The film "Red Rain," adapted from Chu Lai's novel of the same name, set a box office record for Vietnamese war films, surpassing 100 billion VND after just three days. In this interview, the author reflects on his writing career and his feelings as the nation commemorates the 80th anniversary of National Day on 2/9.

In his Long Bien, Hanoi apartment, the author discussed his work, his eyes gleaming with joy that a historical project has resonated so deeply with the public, including many young people. He recalled his wartime memories and the war theme that has been central to his writing.

- How do you feel seeing your "child" brought to life through cinema?

- I'm very moved. Of course, there are still some flaws. For example, the film focuses more on battle scenes than on the love story; a better balance would have been preferable. The ending is also a bit subdued, not quite as emotionally powerful as it could be. However, overall, I think the film is good.

I gave the script to the team 10 years ago, and it took a lot of back and forth before they decided to make it. Undertaking this project was a brave move by the People's Army Cinema, given the complexity and the potential for failure. Because they dared to take it on, I had complete faith in them and only met with the management once.

During filming, they rarely contacted me, and I didn't need them to. I wanted the team to have creative independence. They also knew I was old and couldn't travel to the set, and I shouldn't have anyway. Being on set can create friction between the author and the director. Who knows, occasionally, the writer might jump in to criticize and complicate things (laughs). Director Dang Nhat Minh wrote and directed "When October Comes," and Bui Thac Chuyen did similarly with "The Tunnel." Directors know what to do to elevate their "children." With a project like "Red Rain," which has its own director and screenwriter, it's hard to achieve perfect harmony, no matter how well you understand each other.

In the original novel, I could write a single line that would take the director a month to film. So, you can't expect the film to be a perfect replica of the literary script. I hoped the project would capture 70-80% of the novel's essence, and that would have been great.

The film version of "Red Rain" streamlines certain details; some parts are even omitted. But the important thing is that the film retains the soul and spirit of the novel. I think the film surpasses the book in its depiction of the brutal reality of war.

- The film has only been in theaters for a few days but has had a significant impact. What are your reflections on this?

- Vietnamese audiences haven't turned their backs on the seemingly dry subject of war. If "Red Rain" had been released 10 years ago, it might not have resonated in the same way. Released now, it taps into the current atmosphere of patriotism and a renewed focus on our roots. This gives filmmakers confidence that "no topic is inherently flawed;" what matters is how you connect with the audience's emotions.

After reunification, the country went through the bleak subsidy period, then the turbulent market economy era, and now we are in a period of integration. Post-war, there was a sense that Vietnamese people, especially the younger generation, no longer valued sacred principles and historical milestones. But surprisingly, during the 80th anniversary of the August Revolution and National Day on 2/9, their patriotism has surged forth, like lava flowing beneath the surface, never extinguished. These days, Vietnam is ablaze with the color of this "volcano," and it seems to come not from outward displays but from the heart of each person.

The older generation expressed their love for their country by crossing the Truong Son mountains to fight, taking oaths of sacrifice under the Tan Trao banyan tree. Today's generation does so through intellect and innovation, creating prosperity for themselves and the community. National pride, like a diamond in their chests, is nurtured so that if any force threatens them, they will "march to battle," as heroic as their ancestors.

Author Chu Lai at age 79. Photo: Phuong Linh

- What memories of your wartime experiences does the atmosphere surrounding this important national holiday evoke?

- In recent days, airplanes in the sky have filled everyone with excitement. But during wartime, that was when soldiers felt closest to death. After the war, veterans lived each day as if it were a bonus, because back then, for every 10 soldiers who went to war, 9 didn't return.

These days, I feel a stirring within me, a natural awakening of memories of my first days in the army. I remember each comrade, each battle, the moments of both hope and despair in the midst of combat. I think with anguish about the friends and comrades who remain buried deep in the jungle, who never had the chance to return. I grieve for the millions of promising young people who fell, who never witnessed our nation's triumphant day.

