Mizmay: An Emotional Story Set Against The Backdrop Of War

Devin Scott’s Mizmay, a deeply atmospheric and knee jerking short of under 16-minutes doesn’t prepare you for the emotional onslaught it delivers. The opening scene itself lets you know that this isn’t going to be your regular war drama. There is a tense build-up, and an unsettling precedence set with the dark hues that fills the screen. And, as the camera rests uneasily on to the namesake Mizmay’s eyes, you know Scott has succeeded in luring you into the tragic year 1972 and into Fire Base Hawk Hill in Vietnam.

It’s the Vietnam war. But, unlike most war dramas, this isn’t gory in the manner you’d expect it to be. In fact, to Scott’s credit, the film doesn’t succumb to the usual tropes. No war cries, no floating bodies, only raw, visceral numbness of the lives lost and on the brink of loss. Rob Amanto’s digital photography and sound score recreates the horrors of what might have transpired in the year 1972. There is an unmistakable despair that hangs in the dead of night when Mizmay (Melanie Glancy), an American USO dancer is brought to the Base to cheer up the American soldiers. The sight is detestable and Glancy manages to portray Mizmay’s sentiments right from the opening frame–that she wishes to be anywhere but there. The appalling dichotomy between the wretched and those spared of it isn’t lost on the audience. The suspension between the living and the dead and the unholy space it inhabits is so tangibly framed that it makes Mizmay a graphic narration of morality, despair and debauchery.

Mizmay is quickly made aware of her reality. This isn’t her usual trip of performance and quick pay. As the shelling continues, she finds herself in what seems like a bunker, injured and defenseless. Scott’s writing deserves special credit for the dialogues, the ease in its flow and of course, the characters introduced. So much so that, when little Hung (Mhiu Nguyễn) enters the plotline, the story pivots to its ultimate climax–one that is least expected, but a catharsis when finally offered. Nguyễn is simply put, brilliant. The age difference, the power dynamics between an orphaned little boy and a mother away from her own children, their respective nationalities and how they find each other in a space rife with despair–all makes for Mizmay a deeply moving short.

As they both begin to disclose their raison d’état, the overwhelming grief, the dichotomy of their being comes to unfold in a cataclysmic ending that is inevitable. Nguyễn is a force to reckon with, his dialogue delivery and ability to own the scene while being framed against only a single other actor is worthy of applause. Glancy, on the other hand, brings the restraint, the lived-in complexity of her character with a finesse that just elevates the story. The vulnerability, guilt and comeuppance is convincing despite the short timeline only because of the lead cast’s strength in their craft.

Scott’s Mizmay is a slow burn, that deftly avoids all tropes and heavily relies on its writing to engage the audience with a powerful message that there are no winners in war. And, so, when Mizmay in her closing line asks for something, the audience resonates with the sentiment like no other.

Highly recommended!

Watch Mizmay Short Film Trailer