“Provocative and challenging and impressive.”
Kate Stratford
4.5 Stars
Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre
(Sydney Festival)
Dates: Until Feb 6th 2026
There’s a lot to unpack in Lacrima (Sydney Festival, Roslyn Packer Theatre). Theatrically large, Brechtian in style, cinematic in length, sumptuous in design and geo-political-social in scope, Caroline Guiela Nguyen’s meticulously researched tragedy asks the sort of questions which are more pertinent than ever, in a form which is both documentary and fiction. Performed in French, Tamil, English and sign language, with surtitles, the sense of the global is always present.
This is a production which breathes life into untold stories. Behind the wedding gown for a Royal Princess are lacemakers in Alencon, an elderly embroiderer in Mumbai and workers in a Parisian atelier racing to have the gown completed to a punishing schedule. A shroud of secrecy cloaks the entire process, including the abusive domestic relationship being silently endured by premiere atelier, Marion. As with the finest of fabrics, their stories are woven together to make a pattern of which they, as individual threads, are unaware.
However, there is a faint feeling that some strands deserve deeper treatment. There is the subplot of domestic violence which only fleetingly looks at how an industry which serves mostly women and is staffed by women workers, is subject to abuse and exploitation by men. The Mumbai story, of Abduls’ dedication to the point of blindness and his manager’s anger at the international codes of conduct that offer no protection to Indian workers, yet serve Western fashion houses. These deserve a play in their own right. Then there is the thread about the treatment of the mentally ill and hereditary disease. This last is perhaps where the script overreaches and distracts from the central story and themes.
And these themes? Like the plot line, they are multi-threaded. The ethics of haute couture houses exploiting workers in 3rd world countries despite the Utthan Pact of 2016; the careless entitlement of the elite wealthy; the cost physically and emotionally in meeting expectations; the love for the craft true artisans have.
Provocative and challenging and impressive. The run-time of 2 hours 55 mins without an interval gave me pause. Could I last? Indeed I did (they give a 3 minute stretch break midway) and I had not expected to. Because in truth, I doubted anything could keep me fully engaged and invested for 3 hours. But I was surprised by my own willingness to throw time out with the offcuts. With such exceptionally high production values, a small space in my brain was marveling at the cost of not only mounting this, but bringing it to Australia; for this is not a popular musical which will score ticket sales regardless. This is a piece designed for a particular clientele.
In the end, I walked away (slightly enraged) thinking – but it was just a dress! Is so much suffering really necessary for a dress? For a moment in history? What is the hidden human cost of every stitch in a globalised fashion industry? Are women still having to be reduced to what they wear? Isn’t it time we moved on from the tired old trope of the princess and her gown and her happily ever after? Or do people need the glory, even if only for the 27 minutes it is beamed across the world via satellite link to billions? I suspect these are the core questions at the heart of Nguyen’s work. For me, at least. I also suspect every individual will take away something else, something personal. Something global. Nguyen – this creator/director – will end up being listed amongst the greats of theatre history.
Another suspicion is that I will think about this event for days. And if you are one for post-show conversations over wine – this is a must see.
Photos by Wendell Teodoro
Kate Stratford, Theatre Now
