: First Blood Part II, and concentrate on how the Vietnamese are portrayed in Hollywood Vietnam films.

It is argued that historical films, of which the Vietnam films belong to, cannot fully replicate past events, however much they attempt to capture the “‘spirit of a period’”. But this does not imply that history itself is then capable of perfectly reconstructing the past. Instead, history essentially consists of a historian selecting information he thinks is most relevant to arguing his stand.

Nevertheless, historical films are becoming recognised as the most effective and usually, the only way that audiences are introduced to historical events, outside of the history textbook. Therefore, they play a crucial role in shaping the audiences’ knowledge about historical events and indirectly, their views of the people involved in them, especially when they come from other cultures and countries. Through the films, the audiences form impressions of these other people that they have not yet, and might not ever, meet and interact with. Therefore, films have an obligation to represent the truth as accurately as possible.

Yet, historical films often advocate certain views on past events. The depiction of the war in Vietnam, which lasted from 1965 to 1975, by American filmmakers, is a good example. Depending on whom one speaks to, the war is defined differently. In Vietnam, the locals call it the American War, while in the United States (and almost all of the rest of the world due mainly to Hollywood’s pervasiveness), it is the Vietnam War. For the purposes of this essay, it shall be referred to by its American term.

So how does one define Vietnam and her people in a Vietnam film? If one relies purely on the dominant Hollywood definition, Vietnam would be characterised by tall coconut trees swaying in the breeze at sunset as the local folk, dressed mainly in blue, brown or white and with their ubiquitous conical hats on, till the padi fields and use sampans to cross the rivers in the country. Members of the Vietcong, however, would not be depicted so saintly and gentle. They are usually very dirty, tanned and sweaty; dressed in army fatigues and are never given the opportunity to present the war and its consequences from their point of view. Even the South Vietnamese, who were the United States’ ally in the war, do not fare much better in mainstream Hollywood Vietnam films.

Apocalypse Now epitomises the representation of the Vietnamese in Vietnam films best with their almost total absence in the entire film. Francis Ford Coppola, the director, was ironically quoted as saying, “Apocalypse Now is not a movie about Vietnam. My movie is Vietnam.” Interestingly, Coppola was referring to Vietnam, not as the country, but as the experience of the United States troops in the country. Yet, Coppola seems to forget this important element of the ‘other side’ in his film, preferring to focus instead mainly on Captain Williard’s (Martin Sheen) journey to seek out Colonel Kurtz (Marlon Brando), whom he must kill “with extreme prejudice”.

In one of the first scenes, Kurtz is heard in a tape recording as saying, “We must kill them [the North Vietnamese], we must incinerate them, pig after pig, cull after cull.” Although this can be regarded as essentially only Kurtz’s opinion of the Vietcong, it nevertheless dehumanises them, who were also fighting for what they believed in, like the Americans. It is natural for antagonism to be felt by one’s enemy, but the quote in the film, when taking into consideration film’s ideological powers, perpetuates and bolsters the opinion of how horrible the Vietcong are, positioning the audience even more against these people.

After receiving orders from his superiors to exterminate Kurtz, Williard contemplates his mission. He reflects that although he has killed six people before (presumably Vietnamese), it would be different killing Kurtz, who is also American. Is the underlying message that it is easier to kill a Vietnamese than an American? Is a Vietnamese person’s life worth less than an American? One cannot help but grasp such a disturbing notion from the scene.

The local Vietnamese are depicted in Apocalypse Now as being rather passive and helpless, with the American soldiers disrespectful of them. They are easily shocked and scared, with some of them falling off a boat while fishing when Johnson (Sam Bottoms), one of the American soldiers, laughingly skis close to their vessel. Could the director be positioning the Vietnamese so that they appear cowardly, jumping at the slightest provocation? This idea of the Vietnamese not being respected is further developed when Lieutenant Colonel Kilgore (Robert Duvall) nonchalantly throws playing cards on the bodies of the dead Vietcong fighters. He also leaves an injured Vietcong fighter he was tending to halfway when he realises that Johnson, a famous surfer, is in his midst. This scant disregard for the Vietnamese, be they friends or foes, reinforces the already antagonistic sentiments most American audiences would have towards the Vietnamese, even before viewing this film.

As in most Vietnam films, the Vietnamese in Apocalypse Now are referred to derogatorily as ‘gooks’ by the American soldiers. Although this nickname may have originated from the actual war and thus add authenticity to the portrayal of the troops, it is nevertheless insulting and dehumanises the Vietnamese to being mere cariacatures. Throughout the film, the Vietnamese are also called ‘f***-ing savages’ and ‘motherf***ers’ by Kilgore and the American soldiers.

Another interesting view of how the Vietnamese are represented in the film is noticeable through the use of camera angles. As the helicopters swoop in to bomb a suspected Vietcong-friendly village, the Vietnamese villagers are shot visually top-down, from the point of view of the soldiers in the helicopters. While they appear “faceless and tiny” because of the camera angle used, the camera zooms in to focus specifically on one injured American soldier. Thus, the film not only marginalises the Vietnamese through inaccurate and stereotypical portrayals and Vietnamese-unfriendly dialogue, but also through the choice of camera angles employed.

