The short stories by Nguyen Ngoc Tu from a cinematic perspective (case by survey of the short stories collection “The Island”)

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Introduction

In recent years, film adaptations of literary works have gained remarkable attention in Vietnam, with several achieving both artistic and commercial success. Notable examples include “The Destiny of Hero” (Blood Letter by Bui Anh Tan), “The Scent of the Train Station” (Version by Nguyen Dinh Tu), and films based on the works of Nguyen Nhat Anh such as “The Girl from Yesterday”, “The Blue Eyes” and “I See Yellow Flowers on the Green Grass”. Among these, “The Floating Lives” and “Glorious Ashes”, adapted from the writings of Nguyen Ngoc Tu, stand out as significant contributions to Vietnamese cinema. The adaptation of literary texts has thus become a defining trend in recent years.

Nguyen Ngoc Tu, a representative writer of the post-1975 generation, is one of the few contemporary authors whose works have been repeatedly adapted. Her short story “The Endless Field” [2005] became a landmark adaptation in 2010, earning multiple Golden Kite Awards in Vietnam. In 2022, Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s short stories once again became the source material for film adaptations. All three works selected by filmmakers come from “The Island” [2016]. The first adaptation is the short film “Disappearing in the Library”, directed by Trinh Dinh Le Minh in early 2022 and based on the short story of the same title. Later that year, Bui Thac Chuyen’s feature film “Glorious Ashes” – adapted from “Rotten Firewood Floats Back” and “Glorious Ashes” – garnered significant recognition. These adaptations affirm the cinematic appeal and cultural relevance of Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s prose.

This article explores the cinematic qualities of “The Island” to explain its adaptation potential and aesthetic value. By analyzing narrative techniques, visual imagery, and spatial structures, the study aims to clarify how Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s storytelling naturally evokes cinematic expression and contributes to the broader dialogue between literature and film in contemporary Vietnamese culture.

Literature review

Research on adaptation theory in relation to Vietnamese literature has developed through both international and domestic scholarship. This study is grounded in Linda Hutcheon’s “A Theory of Adaptation” [2006], which conceptualizes adaptation as both a process and a product, emphasizing its nature as cultural translation across media and contexts. Hutcheon highlights the intertextual relationship between literature and cinema and argues that adapters re-narrate existing stories through selection, amplification, analogy, and critique rather than imitation.

In Vietnam, Dao Le Na’s “Horizon of Images: From Literature to Cinema through the Case of Kurosawa Akira” [2017] advances this theoretical discourse by examining how cinematic language reshapes literary meaning through visual aesthetics and directorial interpretation. Her work provides a localized framework for understanding the mediation between word and image, and affirms that adapted works possess independent cultural agency.

Scholarship on Nguyen Ngoc Tu has expanded in recent years. Tran Thi Van Dung [2023] analyzes feminist and gender perspectives in her writing within a broader East Asian context in “Feminism and Sexuality in Vietnamese and Chinese Literature (Through Short Stories by Nguyen Ngoc Tu and Wei Hui)”. Research by Nguyen Thi Minh focuses on adaptation, including her “Gender and landscape: women and nature in Endless Field from Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s short story collection to Nguyen Phan Quang Binh’s film” [2022] study of gender and landscape in “The Endless Field” and her “Commodification of Women’s Landscapes in Post-Renovation Vietnam: The Case of Endless Field by Nguyen Ngoc Tu from Novella to Film” [2024] analysis of the socio-cultural and economic implications of its filmic transformation.

Despite these contributions, existing studies concentrate primarily on “The Endless Field”, leaving “The Island” understudied. Moreover, few works systematically apply adaptation theory to identify cinematic techniques embedded in literary texts. This article addresses this gap by examining “The Island” from a cinematic perspective, demonstrating how its narrative structures, spatial organization, and symbolic imagery anticipate filmic expression and contribute to contemporary debates on literature–cinema interaction in Vietnam.

Literature and cinema in the context of the adaptation in Vietnam

Since its emergence in 1895, cinema has played an increasingly important role in human cultural life. Among the arts, it maintains a particularly close relationship with literature. As Huynh Nhu Phuong observes, cinema is “the art of projecting onto the silver screen a work composed of images capable of giving the audience the illusion of moving characters and objects” [Huỳnh Như Phương 2014: 114]. Unlike literature, which is created by an individual writer, cinema is a collaborative art involving screenwriters, directors, cinematographers, actors, and technical experts. Its artistic world is constructed through image, light, and sound, allowing space and time to expand beyond linguistic boundaries.

