The Scandal Episode 3

What happens when desire cannot be controlled

Laclos’ Les Liaisons dangereuses, published in 1782, was one of the original scandalous novels…a provocative reflection of the hidden morals and hypocrisy of society. Its letters between lovers, seducers and victims go far beyond a simple ménage à trois. Sex becomes a game, love becomes a weapon, and reputation becomes the currency everyone is willing to gamble.

More than two centuries later, these dangerous liaisons continue to fascinate audiences, with films and series translating, if not completely reinterpreting, Laclos’ story to reflect their own cultures and societies. Thematically, even Bridgerton feels like a distant cousin.I admit, growing up I’ve always been fascinated by these stories…not merely for the acting or the sex, but for the psychology behind them. Why has sex remained one of the strongest human drivers? And what happens when desire collides with power, jealousy, reputation and societal expectations?

So just how close is The Scandal to the true essence of Laclos’ original French novel? Pretty close, in my opinion.I’ve watched the American interpretations, including the teenybopper Cruel Intentions, with great entertainment delight. But what fascinates me here is the transplantation into Korean culture. In the deeply patriarchal society of Joseon, how does an intelligent and manipulative woman achieve power when society gives her so little of it?And it isn’t merely about adapting the story. How does the director adapt the performances themselves to reflect that society? Desire cannot necessarily be expressed the way it was in France.

This was a world where even exposing a woman’s shoulder could be considered improper. Seduction therefore has to exist in the eyes, the pauses, the language, the gestures…and in everything that cannot be openly said.

After all, Joseon was no France.

I’m also fascinated by the director’s little creative touches. I enjoyed the visual distinction between time periods…the past presented in a fuller screen format while the present opens into widescreen. It’s such a simple cinematic device, yet immediately tells us where we are without having to explain it.Then there is the introduction to old Bukchon. Rather than simply showing us another beautiful historical set, the camera moves through it in what feels like a single continuous shot, allowing us to observe how people lived and how society functioned around the characters. For me, these little creative decisions matter. They make Joseon more than scenery…it becomes part of the storytelling.

JCW as the central male figure is interesting casting. We’ve become so accustomed to seeing him in action, romance and comedy that I initially found it challenging to completely erase that familiar screen persona and believe him as this Joseon playboy. But perhaps that’s precisely why he chose such an adventurous role…a period piece where he’s the love-struck gigolo of his time. I’m not completely convinced yet, but I’m curious to see whether Cho Won eventually makes me forget my stereotype.

This is also a show built heavily around conversations. I can understand why that may not appeal to viewers accustomed to faster pacing, rapid transitions and constant narrative movement. But the conversations are the action here. A glance, a carefully chosen word, a pause or an insinuation can accomplish what a sword fight does in another drama. These people aren’t fighting with weapons…they’re fighting with desire.

Because underneath all the beautiful costumes and restrained manners, this remains a story about sexual manipulation as a means to achieve power and personal gain.But at what price?

And perhaps the question that fascinates me most is how modern Korean netizens will react to these sordid stories from more than 200 years ago.I’m only beginning to peel away the layers, and I haven’t fully assessed the actors or their interpretations of these characters yet.

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