This review may contain spoilers
10 - because It speaks to the heart, that’s why.
Queen of Tears is being re-released marathon-style this weekend (6/3-5/26) in Korea. This feels like the perfect opportunity to revisit and review one of my favorite dramas and also respond to some of the criticism I’ve seen out there.
To those who have thoughtfully articulated their criticisms on various sites, I respect you for clearly explaining your perspectives. However, to those who gave this drama a low rating after dropping it within the first three episodes, to keep ratings fair, I would respectfully suggest placing those early impressions in the comments section rather than the review section.
—The Acting
I believe the director of Queen of Tears intentionally employed a restrained style of acting between Kim Soo-Hyun and Kim Ji-Won for Baek Hyun-woo’s and Hong Hae-in’s characters. Meaning there was more silence and less dialogue, with much of the communication happening through eyes, facial expressions, delayed reactions, and unspoken emotions. This approach drew viewers into the characters’ thoughts and feelings, allowing us to experience their emotional journeys alongside them.
For me, much of the drama’s suspense came from these moments rather than from cliffhangers at the end of episodes. Both Kim Ji-won and Kim Soo-hyun portrayed their characters with remarkable refinement and skill. Each displayed the wide acting range necessary to create truly multidimensional characters.
Not only can Kim Soo-hyun portray profound sorrow, but he also excels at restraint. He masterfully utilizes subtle gestures and micro-expressions, communicating volumes without words. I’ve seen many of his dramas and films. Never have I seen him display more varied gestures, facial expressions, or dimensions within a single character than he did with Baek Hyun-woo. As Baek Hyun-woo, he convincingly portrayed boyish innocence, explosive anger, intense longing, devastating heartbreak, emotional collapse, and everything in between.
To the critics, how is that not great acting?
Kim Soo-hyun needs no defense from me. He proved his ability years ago. Part of South Korea’s finest assembly of actors, he became his country’s highest-paid K-drama actor and one of its most awarded actors through consistent excellence. One does not reach that status by being flat or mediocre.
Kim Ji-won has likewise evolved into an exceptionally dynamic actress. I first enjoyed her performance in Descendants of the Sun, but there is a night-and-day difference between her acting range then and what she delivered in Queen of Tears.
She gave us a subtly layered Hong Hae-in: a strong, uncompromising Type-A personality who is fiercely defiant but too proud to openly express emotions that might be perceived as weakness. Some of her funniest moments came through her indirect expressions of affection—asking leading questions, offering backhanded compliments, or scolding Hyun-woo before admitting he made her heart flutter. These moments, in my view, highlighted just how difficult it was for her to communicate genuine romantic feelings.
As Hae-in’s journey progressed, Kim Ji-won revealed her character’s deepest vulnerabilities at precisely the right moments and in exactly the right measure, making her both believable and relatable.
Queen of Tears would not have been the same story without both Kim Soo-hyun and Kim Ji-won. They were equals as actors, just as their characters were equals within the story. To say they had little or no chemistry is, in my opinion, to have missed much of what the drama intended to convey.
—The Character Development
Kim Soo-hyun once remarked in an interview that Baek Hyun-woo begins the story as a loser. In some respects, he was right.
Hyun-woo was passive, submissive, and immature in his understanding of love. He believed enduring mistreatment without protest was an expression of devotion. Eventually, being constantly wounded by the Hong family—including his wife—became unbearable.
He convinced himself that he hated her.
Not surprisingly, with that mindset, divorce appeared to be his only escape. Then came the shocking realization that his wife’s impending death might conveniently solve his problems for him.
What a cowardly way of thinking.
Hae-in sounded as though she understood what love was when she spoke to Eun-sung. In reality, she was every bit as immature as her husband. She seemed to believe that as long as Hyun-woo remained “by her side,” they would be alright. He said he would always be there, didn’t he?
At the beginning of the story, we see how thoroughly she has adopted her family’s arrogant sense of superiority, which justifies mistreating those of lower status for personal gain—even when that person is her husband. As we saw in the nursery scene, she hid behind that arrogance as a way of coping with the miscarriage.
While utterly foolish, Yang-gi’s suggestion that Hyun-woo pretend to love Hae-in in order to secure a place in her will became a blessing in disguise. Or…, perhaps it was a calculated move by Yang-gi to help his best friend see the truth beneath all the hurt.
Luckily, Hyun-woo cannot truly pull off hating Hae-in. As her condition deteriorates, his resolve gradually crumbles. His love for her reignites.
