logo
Click to Donate

Ghost Money is a feature-length narrative documentary about the filmmaker’s return to Vietnam to search for his wartime lover only to find that he might have fathered her child. Failing to find his girlfriend or his child, he falls in love again and marries a 30-year-old Vietnamese mother of two. This feature-length personal documentary spans a decade of life, as we witness the beginning and end of a relationship and the transformation of two immigrant children into American teens. Through a rich fusion of live-action footage, hand-drawn animation and rare archival film, Ghost Money is a moving chronicle illuminating the legacy of the Vietnam War—broken families, unfinished lives and left-over children.

I invite you to become a part of the Ghost Money community. Through our non-profit fiscal sponsor, From the Heart Productions, your donation is tax deductible. Whatever you have to give is most appreciated. Please check at the end of this message for the perks you are entitled to for your support.

 

Why Vietnam?

Two and a half million Americans served in Vietnam. Fifty-eight thousand were killed in action. Three hundred thousand were wounded. Over three million Vietnamese died in the war. Perhaps two million of those were civilians. People are still dying, blown up from unexploded ordinance or born deformed from Agent Orange toxins in the soil and water or in the blood of American Veterans and their kids. I believe that America as a culture has never truly reckoned with the issues engendered by the Vietnam War.

Ghost Money will reveal a side of the war rarely seen in films: the bars, massage parlors, and social world of a REMF (Rear Echelon Motherfucker, a common pejorative military term referring to soldiers who have no frontline or combat experience). These young men were cut loose in the fleshpots of Saigon where a private’s paycheck could get you just about anything you wanted. The military’s encouragement of prostitution (along with drinking and drug-taking) went far beyond mere tolerance. According to Nick Turse, “sexual violence and exploitation became an omnipresent part of the American War.” Ironically, despite racial and gender-based subordination, some Asian prostitutes and bar girls enjoyed a freedom that would have been impossible in their home villages. They supplied a kind of camaraderie otherwise unavailable to soldiers seeking relief from the war. GIs formed strong attachments to Vietnamese sexual partners (as I did), and they returned to “the world” full of anger, guilt, and resentment.  The divorce rate among Vietnam veterans is above 90%. I’m one of them.

Synopsis

I was drafted in 1971 and stationed in Saigon as an Army entertainment specialist a year before the end of U.S. troop involvement in the Vietnam War. I became infatuated with a Vietnamese girl named Liên, aka Candy. Beguiling and seductive, Candy claimed she had supernatural powers and was possessed by the ghost of a Buddhist nun. I found myself sliding down a rabbit hole into a strange world unlike anything I had ever experienced. Our romance scorched through the seasons until I received orders to return home. Claiming a previous American boyfriend had returned to Vietnam, Candy broke up with me, and I went home.


 

Forty years later, as a filmmaker with an artist’s fellowship, I return to Vietnam in search of Candy. Why? Like a few million other Americans, in combat or not, I lost something in Vietnam; something like innocence, security, confidence. America’s sense of superiority got knocked down a few notches in this sliver of a country on the other side of the world. Plagued all my life by failed relationships, disappointments, and depression, I felt that maybe back in Vietnam I might recover that thing that was lost in the embrace of a strange and beautiful girl. Armed with only a couple of wallet-sized photos and a handful of scribbled addresses, I make enough progress to make a life-changing discovery: Candy may have given birth to my child. Suddenly the stakes go up. Somewhere in the world there might be a 40-year-old Amerasian searching for me.

The quest for Candy and my child takes me through the backroads of Vietnam and the alleys of Saigon to the Vietnamese-American communities of Houston and Biloxi, leading back to Vietnam a year later. Thwarted by false leads, my search dead-ends and I find myself falling in love again, this time with my 30-year-old informant. Her name is Quyên. Answering one of our newspaper ads, Quyên claimed that as a little girl she knew Candy. Now, she is a divorced mother of two. I meet her family at a funeral and our relationship begins. After a prolonged online engagement, we decide to marry and apply for a fiancé visa, the same visa I had once hoped would bring Candy to the states. Quyên and her two children, a 6-year-old boy and an 8-year-old girl, fly to the U.S. and squeeze into my tiny, subsidized apartment in Portland. Then things get complicated.

 

Lawrence Johnson is a producer, director, writer and animator. Known for his acclaimed documentaries, Stuff (2005), Hand Game (2000) and Native Wisdom (2019), Lawrence has produced over 100 films seen across the country in film festivals and museums and on public television. In 2012, he received the Regional Arts and Culture Council's Media Arts Fellowship, honoring artists who are the strongest representatives of the range and diversity of art in the Northwest. 

 

Donation levels - Perks

$1-$99      Contributor -Mention in the credits

$100        Contributor - Blu-ray, invite to premiere + above     

$500        Supporter - Signed original animation drawing + above

$1000       Supporter - Special notice in the credits + above

$2500       Player - Original 1972 drawing (see ghost-money.com) + above

$5000       Hero – Invite to screenings and Zoom feedback sessions + above

$10000      Associate Producer – Special phone calls with director + above

Donate via Credit Card or eCheck

Details

$10
$20
$50
$100

Personal Info

Billing Address

Payment

Secure transaction provided by
Summary of your donation
Donation period Total
Lawrence Johnson Productions FAQ
Is my donation tax deductible?
Depends on a few factors like if you received a reward in exchange for the donation and the value of your donation above that rewards cost, etc. You may contact the nonprofit you donated to directly to receive information on whether or not your donation is tax deductible. Nonetheless, the emailed receipts you will receive for your donation is the documentation you need to make it tax deductible.

WeDidIt FAQ
Is my donation and credit card info secure?
Yes, the security and confidentiality of your information is our highest priority. We will not sell, trade or share your personal information with anyone else, nor send donor mailings on behalf of other organizations, and we will only share personal information if you have given us specific permission to do so.

How do I know that my donation was made successfully?
You will receive an emailed receipt immediately after your donation is submitted and your credit card is processed. Your donation will also show up on your bank or card statement within 1-3 business days.

Do I get a receipt?
Yes, a receipt is sent to your email inbox once your donation is processed. Please be sure to keep a copy of your receipt for tax purposes. If you select a recurring donation, you will be sent an individual receipt each period when your donation is processed.

Is my donation private?
We will not share or sell a donor's personal information with anyone else, nor send donor mailings on behalf of other organizations.