El Escándalo (2026)

DESIRE HAS ITS PRICE

There’s something so deeply unhinged about watching Yun and Won sit there and basically go, “You know what would be fun? Destroying this woman’s life for entertainment.” Like hello??? Hui-yeon has already lost her husband before they were even married and these two looked at her situation and decided it was apparently the perfect opportunity for a little recreational emotional terrorism.

And what makes it worse is that neither of them is exactly doing this because they’re happy. Won is desperate for Yun, Yun is miserable and completely trapped in a life where she has basically zero control over anything, and instead of either of them dealing with their actual problems like normal people, they decide to turn someone else’s feelings into a board game. Incredible coping mechanisms all around.

But honestly, that’s what makes the premise work for me. The wager isn’t really about seduction. It’s about control. These people live in a society where they’re constantly being told who they’re supposed to be, what they’re allowed to want and how they’re supposed to behave, so naturally they respond by becoming pathological little liars who manipulate everyone around them. Nobody says what they actually want. Nobody enters a relationship with completely honest intentions. Everyone is hiding something, and every time somebody thinks they’ve finally gained control, the situation immediately goes to hell.

And Hui-yeon is probably the most painful part of that whole mess because you KNOW she’s going to get hurt. You can see the disaster coming from approximately 18 miles away. You’re sitting there like GIRL PLEASE DO NOT FALL FOR THIS MAN. HE IS LITERALLY DOING A BET. But she has no idea, and watching her slowly become emotionally invested makes the whole thing increasingly uncomfortable. Especially because Won’s feelings start getting messier too, and suddenly the question isn’t just whether he’s manipulating her, but whether he has started believing his own bullshit.

Yun is also way more interesting than I expected her to be. She could’ve easily been written as the "Evil Seductress Who Starts The Bet And Smirks In A Corner" but there’s actually a person underneath all of it. The more we understand her history with Won and how little control she has over her own life, the more the wager starts feeling like this incredibly f***ed-up attempt to reclaim some kind of power. Not a healthy one, not even remotely. But you understand where it comes from.

And Son Ye-jin and Ji Chang-wook??? They are SICK for this. Their chemistry is genuinely ridiculous. The tension between Yun and Won does so much heavy lifting because these two can look at each other for five seconds and suddenly I’m sitting there like okay apparently we’re doing incestuous emotional warfare today. Nana is also really good, especially because Hui-yeon’s vulnerability could have easily become annoying or overly saintly, but she gives the character enough warmth that you actually feel awful watching her get dragged into this disaster.

The whole thing is also ridiculously pretty. Like everyone is committing emotional crimes against each other but at least the lighting department is having the time of their life. The drama has this dreamy, almost romantic visual quality that makes everything happening underneath it feel even nastier. You’re watching gorgeous people in gorgeous clothes ruin each other’s lives and somehow the show makes you want to keep pressing “next episode” like you’re not actively witnessing a social experiment conducted by demons.

My biggest problem is the pacing because JESUS CHRIST. This thing takes its time. And then takes some more time. And after that it apparently needs a little walk around the block before it decides to move the plot forward. There are stretches where the drama is clearly trying to build tension but instead of tension I’m just sitting there thinking okay girl we understand the point now. Some character decisions also feel suspiciously like the writers needed them to happen rather than something the actual characters would logically do, which does occasionally pull you out of the story.

But underneath all the scheming and seduction, there’s a genuinely sad story here about people who desperately want freedom and have absolutely no idea what to do with themselves when they can’t have it. They want control over their own lives, so they start controlling everyone else’s. They want to be loved, so they manipulate people into loving them. They want freedom, so they make other people pay for the fact that they don’t have it.

And eventually the funniest part of the whole wager is that nobody actually wins. Because once real feelings start getting involved, the entire game becomes completely useless. You can manipulate somebody into falling in love with you, but you can’t control what happens to you when you start falling in love too. And THAT is where this drama gets really good.

Full review coming soon! Stay tuned.