In reality, he never hated her at all.
The pivotal moment comes in Germany. Completely defeated, he deliberately provokes a divorce battle from Hae-in, not because he wants to leave her, but because he desperately wants her to live. He gives her something to fight for, even if it is not with him.
This is where Baek Hyun-woo fully embraces what love truly is—not merely a feeling, but a choice and a commitment expressed through action.
In helping the Hong family escape to Yongdu-ri, Hyun-woo proves that love by devoting himself completely to protecting Hae-in and her family. We later learn that he contacted hundreds of cancer centers around the world in search of treatment options for her.
Likewise, Hae-in’s growth begins when she finally “wins” the divorce. Only then does she begin to examine herself honestly and see Hyun-woo for who he truly is, the only man she could ever love. She realizes that he gives her a reason to live and that she cannot bear the thought of a future without him—whether in life or in death.
For a fiercely independent and emotionally guarded woman, this was enormous character development.
When she found herself separated from the pressures of her corporate life in Yongdu-ri, Hae-in revealed a softer side she may never have known existed. The ultimate expression of her selfless love for Hyun-woo came during the press conference, where she exposed Eun-sung in order to protect him.
The overall family relationships ultimately reinforced one of the drama’s central themes: that love outweighs money, status, and power. When they lost it all, they could finally see and appreciate each other.
Beom-ja, although initially too eccentric to be taken seriously, became a scene-stealer who consistently provided much-needed comic relief.
Yang-gi also stole nearly every scene he appeared in. In fact, I think his final scene with Hyun-woo was one of the most memorable moments involving any supporting character in the entire drama.
Ironically, Eun-sung did nothing to weaken the Baek-Hong relationship. If anything, he strengthened it. Despite all their resentment and misunderstandings, neither Hyun-woo nor Hae-in seriously looked elsewhere. Eun-sung, wonderfully portrayed by Park Sung-hoon, never truly had a chance.
—The Story and Valid Criticisms
Queen of Tears was approximately two years in the making, including about a year of filming. Across its roughly 23-hour runtime, Studio Dragon delivered a beautiful story about two people who had forgotten how deeply they loved each other and who rediscovered that buried love after a life-threatening tragedy nearly ended their relationship forever.
It’s worth remembering that the drama was reportedly inspired in part by the real-life story of a Samsung heiress who married a regular employee.
Stories, fables, and even biblical narratives often use extreme or unrealistic circumstances to communicate deeper truths. I view many K-dramas through a similar lens. Not every detail needs to be realistic if the emotional truth resonates.
This is why I can accept some of the more exaggerated elements of Queen of Tears. One could dismiss parts of the story as unrealistic, yet real life often proves stranger than fiction.
That said, even as someone who loved the drama, I can acknowledge its flaws.
Too much screen time may have been devoted to the mechanics of the conspiracy against the Hong family. The writer and director likely felt it necessary to illustrate the lengths psychopaths will go to in pursuit of power and wealth, but I was not heavily invested in all of the related side characters and their storylines. Some of that time could have been spent further developing the Baek-Hong relationship.
The Hong family—excluding Hae-in—sometimes came across as overly naive in their trust of people who clearly sought to exploit them. At first, I found it difficult to believe that Hae-in’s mother remained trapped in grief over her son’s death for so many years, but unfortunately some people never fully recover from such losses.
Grandfather, who trusted every word Baek Hyun-woo said, suddenly placed his faith in a complete stranger and eventually removed Hyun-woo from the board. That transition felt abrupt.
Eun-sung’s character arc never truly evolved beyond his obsession with possessing Hae-in and controlling Queens Group. Despite the writers’ efforts, viewers never developed meaningful sympathy for him or for his mother, Moh Seul-hee. We were repeatedly reminded how terrible a mother she was, often more times than necessary.
—The Second Half
The collapse of Queens Group and the destruction of Baek Hyun-woo’s life is where some viewers felt the drama lost focus. With so many moving parts, keeping track of everything could be challenging. Grace’s role as a double agent often felt like a wrench thrown into the machinery of the plot.
The exile to Yongdu-ri introduced numerous additional storylines, some of which felt unnecessary. Yet the central focus remained the Baek-Hong relationship. Every major event either contributed to or reflected their gradual surrender to the love they had spent years suppressing.
These moments may seem like plot diversions, but most of them serve a deeper purpose: they forced the building of a new relationship between two people who thought they knew each other but actually didn’t.