The only time in the film where the Vietcong are highly regarded is when Kurtz tells Williard why he admired them. He relates an incident where the Americans had innoculated children in a Vietnamese village. The Vietcong, not trusting the Americans’ intentions, hacked off the arms of the children in an instance of extreme paranoia. He explained that it took mettle and conviction to be able to act in such a manner. Ironically, through Kurtz’s explanation of his admiration of the Vietcong, the audience would undoubtedly be repulsed by the extreme actions of the Vietnamese and align themselves against such savage behaviour.

In all the battles in the film, the American soldiers manage to win every time, provoking in the audience a “victorious rush”. The Vietnamese, armed only with guns and sheer determination, are simply no match to the technologically-superior American soldiers. Therefore although historically the United States lost the Vietnam War, the past seems to have been rewritten in this film, with them winning every encounter with the Vietnamese. Those in the audience unfamiliar with the history of the war might be thus misled into falsely thinking that the United States was actually victorious.

Rambo: First Blood Part II is another film that attempts to rewrite the Vietnam War to “create the illusion that the U.S. won the battle and in a sense the war.” This is evident through the apparent ease with which John Rambo (Sylvester Stallone) destroys a prisoner-of-war (POW) camp, defeats a band of corrupt Vietnamese pirates and bombs a peaceful Vietnamese village in which the enemies (the Vietnamese and the Russians) are searching for him. Is this revision of the past an attempt to increase its palatability and marketability amongst American audiences by allowing them to “win this time”, at the expense of distorting the truth?

Interestingly, unlike most Vietnam films, there is a female Vietnamese supporting actress in Rambo. Co (Julia Nickson) is an agent from an unspecified intelligence agency who aids Rambo in his quest to find the missing American POWs in Vietnam. Though she speaks relatively good English, she is characteristically of mixed parentage, with dark brown hair and eyes, to appeal to both Asian and American audiences. Why was an ethnic Vietnamese woman not chosen? Would audiences find it difficult to imagine a purely Vietnamese lady helping Rambo? While Co is portrayed primarily as the token romantic interest in the film, her role is actually representative of Vietnamese women, of whom a significant number were actively engaged in combat during the Vietnam War. Nevertheless, her allegiance to Vietnam is questionable when she reveals to Rambo her desire to migrate to the United States where she can “live the quiet life”. Is this depiction an accurate reflection of the sentiments of Vietnamese in general? Unfortunately, once she serves her purpose of furthering the plot, she is killed off.

However, the other Vietnamese women in Rambo do not fare much better either. They are mainly prostitutes, dressed stereotypically in short, tight cheongsams with long hair down their backs. This feeds directly into the Western male’s fantasy of exotic Asian women, who live only to pleasure men. By perpetuating this stereotype, it builds up in ignorant audiences an unrealistic expectation that all Asian women (especially Vietnamese) fit neatly into this mould.

While the Vietnamese women in Rambo are prostitutes, the men are corrupt pirates and North Vietnamese. Significantly, almost every single Vietnamese pirate is tanned, rather scruffy-looking and has a moustache. This creates an almost instinctive desire to distance oneself apart from them. Depicted as being mercenary and misogynistic, they are not very likeable. Thus they do not gain much sympathy from the audience when Rambo single-handedly kills all (except one, whom Co killed) of them. Would the portrayal of the pirates been more balanced had they been Anglo-Saxon?

The North Vietnamese enemies, however, are the most “stereotyped as [dehumanised] others” in the film. Not only does their dressing resemble World War II Japanese soldiers, they lock the POWs in a bamboo cage. They also torture Rambo so harshly that Lieutenant Colonel Podovsky, who leads the Russian contingency aiding the North Vietnamese remarks, “These people are so vulgar in their methods.” Such a one-dimensional depiction of the North Vietnamese means that the audience would find it difficult to relate to them at all and would be rooting for Rambo instead.

Out of the three films, Good Morning, Vietnam presents the most balanced view of the Vietnamese, to the point of patronising them to a certain extent. While the other two films centred around combat in the jungle, Good Morning, Vietnam revolves around American radio deejay, Adrian Cronauer (Robin Williams), who brings irreverence and fun to the airwaves in Saigon, Vietnam.

In the film, there has been a considerable attempt to replicate Saigon in the early 1960s – the road-side stallholders sell vegetables, food and flowers; children chase chickens and people travel by tuk-tuks. The prerequisite young Vietnamese women dressed in their national costume, the ao dai, and the friendly Vietnamese girls in the pub, Jimmy Wah’s (with the camera slowly panning across their thighs and rears) present an exotic and mysterious view of Saigon, playing once again into the Western males’ fantasy involving them. This stereotypical and rather sexist view of the Vietnamese women as objects of lust is epitomised by Cronauer’s enthusiastic pronouncement on first sighting them, “They’re quick, they’re fast, they’re small. I feel like a fox in a chicken coop.” From the quote, it is evident that these women’s appeal partly lies in their seeming ability to allow the Western male to show off his masculine side by protecting them. This inaccurate portrayal of Vietnamese women creates in audiences an idealised view of them as being the perfect submissive little woman, leading some western men to marry Vietnamese women based on this idea. However, this unrealistic fantasy is shattered when they discover that the women are actually quite feisty in real life. Unable to cope with this revelation, there have been a number of documented cases of spousal abuse.

