A Vietnamese man rides a scooter while his older sister sits in the back eat. They are dressed fabulously for Pride celebrations.
Hot Docs

Baby Jackfruit Baby Guava Review: The Fruits of Shared Labour

Hot Docs 2026

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Baby Jackfruit Baby Guava
(Vietnam/South Korea/Switzerland, 105 min.)
Dir. Nhật Quang Nông
Prod. Trang Dao, Sarah Kang, Heejung Oh
Programme: International Spectrum Competition (International premiere)

 

Filmmaker Nhật Quang Nông tosses a lovely fruit salad of sorts in his striking feature debut Baby Jackfruit Baby Guava. This deeply introspective and personal exploration of family, queerness, and mental health charts Nông’s journey both personally and professionally. It strikes some familiar notes of self-discovery that one often sees in breakthrough works in which the filmmaker’s family is at the centre. However, Nông probes his family story with a distinct voice. Baby Jackfruit Baby Guava displays introspective artistry and a cinematic perspective confidently defined by the upbringing that he probes so intimately and eloquently.

Nông looks to the past to make sense of his family’s present in this cinematic diary shot over many years. His self-reflection finds inspiration in his sister, Ngoc Mai, dubbed “Baby Jackfruit” as a childhood term of endearment, when she reveals that she is pregnant. (Cue “Baby Guava.”)

This news brings the family at a crossroads. As Nông reveals, the family has a history of leaving things unsaid and unacknowledged. This silence includes the (obvious) fact that Nông is gay. He doesn’t hide his sexuality from his family, but as the unabashedly fabulous filmmaker reflects in voiceover, his queerness wasn’t a talking point in the family even though he recognized this aspect of himself early on. He jokes that he hid his gayness by doing well in school. But even as an adult, his partner remains a secret to the family. When his mom, Cuc, visits his flat, Nông “sweeps the gay away” and hides all evidence of his personal life.

This code of family silence has serious implications. Nông explains in voiceover as the film revisits old family photographs that his relationship with Mai shifted as they aged. His sister, nine years his senior, begins as a cool mentor, ally, and friend when Nông lays the foundation of the story. However, he reveals that Mai had terrible mood swings and pitted family members against each other in increasingly irrational fights. Even when doctors diagnosed Ngoc Mai as neurodivergent, Nông admits that the family chose silence even though putting a name to the situation could have been a breakthrough. Both siblings share a sort of kinship through their unspoken of identities. Cuc, meanwhile, speaks openly about carrying the burden of having a gay son and a crazy daughter.

As Nông sifts through memories while also seeing Mai’s situation as a lens through which he can assess his own life, Baby Jackfruit Baby Guava tenderly explores what it means to step out of silence. Mai goes off her meds due to her pregnancy, which makes her more prone to episodes. These mood swings invite uncomfortable moments, but they also draw the family closer to reality. Mental health and being open about things be something they have to navigate with Baby Guava.

Nông takes a cue from this philosophy and introduces his partner, Leland, to the mix. Naturally, Cuc doesn’t approve. She finds Leland too old, too foreign, and too gay to be a good match for her young son. But at least she says that.

Baby Jackfruit Baby Guava tenderly observes how embracing one’s identity allows other facets of life to crystalize. The film’s sumptuous kaleidoscopic aesthetic beautifully evokes a sense of a fragmented self. Nông draws upon archival photos, diaries, and memories of happier times as well as painful moments from the past. But he also infuses the film with a sense of queer joy. Shots of the filmmaker at the clubs with his friends reveal an artist who thrived with his chosen family when his birth family preferred to keep the door closed. This film brings the families both biological and chosen together in an affectionate expression of forgiveness, empathy, and love.

From the outset, Baby Jackfruit Baby Guava may sound like a film that audiences have seen before – emerging filmmaker peels back layers of family history through an artfully introspective lens. However, the personal nature of the film and the warmth and affection with which Nông lovingly excavates shared history, ensures a fresh and open-hearted portrait. The film serves empathy and tough love with equal measure, yet draws all parties together for a warm, if reluctant hug. It squeezes the heart just right.

Baby Jackfruit Baby Guava screened at Hot Docs.

Check back for our interview with Quang, and get all of POV’ coverage from the festival here.

Pat Mullen is the publisher of POV Magazine and leads POV's online and festival coverage. He holds a Master’s in Film Studies from Carleton University where his research focused on adaptation and Canadian cinema. Pat has also contributed to outlets including The Canadian Encyclopedia, Xtra, That Shelf, Sharp, Complex, and BeatRoute. He is the president of the Toronto Film Critics Association and an international voter for the Golden Globe Awards. He also serves as an associate programmer at the Blue Mountain Film + Media Festival.

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