—The Illness and the Plot Extremes
Critics who argue that Hae-in’s illness lacked realism make a fair point. The drama could have done more to show its physical effects and the reality of her recovery.
Likewise, Hae-in’s post-surgery recovery was far more glamorous than reality would allow. Still, those shortcomings were not deal-breakers for me.
The arrest in Germany, the kidnapping, the hit-and-run, Hyun-woo somehow leaving the emergency room in one piece, and the winter gunshot sequence all pushed the boundaries of plausibility. But these were narrative devices designed to intensify the emotional climax between Baek Hyun-woo and Hong Hae-in.
Alchemy of Souls was pure fantasy, yet audiences embraced it because they connected emotionally with the characters. The same principle applies here.
—Why I Still Rate It So Highly
Even someone who loves Queen of Tears can acknowledge its flaws and still give it a 9 or 10.
Why?
Because, taken as a whole, the drama speaks to the heart.
I have never been wealthy, nor did I marry into a chaebol family. Yet the relationship between Baek Hyun-woo and Hong Hae-in reminded me of my own marriage.
My love was immature in the beginning. Like many couples, we experienced our share of dramatic and difficult moments. Then, in our sixth year together, my husband began suffering life-altering medical episodes while still appearing healthy on the outside.
I had to grow up. I had to choose to love him, not simply rely on the fluctuating feelings associated with being in love.
An emergency room doctor’s quick thinking over the phone taught me how to respond during his episodes. What I learned helped save his life at least a dozen times.
A year later, the end came suddenly and tragically. There was no opportunity to go back and correct my mistakes. No chance to revisit the moments when I had been immature or selfish.
After spending enough time blaming myself, I eventually realized something important: he never held those mistakes against me. He had made plenty of his own. We always understood that about each other, even during our worst arguments.
That realization changed how I viewed Queen of Tears. Forgiveness is one of the highest forms of love in action.
I love the song “Way Home,” but because of my own experiences, it is still difficult for me to listen to the final soundtrack without becoming emotional.
—Why is Queen of Tears a treasured story for many
I am certain I am not the only viewer who found pieces of their own life reflected in this drama.
Queen of Tears may contain over-the-top moments, but many viewers accept them because extraordinary moments exist in ordinary lives. We just don’t read about them every day.
In the end, despite its plot holes, detours, and occasional excesses, Queen of Tears succeeds where it matters most.
It reminds us that love is not merely something we feel.
Love is a choice. And it is not for the faint of heart.
To those who have thoughtfully articulated their criticisms on various sites, I respect you for clearly explaining your perspectives. However, to those who gave this drama a low rating after dropping it within the first three episodes, to keep ratings fair, I would respectfully suggest placing those early impressions in the comments section rather than the review section.
—The Acting
I believe the director of Queen of Tears intentionally employed a restrained style of acting between Kim Soo-Hyun and Kim Ji-Won for Baek Hyun-woo’s and Hong Hae-in’s characters. Meaning there was more silence and less dialogue, with much of the communication happening through eyes, facial expressions, delayed reactions, and unspoken emotions. This approach drew viewers into the characters’ thoughts and feelings, allowing us to experience their emotional journeys alongside them.
For me, much of the drama’s suspense came from these moments rather than from cliffhangers at the end of episodes. Both Kim Ji-won and Kim Soo-hyun portrayed their characters with remarkable refinement and skill. Each displayed the wide acting range necessary to create truly multidimensional characters.
Not only can Kim Soo-hyun portray profound sorrow, but he also excels at restraint. He masterfully utilizes subtle gestures and micro-expressions, communicating volumes without words. I’ve seen many of his dramas and films. Never have I seen him display more varied gestures, facial expressions, or dimensions within a single character than he did with Baek Hyun-woo. As Baek Hyun-woo, he convincingly portrayed boyish innocence, explosive anger, intense longing, devastating heartbreak, emotional collapse, and everything in between.
To the critics, how is that not great acting?
Kim Soo-hyun needs no defense from me. He proved his ability years ago. Part of South Korea’s finest assembly of actors, he became his country’s highest-paid K-drama actor and one of its most awarded actors through consistent excellence. One does not reach that status by being flat or mediocre.
Kim Ji-won has likewise evolved into an exceptionally dynamic actress. I first enjoyed her performance in Descendants of the Sun, but there is a night-and-day difference between her acting range then and what she delivered in Queen of Tears.
