Reviewed by Julie-Anne Whitney
My Home on the Moon (East Coast Premiere) by Minna Lee. Directed by cara hinh; scenic and projection design by Qingan Zhang; lighting design by Kat C. Zhou; sound design by Hien Nguyen; costume design by Eric Tran; props and puppet design by Amanda Gibson; stage managed by Em K. Ross. Presented by CHUANG Stage at the BCA Plaza Theatre through June 13, 2026.
When you open the door to the lobby of the BCA Plaza Theatre, be prepared for a new experience. As you move down the stairs, you are welcomed by an undulating row of “floating” origami boats that pull your attention toward a detailed history of Vietnam (which you can’t help but read). The usually quiet, empty room has been transformed by music, hanging lanterns, decorative faux trees, and fictional Vietnamese restaurant signs. This impressive lobby display was designed by local artist, Bonny Chen and CHUANG Stage’s Director of Artistic and Community Programming, Jenny S. Lee– and it does a great job at setting the mood for the playful, strange, insightful, and wildly creative show you’re about to see.
The first thing you notice about CHUANG (pronounced like “tron”) Stage’s production of Minna Lee’s My Home on the Moon is the set. Designed by Qingan Zhang, the set is deceptively simple yet incredibly detailed. Complete with a glowing ancestral shrine, a beaded doorway curtain, hanging red lanterns, a wall-mounted telephone, and a beat-up cash register, the space feels wonderfully authentic. Amanda Gibson’s props are so realistic and carefully chosen/displayed, it will have you wondering if she nicked them from an actual Vietnamese restaurant.
It’s not only the set that has been well designed. While you’re waiting for the show to begin, check out the back of the program where you will find a thoughtfully curated list of events– one for each night of the run– that includes Viet flavor tastings, bakery pop-ups, interactive workshops, post-show story circles, round-table discussions, and more. The events celebrate Boston’s many AAPI artists, makers, and businesses and add some local flavor to an already engaging theatrical experience.
My Home on the Moon begins with Lan (a sadly miscast Christina R. Chan) making an offering to her ancestors and praying that they will help keep her restaurant, Pho Lan, afloat by bringing in more customers. Next, we meet Mai (a solid performance by Belle Le), Pho Lan’s chef and Lan’s chosen daughter, a “sad and grumpy” Queer person who finds it easier to communicate with food than with words. Lan and Mai bemoan the relentless gentrification of their community as they witness a local bakery being torn down across the street. With unpaid bills stacking up, Mai reminds Lan that they, too, might be forced to sell the restaurant to one of the money-hungry developers that is taking over the city.
When Lan tells Mai that she applied for a small business loan, Mai becomes suspicious when the “loan company” drops off an over-sized gift basket filled with tempting treats. After eating some laughably large biscotti, Lan and Mai pass out and wake with no memory of what happened the previous evening. When Vera (a delightful and convincing Emma Na-yun Downs) a mysterious, high-energy “consultant” appears in the restaurant and explains that the “loan” will cover all of their expenses– past, present, and future– Mai knows something is off. With the help of a bizarrely sexual marketing scheme, updates to the restaurant’s menu, a fresh coat of paint on the walls, and Vera’s ever-cheerful guidance, Pho Lan becomes a huge success, seemingly overnight.
Overjoyed with their good fortune, Lan and Mai don’t seem to notice that their new “colleague” Vera doesn’t behave like a normal human. Perhaps this is because her somewhat robotic behavior is masked by her endearing enthusiasm for doing everyday human things like sweeping, cooking, dancing, and eating. But when Mai offers Vera one of her homemade spring rolls– and Vera accepts– the story takes a surprising turn and jolts you (and the characters) out of the pleasant comfort of the restaurant and into the cold digital world of a soulless tech giant.
Director cara hinh’s staging of the light-hearted comedic scenes with the narcissistic Food Critic (Lee Baladejo) and his eager-to-please camera operator (a dynamic Jenny S. Lee), and the spontaneous Vietnamese Lion Dance (played with gleeful gusto by Baladejo and Lee) were particularly effective. Though most of the scene transitions could have been sharper, hinh manages to make sense of a story that doesn’t always make sense (e.g. Lan’s trip to the moon on a giant sparkly rice noodle was pretty out there, but hinh somehow made it both funny and moving).
Minna Lee has written a play that is both joyfully theatrical and frighteningly realistic. My Home on the Moon skillfully straddles the world that we know and the world that is coming. When Lan and Mai have to choose between an artificial reality that feels safer and happier than their actual reality– it is heartbreakingly believable.
This production isn’t without its flaws– and it won’t be everyone’s cup of tea– but I’ve long stopped searching for “perfect” shows that get everything right. Theater can still be enjoyable, informative, provocative, and memorable without being “perfect.” My Home on the Moon was my first CHUANG Stage experience– but it won’t be my last.
