The Santafe Theater in Bogota, Colombia, was filled with energy, emotion, and applause last Thursday, Oct. 16, with the premiere of The Pact (El Pacto, in Spanish), a musical that, despite being presented as a work of fiction, is inspired by a true story that shook the country 15 years ago.
That story, which took place on Halloween night, ended with the death of a young university student and a judicial process that, according to many, came to symbolize the impunity and corruption of Colombia’s judicial system.
Halfway between social drama and contemporary musical theater, The Pact does not seek to reconstruct the events, but rather to reinterpret them through a fresh, youthful perspective.
Through the voices, bodies, and stage presence of five young actors — Camilo Vargas, Kristal, Maria Fernanda Marin, Melissa Caceres, and Mateo Garcia — the play invites reflection on truth, guilt, and second chances in a country where justice often seems like a show without a happy ending.
‘The Pact’: The true story that inspired a musical about death and judicial corruption in Colombia
The plot of The Pact revolves around five friends who, after celebrating a Halloween party, become entangled in a tragic event that will mark their lives forever. The accidental — or perhaps not so accidental — death of one of them triggers a series of silences, lies, and pacts that stretch over time.
The script, written and directed by Kristal — one of the performers — takes as its starting point the case of a young man found dead under strange circumstances in a canal in northern Bogota. Although the judicial process never fully clarified the responsibilities, the episode exposed the cracks in a system that harshly punishes the weak and protects those with power or influence.
“This is not a play about death, but about the fear of telling the truth,” Kristal explained to Colombia One during the presentation a few hours before the premiere on Thursday, Oct. 16, at the Santafe Theater. “Many of us in Colombia grew up knowing that, in certain circles, justice is negotiable. The Pact is born out of that anger, but also from a need to heal through art,” said the young artist.
With choreography by Laura Bello, far from being a solemn drama or a moral pamphlet, The Pact relies on a vibrant musical language that blends fear, intrigue, and human passions with precise choreography expressed through the freshness of its young protagonists.
In a musical production by Santiago Triana, the audience moves, in a matter of minutes, from the frenzy of a budding romantic feeling — in the setting of a college party — to the tension of an inexplicable death on Halloween night, and the emptiness left by shared guilt.
“We wanted the audience to feel that everything is happening inside their own heads, and we invite everyone to come see the play and discover the mystery born from a night of fun,” said Maria Fernanda Marin, another of the stars.
A young, powerful cast that blurs the line between fiction and reality, holding a mirror up to Colombia
The cast of The Pact features five actors representing a new generation of Colombian theater talent. Camilo Vargas plays Camilo, a frustrated suitor hurt by the rejection of a confident upper-class young woman — like himself — who, portrayed by Kristal, is attracted to another boy.
Alongside them, Melissa Caceres plays Jenn, a supposed best friend who “isn’t really such a friend, because she’s one of those people who talk behind your back and stab you later,” as the actress herself explains about her character.
One of the most moving roles is that of the deceased’s sister, played by Maria Fernanda Marin, who says she accepted “the challenge of doing something different from what I’ve done before, and I believed in my friend’s project,” referring to Kristal’s script.
The cast is completed by Mateo Garcia, known to a wider audience for his role as “Arbelaez” in the Netflix series Eva Lasting (La primera vez, in Spanish). In The Pact, Garcia plays Alejandro Cardona (A.C.), a young man with Afro features whose initials help the audience understand how this story began — a story that has now become a musical that Bogota audiences can enjoy every Wednesday and Thursday until December, at 8 p.m., at the Santafe Theater in the Chapinero neighborhood.
Although the creators insist that The Pact is a work of fiction, the echo of the real events that inspired it is undeniable. The original case — whose name is never mentioned during the performance — involved young people from influential families, contradictory accounts, and a judicial process riddled with irregularities.
That deliberate distance between reality and the stage allows the audience to fill in the blanks. It’s not about identifying the guilty, but about confronting a system that has normalized impunity.
The main achievement of the play’s creators is that the Colombian audience, in truth, needs little explanation to grasp the nature of the “pact.” With music, strong performances, and a dose of reflection on personal actions and the workings of the country’s justice system, the audience needs nothing more to understand how a system designed to favor the privileged continues to do so.
The effervescence of independent theater in Colombia
The Pact does not aim to offer solutions or moralize. Its merit lies in showing how impunity can become a collective pact that goes beyond the courts. In that sense, the play serves as a mirror for a generation that, despite its disillusionment, still believes that art can stir consciences.
The combination of music, theater, and social critique makes The Pact one of the most significant premieres of the year on Bogota’s theater scene — not only for its artistic quality but also for the courage to touch a wound that remains open in Colombian society.
In the words of Kristal, the play’s creator and one of its protagonists: “We want people to leave the theater with questions, not answers. Because sometimes, only when we dare to doubt do we begin to understand what justice really is.”
With performances scheduled through the end of the year, The Pact promises to continue generating debate, emotion, and catharsis. It serves as a reminder that, although pacts of silence still exist, there are also pacts of art, memory, and resistance that deserve to be celebrated on stage.
The play, part of the independent theater movement, reflects the current wave of creative effervescence that this kind of art is experiencing in Colombia — particularly in its capital, Bogota. From small, self-managed venues such as La Maldita Vanidad, Casa E, or Teatro R101, to more established stages like Teatro Santafe, new works are being presented that challenge theatrical conventions and address social, political, and identity issues.
Far from large commercial productions, these spaces are committed to experimentation, closeness with the audience, and the building of artistic community. Despite economic difficulties and limited government funding, Bogota’s alternative theater scene remains an essential cultural engine, reflecting the diversity and resilience of contemporary Colombian art.
Related: Halloween in Colombia: Between Imported Tradition and Local Celebration.