The boundaries of creativity: lessons from recent Vietnamese copyright disputes

Where does inspiration end and infringement begin? In September 2026, a Vietnamese reality show apologised for a stage set copied from a luxury brand’s design. That same month, the Supreme People’s Court approved a precedent on proving authorship when a registered work is challenged. Together with the debate over an art installation referenced in a popular singer’s music video, these matters show where Vietnam’s creative industries are drawing the line.

In 2014, poet Trương Minh Nhật posted his poem Gánh mẹ on Facebook. In 2019, musician Quách Beem registered copyright in a song of the same name, including its lyrics, which later featured in the film Lật mặt 4. Quách Beem produced no evidence that his song was originally created in 2013, as he claimed, and a forensic assessment found the song’s lyrics nearly identical in wording, line breaks, and structure to Nhật’s poem.

In Appellate Judgment No. 66/2023/KDTM-PT of June 27 2023, the Ho Chi Minh City High People’s Court ruled for Nhật. On September 24 2026, the Supreme People’s Court’s Council of Judges approved the judgment as a precedent (pending publication): a registration certificate is only prima facie evidence, and once credible counter-evidence emerges, its holder must prove authorship.

During the September 2026 season of reality TV show Anh Trai Vượt Ngàn Chông Gai, a wedding-gate set for the performance aired on September 19 was found to reproduce part of a 2017 Gucci wedding invitation design. Within two days, the organisers confirmed the copying, apologised, hid the performance video, and promised stricter copyright checks.

The show’s art director acknowledged that the reference had gone “beyond the limit”. Allegations about other sets, including a giant đàn tính (a traditional Vietnamese stirnged instrument) centrepiece, remain unconfirmed.

In June 2026, the music video for Come My Way, a hit song by Sơn Tùng M-TP featuring Tyga, also faced backlash over a set design. Observers likened it to visual artist Lê Giang’s 2017 installation Tàn Chỉ, which features plaster-cast fragments of northern Vietnamese đình làng (communal houses).

The video production team admitted to including Tàn Chỉ in their moodboard and referencing its visual language without prior permission. They apologised publicly, and the contested scene was later removed. Lê Giang rejected the ‘reference’ framing, however, stressing that her specific creative choices, not generic heritage motifs, had been used without permission.

The Come My Way dispute raises three unresolved legal questions that distinguish it from straightforward copying cases such as the first two mentioned.

First, copyrightability: Tàn Chỉ draws on Vietnamese architectural heritage that is itself in the public domain. Lê Giang’s claim rests on her specific curatorial choices, including the selection, fragmentation, casting technique, and spatial arrangement of those fragments. Whether that layer of authorship constitutes a protectable ‘creative imprint’ distinct from the underlying heritage remains untested in Vietnamese courts.

Second, if Tàn Chỉ is protected, is the music video set an unauthorised derivative of it? Under Article 4.8 of Vietnam’s IP Law, derivative works – including adaptations, modifications, transformations, or arrangements – are permitted, as long as they do not prejudice the original author’s rights. The set appeared only briefly, and the team called it “referencing visual language”. Without an element-by-element comparison, it remains debatable whether it exceeded permissible inspiration.

Third, moral rights: even if economic rights infringement is not established, Lê Giang's integrity right under Article 19 of the IP Law, namely her right to object to modifications prejudicial to her honour or reputation, could independently ground a claim – again, if Tàn Chỉ is copyrightable. Yet what constitutes a prejudicial modification in this context remains undefined.

A central question in referencing disputes is where inspiration ends and infringement begins; that is, did the alleged infringer draw on shared heritage or appropriate the original creator’s specific expressive choices? Under the IP Law, infringement arises when a work’s distinctive “creative imprint” is substantially reproduced without authorisation, whether in whole or in part, and by any means.

Generic motifs rooted in tradition – such as đình làng architectural reliefs, the đàn tính, or wedding imagery – belong to the public domain and may freely inspire new works. Protection attaches only when a contemporary creator adds a distinct expressive layer, as with Gucci’s specific invitation composition or Giang’s deliberate curatorial and material choices in Tàn Chỉ.

Gánh mẹ adds a practical dimension. Copyright arises upon creation and fixation, not registration, so a certificate cannot shield a copier where credible counter-evidence, such as an earlier-dated publication, exists. The same evidentiary logic extends to AI. Under Article 5a of Decree 134/2026/ND-CP, protection requires substantial human creative contribution, and AI remains merely a tool, as an ongoing criminal case over AI-modified áo dài (traditional Vietnamese dress) designs in Ho Chi Minh City shows.

The cases sit at different points on the spectrum. Gánh mẹ was clear-cut and is now precedent. The Gucci set is equally clear on the facts, as the organisers admitted copying, and it shows how easily a moodboard ‘reference’ can turn into straight reproduction under production deadlines.

Tàn Chỉ is more ambiguous. The installation’s protectability apart from its heritage sources, whether the stage set crossed into substantial reproduction, and whether moral rights were engaged are all open to debate. In both of the stage-set cases, apologies and content removal contained the reputational damage but settled none of the legal questions.

The lessons from the three cases above reveal a consistent principle: tools and references may evolve, but respect for original creative labour remains foundational. A registration certificate does not replace proof of creation, AI does not create legal loopholes, and shared heritage does not justify unpermitted borrowing of specific expressions. These disputes are a reminder to respect prior rights, document one’s creative process, and innovate responsibly.