Like literature, cinema is a space–time art form, but its primary material is visual rather than verbal. Adapting a literary text into a film thus means transforming the verbal language of literature into the visual language of cinema. Dao Le Na emphasizes that “in literature there are always images evoked by words, and in cinema there is still the presence of words to clarify the meaning of images” [Đào Lê Na 2017: 98] revealing their intrinsic interconnection as art forms.

In Vietnam, many filmmakers have turned to literary sources for inspiration, motivated by existing readerships and cultural familiarity. Yet, not all literary texts lend themselves easily to cinematic form. The challenge lies in identifying works that possess strong visual, emotional, and structural potential for screen translation. Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s “The Island” exemplifies such potential: three of its stories have been successfully adapted into films. This article therefore analyzes and systematizes the cinematic characteristics of “The Island”, clarifying its appeal to filmmakers and proposing insights into the criteria that make a literary work adaptable to the seventh art.

Nguyen Ngoc Tu and adaptation cinematic works

Nguyen Ngoc Tu (b. 1976) has been active in Vietnamese literature since the early 2000s, producing short stories, prose and novels. Among these, the short story genre has brought her the greatest recognition. Her most famous adaptation is “The Floating Lives” (2010), written by Wei Ngu and directed by Nguyen Phan Quang Binh, based on her short story “The Endless Field” [2005]. The film achieved both critical and commercial success, winning multiple Golden Kite Awards, including Best Actress and Best Supporting Actor, and was later selected for screening at the Vietnamese Film Showcase in Hollywood.

Another major adaptation is “Glorious Ashes” (2022), directed by Bui Thac Chuyen and co-written by Nguyen Ngoc Tu. The film, based on the stories “Rotten Firewood Floats Back” and “Glorious Ashes” from “The Island”, portrays the emotional world of three women in a village in Ca Mau (Vietnam). The project received major international recognition, including the Asian Project Market Award at Busan (2017), the CNC Prize at Locarno (2019), and the Southeast Asia Co-Production Grant (2019). It premiered at the 35th Tokyo International Film Festival and later won the Golden Balloon Award at the Three Continents Film Festival and multiple Golden Kite Awards in Vietnam. It was also selected as Vietnam’s submission for the Best International Feature Film category at the 96th Academy Awards. Another story from “The Island”, “Disappearing in the Library,” was adapted into a short film by director Trinh Dinh Le Minh, attracting over 1.8 million views on YouTube. These adaptations affirm the cinematic appeal of “The Island”, both artistically and commercially.

Published in 2014 and reprinted nine times by 2021, “The Island” consists of 17 short stories. As noted by Tre Publishing House, the collection represents a stylistic breakthrough for Nguyen Ngoc Tu: “These stories read like prose poems about people struggling to be seen, marking her shift from rural realism toward the inner chaos of the human mind” [Nguyễn Ngọc Tư 2016: 2]. Building on Dao Le Na’s [2017] concept of cinematic properties in literature, which identifies three key elements – narrative model, figure, and image-evoking language – this article analyzes “The Island” through those aspects to clarify its cinematic qualities and explain its attraction to filmmakers.

The Cinematic elements in the short stories collection “The Island” by Nguyen Ngoc Tu from the aspect of content

Story model

According to Ray Frensham in his book “Self-study to Write Film Scripts” [2011], eight fundamental story models in literature are especially suited for cinematic adaptation, including: a vital mistake leading to downfall; an innocent or unconquerable hero; dreams fulfilled; the chase; inescapable fate; the tragedy of loss; love and separation; and the love triangle [Frensham 2011: 88–90]. Viewed from this framework, “The Island” demonstrates Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s emphasis on psychological interiority, which often poses challenges for film, a medium grounded in image, sound, and light. However, the stories maintain a balanced interplay between inner life and external conflict, rendering many of them adaptable.

Based on narrative content, “The Island” can be grouped into three story models: Love and Separation, The Tragedy of Loss, and The Chase. Although several stories contain overlapping features, they are classified here by their dominant conflict. The first group – “Disappearing in the Library”, “The Dusty Corpses”, “Raining through the Windy Land”, “The Backpacking Trip”, and “The Road to Xeo Dang” – foregrounds diverse forms of love, particularly from female perspectives. These narratives portray love as intense, fragile, and deeply human, thereby amplifying the emotional impact of separation.

