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Queen of his heart
Friday, April 13, 2007 By Tara Bui

The filmmaker

The subject of his documentary is shown parading onstage.

Adjusting her headdress.

On a boat in her younger years. Pictures courtesy of Tố-Phương Nguyễn.

The minute David Ngô heard the exciting family news, he decided to hop a plane to Las Vegas.

After all, his aunt — Jackie Bông Wright, 64, of Virginia — had just won her state’s Ms. Senior America pageant. The newly crowned Ms. Senior Virginia 2004 would compete the following year in Sin City for the national title.

How could her nephew not turn out to support her?

“I immediately wanted to go and watch the pageant as a fan or to support; it just seemed so fun and crazy,” he remembered. “My cousin suggested that I might want to do a magazine article on the pageant, and then she talked about filming some of it, then about filming a feature length. I thought if someone was going to do it, it better be me.”

With a communications degree from UCLA, Ngô had been working in television programming for a few years, spending his free time learning the craft of screenwriting. Directing a documentary was a total departure from anything he had dabbled in before, but there was something intriguing about telling the story of his aunt and the 26 other state queens in the contest — something potentially poignant — that convinced him.

“The idea of documenting real-life stories and showing different facets of America that didn’t get that much exposure in the mainstream was a fascinating dynamic,” Ngô said. “It was unique because it was a story about senior Americans, a beauty pageant for senior Americans, and my aunt.

“Most films with Vietnamese characters and Vietnamese subject matter have always been dramas, usually second-hand telling. Often, people talking about the experience were never refugees themselves. It was fascinating to hear her words.”

Never in its history — the pageant started in 1982 — had the Ms. Senior America Pageant crowned a woman of Asian descent as its winner. Making it to the top 10 almost was unheard of. Ngô would be there, no matter what happened.

The ensuing documentary, “The Queen from Virginia,” begins five days before the finals as Bông Wright and her family check in to the Imperial Palace Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. Along the way, we meet Al Mott, director of the Ms. Senior America Pageant, and learn just what the competition is about.

It’s about women 60 or older willing to display an evening gown, a talent and their inner beauty by stating their philosophy of life in 35 seconds or less. And just for the record, a swimsuit competition isn’t part of the gig.

Woven into the feature, right there with the display of talent from sign language to operatic singing, is the story of Bông Wright.

The film traces back to her well-to-do origins in 1940s Cambodia, where her father was the successful director of a rubber plantation. It takes viewers through the family turmoil that evolved during the Việt Minh’s resistance against French rule, through Bông Wright’s first marriage to would-be Prime Minister Nguyễn Văn Bông, through his assassination, and her subsequent voyage to the United States. Along the way, viewers are treated to the tiny insights of life that documentary lovers all relish: the main character still climbing mango trees as a young woman or the irony of accepting rations from the Red Cross only weeks after she had worked to hand some out herself.

Viewers also observe the courtship between Bông Wright and Lacy Wright, a career diplomat. He is portrayed very much as a knight in shining armor, not only for his wife but for her children, struggling to adapt to another culture. Wright himself is a mild, likable character throughout, though pageants did not seem to be his thing. Bông Wright seemed to assume center stage even when domestic scenes were depicted. She was used to the limelight more than her husband. She chronicled her life in her autobiography, “Autumn Cloud: From Vietnam War Widow to American Activist.”

“Definitely as a filmmaker you should have an idea of how you want the story, regardless of not knowing what you’re going to get,” Ngô said. “At the time I didn’t know how good she and the other women would be on camera. Originally, we had planned for me to act as a narrator even though my voice is terrible on camera.

“It’s assumed that older people in our community can’t speak English and therefore are not smart. But she could pretty much tell the story in her own words. Me being in it didn’t matter.”

There could likely be a number of viewers who feel a trace of disconnect as the main character has led an extremely privileged life. Indeed, it isn’t every refugee who is the personal friend of a corporate titan who searches through refugee camps to find her, as happened with Bông Wright.

Still, there are poignant moments that every family can relate to. There is an endearing scene where sections of an interview with Bông Wright and her husband were crosscut with an interview of Victor and Alex, their sons. The portion, which served to juxtapose differences in generational remembrance, was also a humorous example of the malleable nature of family history.

Movie-goers can understand the imagery of homey Vietnamese food and large gatherings with relatives. Green papaya slaw with shrimp chips, fried rice, and xâm bổ lượng end long days of rehearsals and shooting, and cap off an eventful week of pageantry.

Making this film did not come without its struggles.

Being true to the genre also meant working within the confines of the given environment. In this case, that environment was mostly an oddly lit, bustling casino floor.

“There were a lot of challenges: noise, people, cigarette smoke... Needless to say, we had a really good sound guy. We shot about 75 hours of material, but the film was only 90 minutes. Most of our footage was completely unusable.”

Then, there was the typical problem that moviemakers have. Paying for it — and finding the time to produce it around their real jobs.

“We had to try to raise money, and that was a very big challenge,” Ngô said. “The film was privately funded. We got donations from family members, organized fundraisers, and made new friends who were supportive.

“Everyone who worked on the project had full-time careers; it took about two years to finish up.

While “The Queen from Virginia” lacks one element of the traditional documentary — conflict — it employs a number of techniques to emphasize its “realness.” As is typical with the documentary style, Ngô used a hand-held approach in some spots, weaving those scenes between numerous interviews shot traditionally. Over-the-shoulder shots showed moments of chaos or confrontation, forcing observers to skip from one party to another in a rapid succession, which supported the agitation. In one such instance, shots of Mott, nervously rummaging through a bag of misplaced files, are inserted as he observes the confusion onstage over some changes in choreography.
Though subtle, the effect is still amusing.

We won’t tell you just how the pageant ended, but one thing is sure: Bông Wright will have an everlasting memory of a trying week when she not only competed but was followed around nonstop by cameras.

“Surprisingly, she was really into it,” Ngô said. “I think her husband had no idea what they were getting into, and didn’t expect us to be following them 24/7. But she had always been very involved in politics and social work. She was used to having that attention, so it was just a reflection of her career.”

And perhaps the 35-second philosophy of life that Boâng Wright shared during the drama can sum up Ngô’s work that undoubtedly encountered some ups and downs.

“Success is not how high and fast you reach the top,” she said, “but how high and fast you bounce back when you hit bottom.”

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