‘Child Of Dust’ review: Doc follows Amerasian as he reunites with GI father

Dir: Weronika Mliczewska. Poland/Vietnam/Sweden/Czech Republic,/Qatar. 2025. 93mins.

Hundreds of thousands of children were born to local women and American servicemen during the Vietnam War. Five decades after the Fall of Saigon, some Amerasian children – now middle-aged – are still attempting to find their fathers. Polish director Weronika Mliczewska’s compelling feature-length debut documentary follows the courageous and determined Sang Ngo Thanh as he makes the turbulent journey to meet his father for the first time. 

Sombre but tenderly shot and heartfelt

Sombre but tenderly shot and heartfelt, Mliczewska’s quiet and intimate observational film – which has The Stringer director Bao Nguyen among its producers – brims with feeling. Child Of Dust hinges on universal themes of love and belonging, and is likely to forge a strong connection with audiences at further festivals helped by its Special Mention in the International Competition at Thessaloniki. Distributors could also be won over by its humanistic appeal.

Anyone who has seen Claude-Michel Schonberg and Alain Boublil’s hit musical Miss Saigon will be familiar with the so-called ’children of dust’. The negative epithet became attached to the unwanted offspring of American GIs, children who then who faced extreme prejudice in the south-east Asian country after the war. As Sang, whose own childhood was impoverished and brutal as a result of his circumstances, sends his DNA away for testing, Mliczewska already gives us a sense of the importance of the act to him. “I want to change my fate,” he states.

Even if they get a DNA hit, many Amerasians face immediate rejection from their fathers but Sang is one of the luckier ones; father Nelson Torres and his children are all determined to welcome this new member of their clan. The rawness of the first video call between Sang and his US family brings together the complex emotions at work, from Sang’s unbounded joy as he finally sees his dad to Nelson’s regret as he recalls his relationship with Sang’s mother and his remorse about Sang’s life experiences.

Given the strength of these feelings, footage of Sang going about his everyday life, showing the close nature of his relationship with his wife and his love for his grandchild, who they are taking care of, offers a welcome respite. But with Nelson too sick to travel, the only option Sang has is to get an American visa; due to the stringent US rules, it’s a one-way trip he will have to make without his wife and family. While not getting into the red tape, Mliczewska indicates the steep challenges Sang now faces. Beyond the intricacies of navigating a visa system with his poor educational background, he is also facing an overwhelming choice between the home he knows and a potential new one that he will have to tackle alone. 

It might not come as a shock that the reality of the US doesn’t match Sang’s idealistic hopes, as he grapples with cultural and language barriers as well as the weight of his own expectations, but Child Of Dust has more twists than you might expect. Despite the difficulties faced by Sang and his families in both countries, Mliczewska’s empathetic approach also celebrates the strength that community can offer in these situations, and the small gestures that can have big significance. The melancholic score from Joaquin Garcia also feels gently supportive as events unfold, rather than a device used to to wring extra emotion.

Although the film skips over some of the finer ins and outs of Sang’s first months in America, his bravery and stoicism are remarkable. And, as bookending archive footage of Amerasian children reminds us, his story is sadly far from unique.