The 81 days and nights in Quang Tri were arguably among the fiercest battles in human history. Defending the ancient citadel involved two seasons, dry and rainy, resulting in two types of warfare: desert and water. Due to filming limitations, the movie only depicts the rainy season, showing soldiers fighting submerged in water. If they died, their comrades would find their upper bodies blackened by the sun and their lower bodies pale like boiled fish from days of immersion. Desert warfare had its own hardships: clothes torn to shreds, heads infested with lice.

Dinh Cong Trang fortress endured 328,000 tons of bombs and shells throughout the battle, an average of 10 tons per soldier. I don't know if any soldier in any other country or campaign has ever endured such a terrifying amount of firepower. This leads me to a reflection: "In war, every day is a burial, but not yet your own." The mountains of bones and rivers of blood shed for this day are immeasurable.

- Recalling the war brings back painful memories for soldiers. Why have you dedicated your writing life to this theme?

- A soldier only needs to spend one night sleeping in the jungle, one day marching through the Truong Son mountains, and they will never forget it. And when the war is long and brutal, it suddenly becomes a super-theme in literature and art, the soldier a super-character, the more you explore, the richer it becomes.

After the Battle of Borodino in 1812 between the French and Russian armies, Leo Tolstoy published "War and Peace" in 1867. Vietnam has been unified for 50 years, but when will we have a work of such scope and grandeur as Tolstoy's? This is an eternal question for generations to answer. However, today's youth seem hesitant, preferring to write about more familiar, everyday subjects. Many say there's nothing to write about soldiers today, but if you delve deeper, you'll find many complex issues.

About 20 years ago, I wrote the short story "My Son Goes to War," based on my son's actual enlistment, and it's still popular with readers. By focusing on a single event, you can infuse it with past emotions and stories, creating a compelling work. This theme will never die; it just needs to be approached in increasingly engaging ways. Authors don't need to have experienced war firsthand like in the past, but as long as they have "fire" in their hearts and a connection to their roots, they can write about it.

- How do the aftershocks of war persist and manifest in you today?

- Just burying a comrade each day is haunting enough, let alone fighting for 10 years. But those aftershocks are part of the flow of the war to protect the Fatherland, a mix of suffering and pride, satisfaction in fulfilling duty, and even regret. For me, the aftershocks manifest most clearly in old age through reminiscing and pondering the faces of my friends, the female guerrillas, the images from the battlefield. I've often thought about making one last trip back to the old battlefields, to meet anyone still alive, but almost all of them are gone.

Portrait of Chu Lai by artist Tuan Dung, July 2016. Photo: Phuong Linh

- Looking back on a life of soldiering and writing, what are your reflections?

- 10 years of fighting, 50 years of writing, I've given my all. After "Portrait of a Strange Woman" (2020), I stopped. Now, if I'm not fully alert and reflective, if I'm just writing for the sake of it, the work won't be worthwhile. Emotions have their limits, and so do words. Nguyen Khai said that writers should ideally stop writing after 70, but I was still writing at 76 (laughs). Due to my health limitations and underlying conditions, I can't undertake long, ambitious projects. I usually write short pieces, essays, but not consistently.

A few years ago, I used to drive all over Vietnam by myself, believing that "to wander is to be free," but now I'm past that age and don't dare to take long trips alone. Now I focus on mental well-being, spending most of my time reading, watching movies, swimming, and cycling. I don't dwell on the past, but I feel I've done almost everything I needed to do.

Chu Lai, also known as Tam Linh, was born in Hung Yen and is the son of playwright Hoc Phi. He joined the army in 1963 and later joined the General Political Department's drama troupe. In 1967, he volunteered to fight in the Eastern Nam Bo battlefield, starting as an infantryman and later becoming a local special forces company commander near Saigon.

After the country's reunification, he worked in the Propaganda Department of Military Region 7, then studied at the Nguyen Du Writing School, first course. In 1982, he joined the Van Nghe Quan Doi magazine until his retirement with the rank of Colonel. He has written many works about soldiers and war, drawing from his combat experiences, including "Sunshine on the Plains" (1978), "The Treacherous Circle" (1987), "Begging the Past" (1991), "Life is Very Long" (2001), and "The Final Tragedy" (2004). His novel "Red Rain" (2016) won the Vietnam Writers' Association Award the same year.

Phuong Linh