There are plays that move beyond the boundaries of entertainment to become moral experiences. “Lạc” is one of them. Refusing to make itself “easy viewing”, and resisting the temptation to manipulate emotions through melodrama or cheap tears, the production chooses a more demanding path: placing the audience in a state of self-interrogation. No one is allowed to remain passive, and no one is permitted the comfort of innocence.
Original Vietnamese version available here: Đọc bài viết tiếng Việt
Premiering on the evening of 17 December 2025 at the Nhà hát Kịch Sân khấu nhỏ Drama Theater, “Lạc” quickly proved itself to be anything but a conventional theatrical work. Commissioned by the Ho Chi Minh City Theatre Association, the script by Trần Mỹ Trang, winner of an A Prize at the 2024 Playwriting Residency—carries a sharply contemporary sensibility, yet goes far beyond mere “social reflection”. More importantly, “Lạc” poses a troubling question: where does human disorientation truly begin—from circumstance, from power, or from the small compromises we allow ourselves to ignore each day?

The hospital – a space of life, and where the death of ethics begins
Set within a general hospital, “Lạc” ventures straight into one of the most sensitive fault lines of contemporary society: medical ethics. Here, a medical equipment contract—seemingly a matter of pure economics—becomes a ruthless test of conscience for those in positions of authority. Mr Tài, the hospital director, and Dr Đức (a character emblematic of a gifted yet precarious professional generation) are not portrayed as one-dimensional villains. They are recognisably human: capable, ambitious, armed with justifications, and sufficiently fragile to slide into the vortex of power, money and prestige.
What makes Lạc compelling is not its act of accusation, but the way it forces the audience to recognise that choices which appear personal are never merely personal. They ripple outward—towards colleagues, lovers, patients—people who entrust their lives and faith to a system over which they have no real choice.
The character of Trang, a journalist and the partner of Dr Tuấn, provides a striking counterpoint. She does not embody “perfect justice”, but rather the voice of inner conflict: between love and truth, between protecting the one she loves and honouring professional responsibility. Here, Lạc offers no answers—only situations. And it is the stage’s silence at crucial moments that makes the air feel unbearably tight.

When theatre mirrors a turbulent social moment
“Lạc” cannot be separated from the social context in which it emerged. In recent years, Vietnam has witnessed a succession of large-scale economic cases brought to trial under the principle of “no forbidden zones, no exceptions”. The healthcare sector—long perceived as an ethical safe haven—has repeatedly become the epicentre of public outrage, from medical equipment and pharmaceuticals to food safety and cosmetics.
Trần Mỹ Trang’s script does not shy away from this reality. Yet instead of recounting specific scandals, “Lạc” delves into psychological mechanisms: why do those who once held ideals gradually cross the line? Why does the silence of the majority become the most dangerous form of complicity?
In this sense, Lạc is not merely a play, but a spiritual chronicle of a society undergoing self-purification—marked by pain, confrontation, and fragile hope.

Restrained staging: tense but never oppressive
Confronted with such a weighty script, directors Quốc Thịnh and Trần Đàm Công Ninh opted for a judicious approach, refusing to plunge the stage into prolonged gloom. Moments of subtle humour—particularly in exchanges between doctors and patients—appear at precisely the right time, like a necessary breath. The laughter does not dilute the message; it keeps the audience lucid enough to absorb the ethical climaxes that follow.
The supporting choreography by Flying Dance Crew stands out as a thoughtful device. Rather than illustration, movement becomes a second emotional layer—soft yet haunting—amplifying inner turmoil beyond the reach of dialogue.
The stage design by Doãn Bằng is restrained and contemporary, cool enough to evoke the emotional chill of power, yet open enough for entangled relationships to reveal themselves.

Music – the echo of unanswered questions
The theme song Lạc, composed by Phùng Tiến Minh and performed by Bùi Anh Tuấn, does not guide emotions in a familiar, manipulative manner. Its restrained, aching melody unfolds like an extended self-questioning: where exactly are we lost in the journey of being human? Used sparingly, the music imposes nothing, yet lingers long after the curtain falls.

Performance: no one is innocent on this stage
The ensemble of Lạc demonstrates remarkable balance. Trọng Hiếu, as Mr Tài, does not need raised voices to convey authority; it is his cold restraint and fleeting hesitations that render the character unsettling. Chánh Thuận offers a seasoned counterweight, recalling values quietly abandoned. Công Danh and Tạ Lâm form a pairing in which every glance carries an unspoken conflict.
Notably, Minh Quốc’s portrayal of the medical equipment company representative avoids the trap of a stock antagonist. His character appears exactly as society often operates: courteous, reasonable, and always equipped with a rationale to justify compromise.

“Lạc” – an uncomfortable reminder for the audience
Ultimately, what stays longest with Lạc is not its plot or staging techniques, but the unease it leaves behind. Unease born of the realisation that the boundary between right and wrong, integrity and compromise, is far more fragile than we like to believe. And that anyone, in the varied roles of everyday life, can become “lost” if indifference is allowed to persist for too long.
At a time when Vietnamese theatre is striving to reclaim its social voice, “Lạc” stands as an encouraging sign. Quiet, unforced, yet sharp enough to pierce the most sensitive regions of conscience, it is the kind of work that sends audiences out of the theatre with more questions than answers and perhaps that is precisely what contemporary theatre needs most today.
Performance information:
“Lạc” will continue to be staged at 7:00 p.m. on 4 January 2026 at the Nhà hát Kịch Sân khấu nhỏ Drama Theater. A work that does not cater to complacency, but richly rewards those willing to confront themselves.
Text: Minh Nguyễn | Image: Khoa Trần

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