Written by Guest Contributor Christine Wan

Some shows entertain you. This one feels like it knows you.

Trent Foo’s (符志陀)A Chinese Christmas is a tender, quietly daring piece of diaspora theatre that begins as familiar family comedy only to open into something stranger, funnier, and surprisingly precise in its emotional truth.

It’s Christmas Eve in Australia. Heepa is hosting the annual family party, except his grandma isn’t coming. In a desperate attempt to make it right, he turns to a summoning book and descends into yōudū 幽都, the Chinese underworld, where he finds himself negotiating with ancestors, memory, and the heavy, unspoken rules of family expectation.

What makes the work land is how form and story are fused. The play threads myth and memory, English and Chinese, and live traditional music through action. The underworld becomes more than a plot device; it’s a literal version of what many children of migrants already do – travel between worlds, translate love, and try to resolve what was never said out loud. Foo is ingenious in breaking the fourth wall, interacting with the silent audience who are part-spectators, part-ancestors. The confluence of elements serves to highlights the very syncretic essence of the play’s central message of cultural becoming and familial love.

Under the directorial debut of Monica Sayers, Foo’s performance is calibrated and charming, with a sharp understanding that laughter is often the safest way to embrace grief. The production keeps its balance – nostalgic yet playful without smoothing over the ache beneath.

Foo is strongly supported by Tiang Lim (林珍妮, whose grounded presence gives the story space to breathe. Playing the part of Paw Paw, Lim has a striking resemblance to Foo’s real life grandmother, whose recent endearing yet firm call to action for the public to “come watch my grandson’s play” shows us why A Chinese Christmas is Foo’s love letter to her. Lim does not fall short of unfolding the ferocity of love that only Asian matriarchs exude. And then there is Jolin Jiang (蒋钟毓)who is anything but “background.” Jiang’s nimble fingers on the guzheng is a haunting reminder of ancient values that are revived amidst contemporary cultural amnesia. 

What makes A Chinese Christmas resonate is its refusal to flatten the migrant experience into either trauma or triumph. It makes room for both. It shows how love can be sincere and clumsy, how family expectations can be both protective and suffocating, and how the past can be both a burden and a home. 

If you grew up code-switching at home, holding two cultures in one body, or being raised by grandparents whose love arrived sideways, this play will feel less like a story you’re watching and more like a door opening. 

A Chinese Christmas leaves you with something rare. The sense that you’ve been seen.

A Chinese Christmas was performed at KXT on Broadway