The second group, The Tragedy of Loss – “The Island”, “The Red Shirt Catches the Light”, “The Vaguely Smoky Sunlight”, “Checking Hands on a Rainy Morning”, “Taking Family Photos, Wandering”, and “The Mask Falling Season” – constitutes nearly half of the collection. Here, characters experience profound losses of love, family, or connection. In “The Island”, Sang, abandoned at the border, attempts to connect with relatives lost at sea: “During the first days… he thought that in the waves day and night… there were his relatives” [Nguyễn Ngọc Tư 2016: 37]. Other characters similarly confront betrayal, violence, or emotional deprivation [ibid: 38]. These narratives underscore a persistent longing for recognition and human attachment.

The third category, The Chase – “The Escape from the Cage”, “Losing the Bride”, “Rotten Firewood Floats Back”, “Glorious Ashes”, and “The Taste of Silent Words” – reinterprets “chase” as the pursuit of identity or love. Female protagonists often navigate constrained social environments, seeking autonomy or emotional validation. In “Glorious Ashes”, the heroine manages complex emotional ties with empathy and restraint, while in “Rotten Firewood Floats Back”, affection emerges subtly through gesture and conversation.

The reception of “The Island” upon publication reflects its strong narrative appeal. The classification of its stories into three models highlights the collection’s cinematic potential. Moreover, Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s compassionate treatment of love, sorrow, and human vulnerability affirms the social relevance and emotional depth of her work in contemporary Vietnam.

Topic

Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s “The Island” centers on two interconnected thematic axes: existential perception and gender consciousness, both of which remain pertinent to contemporary Vietnamese and global readerships for their engagement with questions of meaning, identity, and the conditions of human fulfillment. Like literature, cinema also interrogates these concerns through narratives of self-realization and the pursuit of happiness.

Existential perception, grounded in twentieth-century existentialist philosophy, privileges existence over essence and emphasizes subjectivity and responsibility. As Jean-Paul Sartre states, “Existence precedes essence… they originate from subjectivity” [Sartre 2015: 28]. In Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s stories, this perception is conveyed implicitly through gestures, actions, and emotional responses rather than explicit philosophical discourse, reflecting the lived realities of characters shaped by limited education and socio-economic hardship. Characters assert themselves within relational contexts: in “The Red Shirt Catches the Light”, Phuoc repeatedly risks himself to affirm his presence - “He does everything to be seen…” [Nguyễn Ngọc Tư 2016: 46] – and his participation in the “Finding Stars” contest prompts parental recognition [ibid: 42]. Similar impulses appear in “The Vaguely Smoky Sunlight” and “Checking Hands on a Rainy Morning”, where characters seek acknowledgment within family bonds.

Existential perception also manifests in quests for selfhood. Grounded in the existentialist view that “man is nothing but what he himself creates”, characters struggle against social determinism. In “The Escape from a Cage”, Ly confronts marital unhappiness and internal fragmentation — “some strange women… saying they were Ly, escaped…” [ibid: 33, 62]—while in “The Island” and “Glorious Ashes”, women seek recognition as autonomous subjects rather than as bearers of prescribed roles.

The second major thematic strand is gender consciousness. Drawing on existentialist feminism, particularly Simone de Beauvoir’s claim that “They are not born women but choose to be women” [Beauvoir 1996: 16], Nguyen Ngoc Tu explores female subjectivity constrained by social prejudice. Stories such as “Disappearing in the Library” and “The Dusty Corpses” depict emotional lives shaped by family expectations. “The Escape from a Cage” and “Losing the Bride” most clearly exhibit gender consciousness: Ly, pressured into marriage, expresses her authentic self through moments of rupture, while the bride in “Losing the Bride” insists on autonomy - “They must have had a lot of sadness…” [Nguyễn Ngọc Tư 2016: 74].

Love functions as both an existential index and a gendered marker. The intense, sincere emotional investments of female characters shape narratives across the collection, from Hao’s search in “Disappearing in the Library” to the unfulfilled love in “Raining through the Windy Land”, the tragic devotion in “Rotten Firewood Floats Back” - “the meeting is only between a dead person and a dead person” [ibid: 130] – and the selfless endurance in “The Road to Xeo Dang” [ibid: 82]. Masculinity, particularly in its toxic expressions, is also interrogated. Male characters such as Tam in “Glorious Ashes” or Ly’s husband in “The Escape from a Cage” displace grief and failure onto women, a pattern recurring in “The Dusty Corpses” and “The Road to Xeo Dang”.

