Tunnel

The movie follows a scrappy 21-person Vietnamese guerrilla squad that ends up in the crosshairs of a US forces search and destroy mission. Their task is to protect a newly arrived strategic intelligence team hiding at their base, no matter what it takes. The plot isn't overly complex, so the film hooks you more with the characters' inner struggles than with battlefield tactics.

I really liked how the story kicks off with a lost soldier stumbling into the guerrilla team's tunnel network. It sparks some funny and engaging moments that flesh out the bonds between the Vietnamese soldiers. But as the film hits its midpoint, the escalating tension of the war with the US army starts to drown out those emotional connections. I get why it shifts that way, but it's a pity the soldiers' sacrifices didn't land with more weight. It would've hit harder if the director had ramped up the emotional stakes, especially when the guerrilla leader, a key figure, meets his end. That moment deserved a bigger payoff.

There's a touch of sex in the film too nothing overdone, and it feels grounded. I think it's a realistic nod to something rarely explored in stories about Vietnam War soldiers. After all, these are young guys in their prime, still human despite the chaos.

The sound design really stands out. The director nails the raw punch of bombs and gunfire. Visually, it's strong too smart camera angles and solid framing. That's a huge plus in making the film feel real as it brings history to life.

As an American viewer, I walked into Tunnels: Sun in the Dark expecting a compelling war film. I walked out transformed. This is not just a war movie. It is poetry carved into the darkness of history, a cinematic requiem for those who fought battles unseen, underground, and in the shadows of superpowers. The director delivers a harrowing, intimate, and profoundly human story set during one of the most divisive conflicts in modern history: the Vietnam War. Set in 1967, Tunnels follows a Vietnamese revolutionary guerrilla team entrusted with protecting a hidden group of intelligence agents-the heartbeat of their resistance. What unfolds is not only a tense and thrilling survival narrative but an exploration of loyalty, sacrifice, and the slow-burning light of hope that flickers even in the blackest tunnels. The film's cinematography is nothing short of stunning. The contrast between the oppressive, suffocating underground passages and the rare, golden moments of daylight evokes both fear and longing. You can feel the earth pressing in. You can hear the silence between each heartbeat. And in those moments, you understand what it meant to live like a shadow. The performances-raw, restrained, and utterly magnetic-do not seek applause. They seek truth. Particularly standout is the lead guerrilla commander, whose eyes alone speak volumes of sorrow, determination, and unyielding resolve. The writing never panders. It respects the intelligence of its audience while remaining unflinchingly honest about the toll of war on both body and soul. As an American, I was humbled. Tunnels: Sun in the Dark does not preach, vilify, or romanticize. It illuminates. It reminds us that history is not owned by the victors alone. It belongs to the buried voices, the hidden fighters, the forgotten dreams that once burned bright in the dark. This film is a gift-a mirror held to the past, but also a light for our collective future. Watch it. Feel it. Remember it. 10/10 - A masterpiece that should echo through every corridor of film history.

Watching The Underground Passage by director Bui Thac Chuyen stirs a deep and powerful wave of emotions-intense, haunting, and profoundly moving. The film is not merely a cinematic experience; it's an emotional journey that draws the viewer into a hidden current beneath the surface, guiding them through shadowy frames filled with tension and quiet despair.

Emotions rise as we witness the resilience and unyielding spirit of people pushed to the very edge. There are moments that tighten the chest-acts of sacrifice, loneliness, and fleeting glimpses of love and hope glimmering in the darkness. Every sound, every ray of light piercing through the cracks in the earth feels like it touches something raw within, evoking deep reflections on war, humanity, and memory.

The Underground Passage doesn't scream-it whispers, but its echoes linger long after the credits roll. The feelings it stirs remain: a quiet ache, a mixture of pride and sorrow, and a profound reminder of what must not be forgotten.

The concept is terrific-a war movie crafted with a setting and perspective that, at times, evoke the atmosphere of a horror film.

To bring this vision to life, Bui Thac Chuyen shows remarkable restraint, opting for a minimalist yet impactful approach-from the acting and sparse dialogue to the subtle use of patriotic symbolism. It's rare to see a Vietnamese director place such trust in the audience's ability to interpret and feel.

Unfortunately, the editing undermines much of that intention. Some scenes are difficult to follow, while others verge on unintentionally comedic due to awkward cut timing. Most frustrating of all, the dialogue is often hard to hear. As a native Vietnamese speaker, I found it absurd that I had to rely on English subtitles just to understand what the characters were saying.

That said, it's still refreshing to see a Vietnamese film with a clear, confident identity-one that doesn't depend on rapid-fire dialogues and petty arguments to move the plot forward.

I'm a Vietnamese born in peacetime-even my parents' generation didn't really witness the full consequences of our long resistance wars. I only knew about the wars against the French and the Americans through school lessons and bits of information on social media.

But 'Tunnel' really hit me. It completely shifted my perspective on war. The film powerfully depicts the toughness and resilience of the people in the Cu Chi tunnels in particular, and the Vietnamese people of that time in general; as well a. The 250 kilometers of dark, suffocating tunnels beneath the ground were where they lived, planned, and prepared to fight back against American forces with tanks and advanced weapons. That's how we've come to have the peaceful life we live today, and I'm deeply grateful for that.

The use of period-specific language was a nice touch. There's one intimate scene in the film that was very tastefully done and felt true to the character's humanity. And it doesn't over-glorify the Vietnamese side, nor does it vilify the Americans-U. S. soldiers are portrayed as tough and skilled fighters.

The color grading in the film is beautiful. I'm not entirely sure how others might view this film-I studied at an art school and have some understanding of cinema, but with any film, different people will connect with it in different ways. Personally, I found it deeply impressive-both in terms of the director's craft and the stories told in and around the film.