The worst thing about Asian cinema is when the characters inevitably start singing to themselves. Three Seasons has a lot of singing, compounded by a lot of talking about flowers, which is the only thing imaginably worse than the singing. To be sure, this intertwining tale (the first Vietnamese production since forever) has moments of haunting beauty, most notably the final image -- which also serves as the poster and video box -- but those are few and far between. Most of the time we're stuck in dreary Ho Chi Minh city in the rain and mud. And that movie, I've already seen.