Through these intertwining explorations of identity formation and gender, Nguyen Ngoc Tu constructs a nuanced literary world that is both thematically rich and cinematically resonant, offering multilayered insights into contemporary emotional life and social conditions.

Cinematic elements in the short stories collection “The Island” in the artistic aspect

Character

Doan Minh Tuan [2008: 9] highlights the fundamental distinctions between literary characters and cinematic characters. Literary characters are capable of thinking, dreaming, reminiscing, and philosophizing through internal monologues or reflections on past events. In contrast, cinematic characters are primarily defined through action. As Aristotle emphasizes in the Poetics, action constitutes the essential element of performing arts, while conflict serves as the central element. Actions are inherently linked to character and simultaneously function as the principal catalyst for conflict and tension in performing arts and, in particular, cinema. Through actions, both the personality and psychological development of a character are revealed. Consequently, action-driven characters are crucial in cinematographic works, and literary works selected for adaptation typically prioritize the depiction of character actions. Historically, in Vietnamese realist literature of the first half of the twentieth century, authors such as Nguyen Cong Hoan and Vu Trong Phung were most frequently adapted because, unlike Nam Cao, their works emphasized character personalities and actions.

In the short story collection “The Island”, Nguyen Ngoc Tu retains her characteristic incisive style in portraying characters’ inner thoughts while simultaneously attending to action and conflict. The pacing of action in her stories is generally measured, aligning with the narrative rhythm, but it accelerates at key moments to reveal the characters’ emotional states. For example, in “The Escape from the Cage”, the character Ly, in a drunken frenzy, pursues a figure resembling her former lover. Nguyen Ngoc Tu conveys her actions and gestures vividly: “Her hair is all over the place. Bare feet. High-rolled, low-cut pants. Ly was carrying a knife and running on the shore. The boat, fearless, sped away and sprayed smoke. She didn’t know what she saw on the boat, she only knew that the poor girl suddenly vomited, grabbed her sharpened spear and rushed after it fiercely and crazily” [Nguyễn Ngọc Tư 2016: 62].

Action in Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s stories primarily functions to reveal character mood and psychological development. In “The Dusty Corpse”, for instance, the nostalgia and longing of Diu are meticulously reconstructed through her inner experiences: “Remembering Nhu’s body and the collisions that are both panicky and thrilling, both distant and bloody. I can’t find that feeling again in my husband. So many times I regret it to the point of tears. Strongly and firmly, Nhu made me feel numb, right at our first time. I love it so much I can’t breathe” [ibid: 18].

Character portrayal in Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s work often emphasizes mood and psychological nuance through eyes, smiles, frowns, and facial expressions, with a particular focus on the eyes. This approach is highly advantageous for screenwriters, directors, and actors in understanding the psychological depth of characters during adaptation, while also stimulating interpretive creativity. For example, Hao in “Disappearing in the Library” is depicted with meticulous attention to her physicality and facial expressions: “Hao’s absent-minded face and eyes saved her from harsh words. She looked both hungry and tired, searching and frustrated, hopeful and hopeless, as my mother described, her face looked like a lost puppy” [Nguyễn Ngọc Tư 2016: 10].

Similarly, in “The Mask Falling Season”, a young girl who discovers her father’s adultery perceives him through a transformed lens: “In a moment I knew I couldn’t bring back those pure faces, faceless. I have never known anything suitable for this ripe woman’s figure, this inviting dress” [ibid: 25]. In “Rotten Firewood Floats Back”, a male character with a violent past is depicted upon returning to his hometown: “He is silent like a statue, but does not have the peace and serenity like a statue. A wrinkled man” [ibid: 128].

Such characterization through facial expression and gaze enables actors to apprehend the psychology of characters more effectively. The status generates action, suggesting that understanding a character’s inner state naturally informs their behavior. Thus, even in the absence of extensive direct dialogue, Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s stories possess cinematic potential. The detailed construction of character through expression and subtle gesture reduces the challenges faced by filmmakers adapting “The Island”.

Nonetheless, faithfully conveying the essence of Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s characters remains a complex task. It requires a skilled screenwriter to transform internal monologues and introspective dialogues into visual actions, complemented by the actor’s craft, so that viewers can fully experience the beauty, emotional depth, and psychological nuances of the characters in “The Island”.

