Upstream, Downstream, Past and Present
By Joshuah Lim En

The river flows constantly without stopping, just like time. In his short
film The Unseen River, Vietnamese director Pham Ngoc Lân explores this
notion of time and memory. Following two different sets of characters in
love, we see relationships evolve and transform as the river of time flows.
The first, a young couple and the second, two elderly ex-lovers. The camera
moves with a mind on its own, in elegant pans and fluid strokes, while the
frames morph into a memory. The film opens. A young couple travels by boat
on a river. Their hair, their clothing, their skin all bear a mark of
rebellion. Rebellion against conformity. They enter a monastery, a young
monk appears, shaved and in simple robes, and with a different voice. A
voice of simplicity, a voice echoed by Buddhist theology.
It is strange that the young are often caught into two different streams of
life, one of individualism the other of traditionalism. The young couple
presents their pressing need for rest, for a good night’s sleep. The Abbot
is old, his eyes grey and tired. His vision wavers, seeing neither the
physical form of the young couple nor their tattoos and piercings. He does
see their spiritual condition however. His remedy lies in his remark,
“sinking into a deep sleep is like surrendering to a current”. Surrendering
might be something foreign to our tattooed couple. Perhaps the condition of
the soul lies not in what we wear or identify with but rather in what we
surrender ourselves too.

The film cuts to an alternate storyline. An elderly man is fishing, he turns
around to meet the wandering camera. The wandering camera for a moment
becomes us as we witness his gaze. His gaze collides with the gaze of an
observant woman on a cliff. It is soon revealed that they were once lovers.
The old lovers sit by the river. The man comments on the scars on his body
caused by the river, he says that it’s ‘inked into my flesh just as they are
into my heart’. Implying that the river has made its mark on him. We can’t
help but think how this parallels our tattooed youth and their inked bodies.
This drawing toward the ink, towards the mark might be the bond they both
share. Both scenes show this unknowing truth that we seldom reflect on. Time
marks us, but as the woman remarks, time mends as well.
The monk, whose children and wife were washed away by a flood a long time
ago. He remarks to the young couple that the scariest thing is not
sleeplessness but dreamlessness because dreams are the only place where we
can experience the past or the future. He speaks of the dreams he has, of
his family staring at him in silence. Which brings us to the last concept
explored in this film. We mark time. The family exists not as physical
beings, but as spiritual beings who exist because of time. Time flows,
carrying our stories and memories. The monk’s dream of his family could be
of the future and the past intertwined. The film ends with our young man
fishing in darkness as the camera moves away. Fishing like how our elderly
man fishes for necessity or how the monk fishes without a lure or bait,
because he fishes for a peace of mind. The young man in darkness fishes for
both. He fishes out of a necessary brokenness formed because of a lack of
peace. A lack of peace perhaps because he can’t see a future with his
girlfriend. A lack of peace perhaps because he can’t dream. The camera moves
to the flowing river when finally we cut to the face of our young man. Tears
flow down his face as he watches the river flow.
The film talks about memory and time as concepts that flow and move without
our consciousness. We know this because of the motifs given to us through
dialogue and art. The dialogue, always centreing around the past, impresses
upon us a form of time that exists as a narrative device within the frame.
The way the camera moves replicates a memory unfolding. It is organic and
seamless, it does not discriminate between our characters. We are invited
through the lens to be an observer, an observer of life, an observer of
love.
Both couples, one going upstream and one going downstream imply this sense
of wholeness and reincarnation, with their stories connected by time. An old
couple, a young couple, what does it matter? What matters is love and how it
evolves through the ever eroding waters of the river. The river, a symbol of
time and the boats, a symbol of human consciousness. Both time and
consciousness separated but connected at the same time.