She gave us a subtly layered Hong Hae-in: a strong, uncompromising Type-A personality who is fiercely defiant but too proud to openly express emotions that might be perceived as weakness. Some of her funniest moments came through her indirect expressions of affection—asking leading questions, offering backhanded compliments, or scolding Hyun-woo before admitting he made her heart flutter. These moments, in my view, highlighted just how difficult it was for her to communicate genuine romantic feelings.
As Hae-in’s journey progressed, Kim Ji-won revealed her character’s deepest vulnerabilities at precisely the right moments and in exactly the right measure, making her both believable and relatable.
Queen of Tears would not have been the same story without both Kim Soo-hyun and Kim Ji-won. They were equals as actors, just as their characters were equals within the story. To say they had little or no chemistry is, in my opinion, to have missed much of what the drama intended to convey.
—The Character Development
Kim Soo-hyun once remarked in an interview that Baek Hyun-woo begins the story as a loser. In some respects, he was right.
Hyun-woo was passive, submissive, and immature in his understanding of love. He believed enduring mistreatment without protest was an expression of devotion. Eventually, being constantly wounded by the Hong family—including his wife—became unbearable.
He convinced himself that he hated her.
Not surprisingly, with that mindset, divorce appeared to be his only escape. Then came the shocking realization that his wife’s impending death might conveniently solve his problems for him.
What a cowardly way of thinking.
Hae-in sounded as though she understood what love was when she spoke to Eun-sung. In reality, she was every bit as immature as her husband. She seemed to believe that as long as Hyun-woo remained “by her side,” they would be alright. He said he would always be there, didn’t he?
At the beginning of the story, we see how thoroughly she has adopted her family’s arrogant sense of superiority, which justifies mistreating those of lower status for personal gain—even when that person is her husband. As we saw in the nursery scene, she hid behind that arrogance as a way of coping with the miscarriage.
While utterly foolish, Yang-gi’s suggestion that Hyun-woo pretend to love Hae-in in order to secure a place in her will became a blessing in disguise. Or…, perhaps it was a calculated move by Yang-gi to help his best friend see the truth beneath all the hurt.
Luckily, Hyun-woo cannot truly pull off hating Hae-in. As her condition deteriorates, his resolve gradually crumbles. His love for her reignites.
In reality, he never hated her at all.
The pivotal moment comes in Germany. Completely defeated, he deliberately provokes a divorce battle from Hae-in, not because he wants to leave her, but because he desperately wants her to live. He gives her something to fight for, even if it is not with him.
This is where Baek Hyun-woo fully embraces what love truly is—not merely a feeling, but a choice and a commitment expressed through action.
In helping the Hong family escape to Yongdu-ri, Hyun-woo proves that love by devoting himself completely to protecting Hae-in and her family. We later learn that he contacted hundreds of cancer centers around the world in search of treatment options for her.
Likewise, Hae-in’s growth begins when she finally “wins” the divorce. Only then does she begin to examine herself honestly and see Hyun-woo for who he truly is, the only man she could ever love. She realizes that he gives her a reason to live and that she cannot bear the thought of a future without him—whether in life or in death.
For a fiercely independent and emotionally guarded woman, this was enormous character development.
When she found herself separated from the pressures of her corporate life in Yongdu-ri, Hae-in revealed a softer side she may never have known existed. The ultimate expression of her selfless love for Hyun-woo came during the press conference, where she exposed Eun-sung in order to protect him.
The overall family relationships ultimately reinforced one of the drama’s central themes: that love outweighs money, status, and power. When they lost it all, they could finally see and appreciate each other.
Beom-ja, although initially too eccentric to be taken seriously, became a scene-stealer who consistently provided much-needed comic relief.
Yang-gi also stole nearly every scene he appeared in. In fact, I think his final scene with Hyun-woo was one of the most memorable moments involving any supporting character in the entire drama.
Ironically, Eun-sung did nothing to weaken the Baek-Hong relationship. If anything, he strengthened it. Despite all their resentment and misunderstandings, neither Hyun-woo nor Hae-in seriously looked elsewhere. Eun-sung, wonderfully portrayed by Park Sung-hoon, never truly had a chance.
—The Story and Valid Criticisms
Queen of Tears was approximately two years in the making, including about a year of filming. Across its roughly 23-hour runtime, Studio Dragon delivered a beautiful story about two people who had forgotten how deeply they loved each other and who rediscovered that buried love after a life-threatening tragedy nearly ended their relationship forever.
It’s worth remembering that the drama was reportedly inspired in part by the real-life story of a Samsung heiress who married a regular employee.