Genre

First of all, in terms of genre, the short stories in “The Island” by Nguyen Ngoc Tu are well-suited for adaptation into plays or films. Compared to novels, short stories allow filmmakers to convey the narrative more fully, as there is less concern about omitting details. The short length of the stories – about 5 to 9 pages (1,000–2,300 words) – is an advantage, making them suitable for short films or digital platforms. For example, “The Vaguely Smoky Sunlight” explores family love beyond blood ties, and “Disappearing in the Library” has already been successfully adapted.

Secondly, as narrative works, the stories include key elements such as the narrator, point of view, and narrative structure, all crucial for cinematic adaptation. Nguyen Ngoc Tu often uses a third-person omniscient perspective with multiple internal viewpoints, allowing the story to shift flexibly among characters. This enables both external observation and insight into characters’ thoughts. For instance, in “Losing the Bride”, the groom is described by the narrator: “Dinh, my groom, walked in the fourth row of the bridal procession, showing his red face for unknown reasons. Either because of the sun or because the alcohol leaked out of the gray rented vest or shirt, the long hem almost touched the knee, looking a bit sloppy” [Nguyễn Ngọc Tư 2016: 73]. The neighbors’ perspectives further comment: “He is the secretary of the commune union and will soon be vice president of the commune… If the daughter of this Bung village doesn’t marry a poor farmer, they will marry Korean or Taiwanese. They have a lot of money, but they are so far away in a foreign country that they won’t even have enough fish sauce to eat” [ibid: 75].

The stories do not follow a linear structure but combine circular narrative and stream-of-consciousness techniques, creating a fragmented, memory-infused style. As Kieu in “The Issue of Feminity in the ollection of short stories by Nguyen Ngoc Tu from the Perspective of Interdisciplinary (The cases of collection of short stories No one Crosses the River and Fixxing a Cloud)” notes, “In other words, the reader can read the ‘ending’ at the end of the text and then continue reading the ‘ending’ at the beginning of the text” [Kiều Thanh Uyên 2023: 486]. This modern narrative approach enhances cinematic potential, as film can compress or stretch time and context. Parallel structures also appear, as in “Taking Family Photos”, where the father’s pursuit of his dream and the son’s journey to maturity intertwine: “And his father’s call came when he had moved on to playing Diamond Arrangement, the colorful stones crumbling down could not calm him about the other bride’s dress cost twelve thousand dollars” [Nguyễn Ngọc Tư 2016: 94]. In “The Road to Xeo Dang”, past and present, memory and reality intersect: “River crossings are often the same, with a few clusters of houses, a few grocery stores, a white bridge with flowing water beneath it and landslides” [ibid: 82].

Thirdly, despite their brevity, the stories contain multiple characters and intertwined destinies. “Glorious Ashes” follows Nhan and the female protagonist; “Rotten Firewood Floats Back” explores her love for two men; “Disappearing in the Library” depicts Hao and Sinh’s love; “The Dusty Corpses” shows Diu and Nhu, as well as Diu and her husband; “The Road to Xeo Dang” portrays the protagonist’s love for her husband and his brother Quy. Even stories with few characters, like “Taking Family Photos”, offer multiple perspectives: “But father doesn’t see his son’s few surprises as a reason to skip the movie… if he wants to run around somewhere, he asks his mother even if his father is there… which is not a reason strong enough to keep the father at home” [ibid: 96].

Overall, the genre, brevity, and narrative techniques in “The Island” enhance its cinematic quality, making the collection highly appealing for adaptation. The concise storytelling allows for a strong visual interpretation, while the nuanced character development provides depth that filmmakers can explore. Additionally, the vivid imagery and carefully constructed narrative arcs create natural cinematic tension, further increasing its suitability for the screen.