In Good Morning, Vietnam, Cronauer befriends a young Vietnamese boy, Tuan (Tung Tranhtran). Their relationship soon develops into a true friendship, with Cronauer even calling Tuan his best friend. Through Tuan, the audience gets an insight into the Vietnamese viewpoint on certain subjects. Tuan is initially reluctant to introduce Cronauer to Trinh (Chinatara Sukapatara), his sister, as he believes that Cronauer will act like the other “phony” French and American men, who deceive impressionable Vietnamese girls into sexual relationships by winning them over with fast cars. This interestingly provides audiences with an alternative point of view on the situation that may be merely perceived as an attempt to get acquainted with a girl in western societies. Cronauer, through his friendship with Tuan, is also introduced to Vietnamese culture – he visits Tuan’s village; goes on a date with Trinh in the traditional Vietnamese style (with almost her entire family as chaperone); and tries out road-side hawker fare. Without the sustenance of their friendship in the film, the audience would be unable to see the more humanitarian side of the Vietnamese.

Unfortunately, Tuan turns out to be involved with the Vietcong. Cronauer is devastated to learn the truth and feels betrayed, but the audience does not completely hate Tuan as he saved Cronauer’s life once before. Moreover, in one of the rare instances in Vietnam films, Tuan presents the reasons behind his involvement with the Vietcong. “Enemy, what is enemy?... We not the enemy, you the enemy!” He recites the list of family and friends, including his mother and elder brother, killed by the Americans “Why? Because we are not human to them, we’re only … enemies.” Through this outburst, the audience is offered a rare glimpse of the war from the Vietcong perspective.

Nevertheless, the representation of Vietnamese in the film is not perfect. Always smiling and friendly, the Vietnamese appear easily amused by the slightest things – learning how to slang and swear the American way and play softball. This patronising view of the Vietnamese attempts so hard to portray them as non-threatening to the extent that it reduces them to being simple-minded people, readily embracing whatever American culture has to offer to them. Although the Vietnamese characters in the film are not fleshed out as complexly as would be preferred, their roles, in terms of character development and screen time, are still much more substantial compared to the other two films.

It is thus quite obvious, through the analyses of the three films, that there is a considerable dearth in accuracy and amount of representation of Vietnamese in Vietnam films. Possible reasons for this shortage could be due to the films’ underlying propaganda purpose to “boost morale…promote the necessity of sacrifice…bring the nation together or to vilify the enemy” or marketability problems with having Vietnamese in leading roles. However, there is also a lack of films about the war from Vietnamese filmmakers, possibly due to distribution and budgeting problems and a rather strict political environment. Balanced representations of both the Americans and Vietnamese in these films will only be achieved when the filmmaker is willing to accord equal amounts of respect to both sides’ interpretation of the war. Until this happens, the Vietnam films will continue to follow the vein best exemplified by Williard’s critical analysis of the Vietnam War, “We’d cut them [the Vietnamese] in half with a machine gun and give them a band aid.”

Bibliography
Addington, L.H., America’s War in Vietnam: a Short Narrative History (Indiana, 2000).
Anderegg, M., Inventing Vietnam: the War in Film and Television (Philadelphia, 1991).
Bretherton, D., As the Mirror Burns: Making a Film about Vietnam (Australia, 1994).
Davis,N.Z., “‘Any Resemblance to Persons Living or Dead’: Film and the Challenge of Authenticity,” The Yale Review, vol. 76(4) (1987), pp. 452-482.
Evans, R.J., In Defence of History (London, 1997).
Jenkins, K., Re-Thinking History (London, 1992).
Klein, M., “Historical Memory, Film, and the Vietnam Era,” in L. Dittmar and G. Michaud (eds.), From Hanoi to Hollywood: the Vietnam War in American Film (United States, 1990), pp. 19-40.
Ross, K., Black and White Media: Black Images in Popular Film and Television (United Kingdom, 1996).
Tomasulo, F.P., “The Politics of Ambivalence: Apocalypse Now as Prowar and Antiwar Film,” in L. Dittmar and G. Michaud (eds.), From Hanoi to Hollywood: the Vietnam War in American Film (United States, 1990), pp. 145-158.
Waller, G.A., “Rambo: Getting to Win This Time,” in L. Dittmar and G. Michaud (eds.), From Hanoi to Hollywood: the Vietnam War in American Film (United States, 1990), pp. 113-128.
Worthy, K., “Hearts of Darkness: Making Art, Making History, Making Money, Making ‘Vietnam’,” Cineaste, vol. XIX (nos. 2-3), (1992), pp. 24-27.