Viv’s Silly Mango (2022) is a bright and genuine short film that follows a Vietnamese Australian school girl named Viv (Hami Phan) as she encounters the joys and growing pains of coming into her queer identity, with her childhood best friend Esther (Ainslie Ryan) and rebellious new girl Nikki (Ixara Dorizac) by her side. The film’s title pays its respects to the first Asian American female punk band, Emily’s Sassy Lime, from the 1980s/90s riot grrrl movement, which inspires the film’s vibrant DIY look and soundtrack. At first, Viv, Esther, and Nikki start their band “Viv’s Silly Mango” only to win the school talent show to get back at their entitled male classmates. By the end of the 27-minute film, however, the girls are empowered to be a part of the riot grrrl movement themselves.
Viv’s Silly Mango is directed by Rachel Maxine Anderson and co-written by Rae Choi and Mary Duong in partnership with national broadcasters Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC) Children’s and Screen Australia. Through the Kaleidoscope Project, culturally and linguistically diverse Australian filmmakers, like the Asian Australian team behind Viv’s Silly Mango, bring the rich stories of their childhood in multicultural Australia on national television to young viewers (8-12 years old). Viv’s Silly Mango adds another inspiring narrative about Viet diaspora kids to this year’s Viet Film Fest. With visuals, sound, and an attention to interiority that evoke the riot grrrl ethos, Anderson, Choi, and Duong craft a brave coming-of-age story around Asian Australian queer identity, empowering young girls like Viv.
One does not have to know anything about riot grrrl and zine-making to enjoy the creative graphics throughout Viv’s Silly Mango, from the colorfully collaged title card, to a cut-and-paste notebook rendition of Nikki’s social media page, to Viv’s vibrant vision board of queer women and art that inspire her. The same goes for enjoying the film’s catchy and energetic punk sound that follows the girls’ self-discovery and transformation as they prepare for the talent show and express themselves beyond the stage. The film’s fun scrapbook and punk aesthetic is nostalgic for the comfort that the creators found in the music of their childhood.
But one thing that the writers are certainly not nostalgic for is the lack of diversity in riot grrrl’s history. “Riot grrrl started in the 1990s and has been criticized for not being inclusive enough,” Esther reports to Viv and Nikki after doing more research on riot grrrl. In 1997, Vietnamese American scholar, punk, and zine author Mimi Thi Nguyen compiled letters from punks of color and released “Evolution of a Race Riot”—the first zine to discuss race and racism in punk. As Nguyen candidly writes in the zine’s introduction and analyzes in her 2012 essay “Riot Grrrl, Race, and Revival,” the collective intimacy that riot grrrl’s white feminist majority fosters to unite girls against patriarchy collapses when riot grrrls have to talk about race. The riot grrrl movement failed to be a safe space for punks of color, due to white fragility, forced dialogues on white people’s terms, performative allyship, and more—similar to the challenges that people of color continue to face in institutional spaces today.
The critical history of punk rock, systemic oppression, and empire would not be easy to convey in a short film for kids, but Viv’s Silly Mango nevertheless encourages curiosity. The writers of Viv’s Silly Mango emphasize the open-mindedness of young people and their savviness in educating and empowering themselves through characters like Esther who optimistically believe in being part of the change for a more inclusive riot grrrl future. Viv’s Silly Mango is a film project that writes toward what’s missing in the riot grrrl archives. Spotlighting people of color in punk, Viv’s Silly Mango feels like a school-age version of the British television sitcom We Are Lady Parts about an all-female Muslim punk band. The short film also captures the energy of the Linda Lindas, the American teenage rock band that went viral for their legendary performance of “Racist, Sexist Boy” in the Los Angeles Public Library.
Punk is raw, loud, fearless, but also introspective and confessional, and Viv’s Silly Mango wonderfully embodies this dynamic spirit. There is a beautiful attention to interiority throughout the film, where intimate settings reveal a little more about the world that Viv grew up in, and all that weighs on her mind as a self-reliant queer Viet Australian girl from a Catholic family.
The film begins on a typical chaotic morning in Viv’s home: off-screen, a baby is crying, an overwhelmed mother breathes “Trời đất ơi.” But our main character Viv is not in the midst of this chaos. Instead, Viv is journaling in an empty bathtub behind a closed bathroom door—the only place where she can hear her own thoughts on these mornings before school. Another scene calls attention to Viv’s smallness and vulnerability as she guiltily stares at an icon of the Sacred Heart of Jesus above her, before she opens her closet to reveal her vision board of queer icons.
One evening, while scrolling on her phone, Viv comes across Nikki’s song “Scuffed My Shoes” (an original song by the talented Ixaras herself). Viv’s room glows with a comforting pink as she imagines Nikki performing it right in front of her. Nikki becomes more than just a school crush; she’s a girl who sings songs about other girls, a friend who assures Viv that “it’s okay to like what you like,” a queer icon herself who inspires Viv to write her first song lyrics about being queer. Another reason why Viv’s Silly Mango feels so warm and genuine is because the director and writers themselves invite the actors and audience into the beloved places of their childhood in Meanjin to tell this story; for example, scenes of Viv working in her parents’ fruit shop are filmed at the local Vietnamese grocery store Darra Big Fresh, which Duong often went to.
The external plot of the talent show in Viv’s Silly Mango isn’t as memorable as the characters’ interiority, but it brings out the best of the three girls—that they are serious about their artistic passions, open to new ideas and working together, and fiercely protective of their friends. Viv’s Silly Mango adds its punk aesthetic and history to the growing shelf of stories that center queer Viet girls, like Trang Thanh Tran’s She Is a Haunting, Trinity Tran’s A Banh Mi for Two, and Nghi Vo’s The Chosen and the Beautiful. In interviews with the Kaleidoscope Project and Viet Film Fest, the writers reiterate their focus on telling a story for young people: “It was important to us to centre young people every step of the way. In turn, their humour, honesty, and intuitive nature never ceases to amaze, proving that there’s so much to learn from young people today,” says Choi. Given all that the film team was able to accomplish in Viv’s Silly Mango, I’m eager to see what Asian Australian narratives and fruity productions these young creators will take on next.
Viv’s Silly Mango was included in Viet Film Fest 2024. Read more of our coverage here.
Cathy Duong co-hosts cà phê book club, a monthly book club that meets in coffee shops across north Orange County, CA (IG: @caphebookclub). She enjoys traveling to Little Saigons, playing V-pop on her ukulele, and analyzing diasporic Viet literature.