Language

In “The Island”, Nguyen Ngoc Tu rarely uses direct dialogue, favoring inner monologue, internal dialogue, and semi-direct speech. Consequently, film adaptations often employ “voice over” narration. As Dao Le Na notes, “The voice over in a cinematographic work leads the audience into the story of a film, the same way a character tells a story in a literary work” [Đào Lê Na 2017: 110]. Similarly, Tarkovsky emphasizes contemplation through images and light rather than words, highlighting a potential limitation for adapting Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s stories. For instance, “The Taste of Silent Words” depicts a woman struggling to express trauma: “The old illness returned, the words were just about to spill out, my tongue held it tightly, licking it without leaving anything behind. Their flavor always hits very hard, then gradually fades until it is worn down to the core” [Nguyễn Ngọc Tư 2016: 106]. Direct dialogue is minimal; the story relies on inner monologue: “The letter ‘ơ’ in the word ‘nonchalant’ (thờ ơ) and the letter ‘g’ in the word ‘cool down’ (nguội) are quite similar: between the sweet is sour, the dry down to the grain is acrid, and the last is fleshy. But not all words are easy to separate into flavors, they tingle and appear and disappear, leading us into strange corners” [ibid: 106]. In “The Road to Xeo Dang”, internal states are conveyed through gestures and memories: “In the dreams of the past nine years, that scream croaked among a thousand eyes in the tree and on the ground, Quy’s eyes were full of pleading, leaving me alone, don’t tell, Hoi’s eyes were streaked with blood… Its echo tore through my heart. It never escapes through my lips” [ibid: 108].

Despite limited dialogue, Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s narrative and descriptive language is rich in imagery and emotion, enhancing cinematic potential. Using both internal and external narration combined with a multi-option third-person omniscient perspective, she portrays the complex inner worlds of characters in modern Vietnamese society. In “Disappearing in the Library”, this combination provides multiple perspectives, while in “Raining through the Windy Land”, narrative conciseness evokes vivid imagery: “The endless circulation of time is remembered by a newborn baby crying on the bed. A sugarcane crop hit the price. Dau went to middle school. Ai craved for sour food again. The mango tree the customer planted bore fruit in the first season. Guest’s leg is broken. Marry a daughter” [Nguyễn Ngọc Tư 2016: 91].

Her descriptive language is suggestive and sensual, concretizing imagination for readers and aiding filmmakers. In “The Vaguely Smoky Sunlight”: “They remember the whole scene that day: the sky was very low, the wind was fierce and the house was choked with sickly air… At the end of the afternoon, when he returned from drinking, his breath added to the unpleasant air and the smell of wort and vomit” [ibid: 50]. Similarly, in “The Dusty Corpse”, memories are evoked through multi-sensory detail: “The sour smell of banana vinegar mixed with the salty smell of fermented soybeans. The sound of chickens clucking in their nests… Further back, it is the smell of bran at the rice mill, where we first met. The smell of cotton filled the neighborhood street where the two of them often returned after watching the opera” [ibid: 16].

Nguyen Ngoc Tu skillfully balances character language, narrative voice, and descriptive imagery. By integrating narrative and descriptive techniques, she mitigates the limitations of internal monologue, making her stories vivid and emotionally resonant – a factor that enhances their appeal for cinematic adaptation.

Conclusion

The script is a fundamental component of cinematic creation. In the context of Vietnam’s current shortage of script material, the adaptation of literary works has become a widely adopted solution. Nguyen Ngoc Tu’s short stories, highly regarded by critics and readers alike, have also drawn sustained interest from filmmakers. Over nearly two decades of literary activity, four of her works have been adapted for cinema, with others transformed into television and stage productions.

The case of “The Island” illustrates the particular appeal of her writing for film adaptation. The collection offers narrative models well suited to cinematic exploitation, while its conflicts – especially those centered on women – provide distinct perspectives shaped by a female authorial voice. Although set in rural and impoverished communities of Southern Vietnam, the themes addressed in The Island remain socially and culturally resonant in contemporary society. The everyday lives and emotional journeys of women and children, especially their quests for love and self-understanding, reflect concerns that continue to hold relevance.

Artistically, Nguyen Ngoc Tu has established herself as a prominent writer of short fiction. Her collections demonstrate a refined storytelling craft marked by distinctive character construction, narrative organization, and expressive language. These features affirm the literary value of her work and align with key criteria guiding filmmakers in their selection of literary texts for adaptation.

The adaptation of literary works into film constitutes a positive development for Vietnamese art. It signals public interest in domestic literature and extends its reach through cinema, while simultaneously providing filmmakers with diverse material that helps address persistent challenges in the advancement of Vietnamese cinema.

About the authors

Thanh Uyen Kieu

Author for correspondence.
Email: uyenkt@dlu.edu.vn
ORCID iD: 0000-0002-3898-6309

Ph.D., Main Lecturer

References

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