The Scent of Green Papaya (L'odeur de la papaye verte) (1993)

The Scent of Green Papaya is Girl With a Pearl Earring meets Babette's Feast but in 1950s Saigon. It's a sensory feast that presents each sight and sound as if it were new, with little dialog to get in the way. I can still hear the crackle of the split papaya's flesh. See it also if you (like Mui) appreciate lizards, frogs, and crickets and living in harmony with nature. Man San Lu and Tran Nu Yen-Khe play the servant girl Mui at ages 10 (in 1951) and 20 (in 1961). The family's mother treats Mui well because her own mother does nothing but mourn the loss of a granddaughter who also would have been 10. The youngest boy (about 5) finds ways to torment Mui but she remains faithful to her duties and at peace with her life and the world around her. (If you wonder why his parents didn't spank him, please remember that they are Buddhists.) Half the joy of this movie is to see how life was lived in a 1950s Saigon neighborhood. The open walls and windows, the flora and fauna, the rains, the music, the prayers, and all the daily routines -- we see all the sights and hear all the sounds. (We have to imagine the feel of the papaya flesh and its seeds within.) The minimal dialog is culturally true; I love the scene where Mui displays variations of the facial expressions of a supplicant or servant for several minutes. Time here is not what it is in urban America, thank the Maker. Life is rooted and fully human, each moment lived with purpose and intent -- almost languorously -- and beauty, because even in uncertainty, even in sorrow, the prepared soul can find beauty and peace. This is cinema -- unpretentious and authentically human. It may change you profoundly. Incidentally, Netflix hasn't stocked it in months so I acquired it through my public library interbranch request system. 5 stars.