VTV’s announcement that Tao Quan will not air on Lunar New Year’s Eve 2026 has stunned audiences. Behind the shock is a painful but inevitable truth.
What is Tao Quan?
Tao Quan - literally “The Kitchen Gods” - is the title of Vietnam’s most iconic year-end television special, officially named Gap nhau cuoi nam (Year-End Meeting). Inspired by a folk belief that three kitchen gods ascend to Heaven each year to report on a household’s deeds, the show reimagined them as bureaucrats humorously reporting on the country’s events to the Jade Emperor.
First aired in 2003, Tao Quan evolved into a beloved satirical platform blending comedy, music, and sharp social commentary. For 23 years, it was more than entertainment - it was a cultural ritual marking the arrival of Lunar New Year.
When VTV confirmed that Tao Quan would not be part of the 2026 Lunar New Year’s Eve programming, it triggered a cultural earthquake. The public’s sense of loss was visceral - but behind the disappointment lies a truth long in the making: even the greatest teams must eventually rebuild.
Tao Quan: Vietnam’s emotional anchor
A scene from Tao Quan 2025. Photo: VFC
In the history of Vietnamese television, few phenomena have displayed the resilience and emotional contradiction of Gap nhau cuoi nam, affectionately known as Tao Quan. For 23 years, it transcended entertainment to become a ritual - a symbolic passing of the year. Its cancellation felt akin to a World Cup final being called off minutes before kickoff.
Audiences had already "entered the stadium," mentally prepared for the annual face-off between the celestial court and the ever-irreverent Tao characters. But the whistle blew before the game began. That rupture left a gaping cultural void. For millions, Tao Quan was more than a comedy - it was the signal that Tết had arrived. Its absence brings not just a missing laugh, but a lack of emotional release before the new year.
If Tao Quan were a national football team, the years 2003 to 2013 would mark its golden era - a Brazilian squad of 1970 flair. This was the age of “Joga Bonito” in comedic form: sharp satire, unbounded creativity, and total emotional engagement.
People’s Artist Quoc Khanh, the quiet captain, played a deep-lying midfield role as the aloof but potent Jade Emperor. His deadpan lines often served as game-changing passes.
The forward duo - Nam Tao (Xuan Bac) and Bac Dau (Cong Ly) - was legendary. Xuan Bac, the cunning playmaker, wielded razor-sharp wordplay, while Cong Ly, in the role of the sharp-tongued yet deeply relatable "Co Dau," struck with irreverence and precision. Their chemistry punctured societal taboos with wit and grace. Nam Tao and Bac Dau are two celestial mandarins in Vietnamese folklore, traditionally believed to assist the Jade Emperor in managing the heavens and overseeing human affairs.
When the rules of the media game change
Nam Tao (Xuan Bac - right) and Bac Dau (Cong Ly).
Behind Tao Quan’s success stood a cast of versatile midfielders: Tu Long, Van Dung, Quang Thang, Chi Trung - actors capable of transforming dry reports into satirical musical numbers that resonated across generations.
But even in football, brilliance has its limits. Age, health, and a fading hunger for the stage began to show. Once the stars tire or get injured, high-intensity pressing becomes unsustainable. The dream team aged, and no replacements were ready.
The discontinuation of Tao Quan in 2026 is not merely a consequence of physical fatigue but of a radically altered media environment. Once the nation’s sole year-end commentary platform, Tao Quan now competes with Facebook and TikTok, where memes and parodies appear instantly. By the end of the year, the public has already processed major events - leaving little surprise for satire to exploit.
Worse, audience expectations became crushing. Tao Quan was not just expected to win - it was expected to win beautifully. In recent years, it shifted to a more cautious style, softened its satire, and leaned into viral trends. Critics called it bland, but this was a survival tactic against increasingly harsh public scrutiny and time constraints.
Spring Square and the question of identity
The show set to replace Tao Quan - Quang truong mua xuan (Spring Square) - has been marketed as youthful, modern, and music-driven. But from an artistic lens, it marks a shift from political-social satire to variety entertainment.
Quang truong mua xuan resembles a ceremonial match more than a real contest - glitzy and heartwarming but devoid of dramatic conflict. Tao Quan captivated because it was a battle of wits, a tug-of-war between accountability and obfuscation. A cheerful music program, no matter how lavish, cannot replace a pressure valve where the people’s frustrations were aired on national television.
This 2026 pause could be a “halftime break” - an opportunity for the coaching staff to reassess and safeguard a legacy. Choosing not to field a fragmented lineup after losing legendary captains is a courageous decision.
The pain of actress Van Dung not being able to “run onto the pitch” on Lunar New Year’s Eve, and the disappointment felt by millions of loyal fans, speaks volumes about the emotional imprint Tao Quan has left behind. People don’t mourn what they don’t value. The love for the show remains eternal - as long as the team returns with the spirit of fighting for the people’s voice.
For a strong comeback, Tao Quan will need a bold regeneration strategy: invest in young talent, innovate format and technology, but above all, preserve its combative spirit and social critique.
Vietnamnet.vn
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