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They Understood the Seduction — But Were Afraid of the Consequences

The Scandal is now on Netflix.

First, just for context, it is worth clarifying where this story comes from, because there already seems to be some confusion about it.

The Scandal is a direct adaptation of Les Liaisons dangereuses, the novel by Choderlos de Laclos, published in 1782, as Netflix itself credits it.

At the same time, director Jung Ji-woo has described the series as a remake of the 2003 Korean film Untold Scandal, directed by E J-yong, which transplanted Laclos's story to the Joseon era.

And when E J-yong made that film, he also pointed to the 1988 Hollywood adaptation Dangerous Liaisons, directed by Stephen Frears, written by Christopher Hampton, and starring Glenn Close, John Malkovich and Michelle Pfeiffer, as a predecessor.

So there are several layers of adaptation here: the original 1782 novel, the famous 1988 film, the 2003 Korean reinterpretation, and finally this new 2026 series.

With that out of the way, let's talk about the series.

What a way to butcher and sanitize a story.

Because The Scandal did understand one part of the original material: the eroticism, the seduction, and the games of manipulation. In fact, there are episodes where it handles those elements extraordinarily well.

The problem is that it understood the seduction, but was afraid of the consequences.

And there are five changes that dismantle much of the tragedy of Choderlos de Laclos.

First: Cho Won's death.

Come on.

In the novel, Valmont dies after a duel with Danceny and, before dying, hands over the correspondence that will eventually contribute to Merteuil's destruction. His death is part of the machinery of consequences that he himself helped set in motion.

Here, Cho Won simply goes out alone in a boat, lets himself fall into the water, and dies. Worse still, nobody even knows that he died. They believe he ran away.

A death directly connected to revenge, guilt, and the downfall of these characters is transformed into a melancholic, romantic disappearance.

Second: Hui-yeon survives.

In the novel, Tourvel's emotional destruction ultimately leads to her death. Here, Cho Won confesses that everything began as a wager, breaks her heart, a year passes... and Hui-yeon returns to his house still hoping that she might find him there.

Tragedy becomes romantic nostalgia. The woman destroyed by Valmont's game is turned into the typical long-suffering heroine who continues waiting for the man who destroyed her.

Third: So-ok, or Cécile.

In the original work, Valmont's corruption of Cécile is one of the darkest and most ruthless demonstrations of who this man really is.

Here, Cho Won never goes through with that part of the plan, and the pregnancy is tied to In-ho, the Danceny counterpart. By doing this, the series removes from its version of Valmont one of the actions that would make it far more difficult to keep selling him to the audience as a misunderstood romantic lead.

Fourth: Lady Cho gets away practically unscathed.

And for me, this is one of the most serious changes.

Merteuil ends up being devoured by the very game of manipulation she created. Lady Cho, on the other hand, retains her position, is never publicly exposed, loses none of her status, and ends up simply crying over her cousin.

And fifth: the letters.

Throughout the entire series, we are shown letters. Letters used to seduce, letters used to lie, letters used to manipulate, letters used to conceal identities and move people around like pieces on a chessboard.

And in the end?

Nothing.

In Laclos, the correspondence is not decoration. It is practically the murder weapon of the story. What these characters wrote in private eventually becomes evidence of what they did and directly contributes to their destruction.

Here, the series spends its entire runtime using the letters, and when the moment finally comes for them to explode, it defuses them.

Nobody learns the truth. Lady Cho is never exposed. Cho Won disappears almost as a romantic tragic figure. Hui-yeon keeps waiting for him. And So-ok ends up established as a concubine with her child.

That is my problem with this adaptation.

Not that it changed events. An adaptation has every right to do that.

The problem is that it changed precisely the consequences of those events.

And without consequences, Les Liaisons dangereuses loses its teeth.

In the end, they chose to turn a tragedy about manipulation, desire, arrogance, and self-destruction into a far more conventional and sanitized romantic melodrama.

They knew how to make them desire.
They knew how to make them manipulate.
They knew how to make them fuck.

But when the time came to make them pay... they made a K-drama.

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