What’s in a word? An impression, a sound, a scent, an evocation? All of that and more in the word “Indochine” which exists in films and books and calls up tropical heat in fragrant gardens, broad tree-lined boulevards in the formal French manner,
- Tree-lined boulevards prevail still
invisible exchanges behind half-closed shutters, the sounds of passing rickshaws and horse-drawn carriages.
These are images drawn from a colonial past, an era that officially and rightfully ended in the mid-20th century. That was in 1954, when the French left, the country was divided into North and South, and two decades after the last Nguyen emperor, the French-educated Bao Dai, longing for a game of tennis, called upon his adopted father, Charles de Gaulle, to play with him on the royal tennis courts of the Imperial City.
And yet. As with any empire that came and went, the French left their mark on the region once know as Indochina, and while traveling for the first time through Viet Nam and Cambodia, I have been often surprised by the sense of “déjà vu,” that I seen this before, only to realize, yes, I’ve been there in France. From the broad, tree-lined boulevards of cities from Ho Chi Minh to Phnom Penh, to the elegant “French-style” buildings in Hanoi and Hue
to the proliferation of cafes where one can sit and sip latte or a dark espresso-like brew from mountain-grown beans, there are these inescapable moments of knowing. Yes, in fact, the French were here.
But the daily reminder of their presence is in the bread. Imagine being offered a sandwich on a lovely French roll in Siem Reap, on the edge of the temples of Angkor. Or encountering fresh baked baguettes in Hanoi, the capital of the communist government of the united Viet Nam. Or finding glass cases with exquisite pastries, equal to any grand “patisserie” of Paris, replete with “éclairs,” “palmiers” and “petits fours.” Or how about this: the exit to the main road east from Hanoi lined at intervals, like erect pillars in a temple, with women in conical straw hats holding immense bags of fresh rolls, round loaves and long, elegant baguettes of French bread to sell as a treat to motorists going to the countryside.
As for the French of Indochine, this much can be said: they came, they conquered, they built, they bombed, they lost, they left, but above all, they baked.
Joanna Biggar's Blog 
I recently watched both “The Quiet Tourist” (2002 movie starring Michael Caine) which gives one a sense of what the 1950’s in Vietnam must have been like, and “Indochine” (1992 movie starring Catherine Deneuve) set in 1930’s Vietnam when resistance to French rule was already happening.
Then I saw “Outside the Law” (2010) which focuses on an Algerian family caught up in their country’s struggle for independence from France. One of the sons returns from fighting in Indochina as a member of the French Army and finds that his family has moved into a shantytown in Paris.
All three of these films give one a glimpse of the fading out of colonial power in the Third World in the mid-twentieth century.
I could watch Sc’nrdleihs List and still be happy after reading this.