Nine Puzzles had the pieces—cast, genre, emotion—but forgot how to build the full picture!
People keep saying that Nine Puzzles is predictable. And having guessed the culprits far earlier than I expected, I won’t contradict that. But as bad as “a predictable thriller” might sound, it honestly doesn’t bother me. For me, a thriller is more than its shock value. Every thriller owes you a story—not just a surprise.At first glance, Nine Puzzles is exactly what one would expect a K-thriller to be—gritty, fast-paced, and emotionally charged. But grit needs to give way to complexities, not chaos; pace should build toward coherence, not convenience; and emotion should facilitate depth and arcs—not just burrows. Nowhere is this more obvious than in the characters driving it.
The female lead in Nine Puzzles is different. She’s traumatised, guarded, locked inside a persona—and doesn’t even really know who she is. Or maybe, she does, but is terrified of who she’ll find if she actually looks. And that’s what made her interesting—she felt like a living metaphor for a kind of sweet, quiet juxtaposition kdramas usually reserve for male characters.
But here’s the thing—a protagonist still needs to feel like a person. And somehow, the drama forgets that. She can’t just know something suddenly because it’s episode nine. Growth isn’t scheduled. It has to make sense.
And the male lead? He doesn’t even have a personality to begin with—let alone something interesting to unravel. Honestly, it’s lucky that the actors are as capable and competent as they are. Without them, Nine Puzzles would’ve crumbled far earlier.
Sadly, that same pattern continues in how Nine Puzzles treats the rest of its cast—and it casts actors who are genuinely well-regarded in the industry. Even the cameos are from big names. But the drama fails to provide these actors with something—anything—to do. No matter how talented you are, you can’t bring to life what was never written. At some point, it stops feeling exciting and starts feeling like flexing. Just having actors exist on screen isn’t enough.
But it’s not like Nine Puzzles is all bad—it has its merits. Ones that I can't seem to remember, no matter how hard I try. But what is unforgettable are the performances. Every actor did a phenomenal job, but for me, Park Gyu Young stole the show. It was my first time watching her in this kind of role, and it only goes to prove the range she possesses. I’d also like to mention Kim Sung Kyun as Team Leader Yang Jeong Ho—he got a meaty role, and sunk his teeth right into it. It was a pleasure to watch him. Which is exactly what, makes the rest of it so frustrating, because performances this good deserved better.
Honestly, I have my fair share of bad Korean thrillers but witnessing something with all this potential crash so hard is disappointing. Nine Puzzles isn’t as substantial or deep and complex as it—or rather its creators—seem to think. Honestly, Nine Puzzles is a perfect example of wasted potential, both in terms of substance and style.
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