OUR ORIGINS
The history of Varan began in 1978, when anthropologist and filmmaker Jean Rouch, instead of accepting an invitation to make a film about Mozambique – a country newly gaining its independence – decided instead to organize a filmmaking workshop there. His intention was to empower the people of Mozambique themselves to film and represent the realities of their own country.
A scene from the film “With or without me” – directed by Tran Phuong Thao & Swann Dubus.
The spirit of Varan belongs to the tradition of direct cinema – a practice of learning how to return the voice that has often been taken away to the very subjects being filmed, allowing them to speak in their own rhythm, complexity, cadence, and duration. It is also a process of learning to define one’s point of view, to locate and assume a gaze, and to assign meaning to it – in other words, to confront the ethical dimension of looking. These principles serve as the guiding compass for every film created within the workshop.
Students at Varan are encouraged to engage hands-on in every stage of creating their own films – in the most practical and self-reliant way possible.
They shoot their own projects and record sound for their peers’ films. This participatory pedagogy emphasizes collective exchange and collaboration throughout the filmmaking process. Such an approach enriches each participant’s perspective, allowing them to build upon one another’s strengths and sharpen their critical eye.
The distinctive storytelling techniques of cinema aim to evoke genuine emotion and stimulate a constantly evolving way of thinking. The audience is not positioned as a passive receiver of a “message” predetermined by the filmmaker. Instead, through one or several characters embodying fragments of real life – sometimes even in contradiction with one another – the viewer is invited to reflect, to relate, and to experience their own understanding of reality.
From this perspective, documentary cinema is not a place of definitive answers, but rather a space for questioning – of fragility, illusion, and the elusive strength of reality itself.
Each film creates its own form of expression – sometimes beyond conventions or habits. Yet, certain core pedagogical principles remain essential to the Varan method:
Filmmaking is not only a matter of intellect, honesty, aesthetic taste, or technical mastery – it is above all an ethical practice.
Rather than observing from a distance, we prioritize immersion in the field, with respect for the people being filmed. Curiosity comes from listening, not from the desire to dominate through technique.
To make a documentary is to face the unexpected. What we capture is not always what we initially planned or desired. Instead of ignoring or rejecting what diverges from our expectations, we must continuously reshape the film in response to what reality offers us.
Serious observation does not exclude dramatic storytelling. A film must be structured to create mystery, suspense, surprise, and emotional resonance.
It is neither simple nor spontaneous to bring Reality into the camera; this is why we speak of the act of directing. Directing here does not mean manipulation – it is the conscious recognition that a documentary constructs and develops a point of view. What we record are traces of what is seen and heard, which must then be arranged into a re-presentation of reality.
A scene from the film “Children of the Mist” – directed by Ha Le Diem.
Varan workshops allow participants to express their own cultural identities and to reveal the everyday realities of their countries. The instructors guide them in learning how to film from within – to capture realities often overlooked or ignored by mainstream media. In doing so, the participants become witnesses to life itself, developing a sharp awareness of the transformations and evolutions taking place within their societies. This inside gaze is both a way to understand oneself more deeply and a means to help the world understand who we are.
Selected images from workshops organized by Varan Vietnam throughout the years.