Stories, fables, and even biblical narratives often use extreme or unrealistic circumstances to communicate deeper truths. I view many K-dramas through a similar lens. Not every detail needs to be realistic if the emotional truth resonates.
This is why I can accept some of the more exaggerated elements of Queen of Tears. One could dismiss parts of the story as unrealistic, yet real life often proves stranger than fiction.
That said, even as someone who loved the drama, I can acknowledge its flaws.
Too much screen time may have been devoted to the mechanics of the conspiracy against the Hong family. The writer and director likely felt it necessary to illustrate the lengths psychopaths will go to in pursuit of power and wealth, but I was not heavily invested in all of the related side characters and their storylines. Some of that time could have been spent further developing the Baek-Hong relationship.
The Hong family—excluding Hae-in—sometimes came across as overly naive in their trust of people who clearly sought to exploit them. At first, I found it difficult to believe that Hae-in’s mother remained trapped in grief over her son’s death for so many years, but unfortunately some people never fully recover from such losses.
Grandfather, who trusted every word Baek Hyun-woo said, suddenly placed his faith in a complete stranger and eventually removed Hyun-woo from the board. That transition felt abrupt.
Eun-sung’s character arc never truly evolved beyond his obsession with possessing Hae-in and controlling Queens Group. Despite the writers’ efforts, viewers never developed meaningful sympathy for him or for his mother, Moh Seul-hee. We were repeatedly reminded how terrible a mother she was, often more times than necessary.
—The Second Half
The collapse of Queens Group and the destruction of Baek Hyun-woo’s life is where some viewers felt the drama lost focus. With so many moving parts, keeping track of everything could be challenging. Grace’s role as a double agent often felt like a wrench thrown into the machinery of the plot.
The exile to Yongdu-ri introduced numerous additional storylines, some of which felt unnecessary. Yet the central focus remained the Baek-Hong relationship. Every major event either contributed to or reflected their gradual surrender to the love they had spent years suppressing.
These moments may seem like plot diversions, but most of them serve a deeper purpose: they forced the building of a new relationship between two people who thought they knew each other but actually didn’t.
—The Illness and the Plot Extremes
Critics who argue that Hae-in’s illness lacked realism make a fair point. The drama could have done more to show its physical effects and the reality of her recovery.
Likewise, Hae-in’s post-surgery recovery was far more glamorous than reality would allow. Still, those shortcomings were not deal-breakers for me.
The arrest in Germany, the kidnapping, the hit-and-run, Hyun-woo somehow leaving the emergency room in one piece, and the winter gunshot sequence all pushed the boundaries of plausibility. But these were narrative devices designed to intensify the emotional climax between Baek Hyun-woo and Hong Hae-in.
Alchemy of Souls was pure fantasy, yet audiences embraced it because they connected emotionally with the characters. The same principle applies here.
—Why I Still Rate It So Highly
Even someone who loves Queen of Tears can acknowledge its flaws and still give it a 9 or 10.
Why?
Because, taken as a whole, the drama speaks to the heart.
I have never been wealthy, nor did I marry into a chaebol family. Yet the relationship between Baek Hyun-woo and Hong Hae-in reminded me of my own marriage.
My love was immature in the beginning. Like many couples, we experienced our share of dramatic and difficult moments. Then, in our sixth year together, my husband began suffering life-altering medical episodes while still appearing healthy on the outside.
I had to grow up. I had to choose to love him, not simply rely on the fluctuating feelings associated with being in love.
An emergency room doctor’s quick thinking over the phone taught me how to respond during his episodes. What I learned helped save his life at least a dozen times.
A year later, the end came suddenly and tragically. There was no opportunity to go back and correct my mistakes. No chance to revisit the moments when I had been immature or selfish.
After spending enough time blaming myself, I eventually realized something important: he never held those mistakes against me. He had made plenty of his own. We always understood that about each other, even during our worst arguments.
That realization changed how I viewed Queen of Tears. Forgiveness is one of the highest forms of love in action.
I love the song “Way Home,” but because of my own experiences, it is still difficult for me to listen to the final soundtrack without becoming emotional.
—Why is Queen of Tears a treasured story for many
I am certain I am not the only viewer who found pieces of their own life reflected in this drama.
Queen of Tears may contain over-the-top moments, but many viewers accept them because extraordinary moments exist in ordinary lives. We just don’t read about them every day.
In the end, despite its plot holes, detours, and occasional excesses, Queen of Tears succeeds where it matters most.
It reminds us that love is not merely something we feel.
Love is a choice. And it is not for the faint of heart.
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