A minute-long montage, set to stirring classical music, of patronising international archetypes (cue toothless Chinese peasant), easily recognisable cultural touchstones (bindied-up Indian chick draped to hell in sari cloth and nose-rings) and politically correct role models (black man in business suit) designed to put a semi-human face onto a ruthless Wall Street mortgage lender or a rape-happy global drilling conglomerate or something, but which actually just leaves the viewer wondering « What the fuck was that all about then? »
I’m not saying Hoi An isn’t nice. It is. Almost self-consciously nice.
It’s just way too Vietnamese.