The Ending Lost the Stories Purpose
Bulgasal: Immortal Souls is a dark, slow-burn fantasy drama that aims much higher than most genre shows, and for the majority of its runtime, it succeeds. Drawing heavily from Korean folklore, the series builds a grim, moody world centered on immortality, reincarnation, vengeance, and the emotional cost of carrying memory across lifetimes. It’s patient, often intentionally restrained, and clearly more interested in themes and atmosphere than quick payoff.
One of the show’s biggest strengths is its sense of purpose. For most of the series, it knows exactly what it wants to say. Immortality is framed as a curse rather than a gift. Reincarnation is exhausting rather than romantic. The story repeatedly emphasizes cycles; of violence, guilt, and obsession, and how difficult it is to escape them. There’s a heaviness to the show that feels earned, not performative.
Visually, Bulgasal is inconsistent but often effective. The special effects go through noticeable ebbs and flows. Some sequences are haunting and cinematic, especially those tied to folklore and past lives. Others feel undercooked, briefly breaking immersion. That said, the overall aesthetic; dark palettes, slow pacing, and eerie framing, does a lot of the heavy lifting and keeps the tone cohesive even when the effects falter.
The performances are a major asset. The leads carry the emotional weight with restraint, selling centuries of pain and fatigue without excessive exposition. Supporting characters add moments of grounding and humanity that prevent the show from becoming emotionally monotonous, even when the story gets bleak.
Where Bulgasal ultimately stumbles is the ending. It comes incredibly close to being amazing, close enough that the disappointment stings. Rather than concluding in a way that reinforces the themes and lessons the show has been building from the beginning, the finale pivots toward a romance-focused payoff that felt like it never truly got started. The emotional groundwork for that shift simply isn’t there.
The problem isn’t romance itself. It’s that the show spends so long prioritizing ideas about consequence, loss, cyclical suffering, family, and forgiveness, only to set those aside at the finish line in favor of a relationship that was never meaningfully developed and was only hinted at. The result is an ending that feels smaller than the story it’s trying to conclude; less thoughtful, less earned, and oddly disconnected from the show’s own strengths. It’s so close but ends up just unsatisfying.
One of the show’s biggest strengths is its sense of purpose. For most of the series, it knows exactly what it wants to say. Immortality is framed as a curse rather than a gift. Reincarnation is exhausting rather than romantic. The story repeatedly emphasizes cycles; of violence, guilt, and obsession, and how difficult it is to escape them. There’s a heaviness to the show that feels earned, not performative.
Visually, Bulgasal is inconsistent but often effective. The special effects go through noticeable ebbs and flows. Some sequences are haunting and cinematic, especially those tied to folklore and past lives. Others feel undercooked, briefly breaking immersion. That said, the overall aesthetic; dark palettes, slow pacing, and eerie framing, does a lot of the heavy lifting and keeps the tone cohesive even when the effects falter.
The performances are a major asset. The leads carry the emotional weight with restraint, selling centuries of pain and fatigue without excessive exposition. Supporting characters add moments of grounding and humanity that prevent the show from becoming emotionally monotonous, even when the story gets bleak.
Where Bulgasal ultimately stumbles is the ending. It comes incredibly close to being amazing, close enough that the disappointment stings. Rather than concluding in a way that reinforces the themes and lessons the show has been building from the beginning, the finale pivots toward a romance-focused payoff that felt like it never truly got started. The emotional groundwork for that shift simply isn’t there.
The problem isn’t romance itself. It’s that the show spends so long prioritizing ideas about consequence, loss, cyclical suffering, family, and forgiveness, only to set those aside at the finish line in favor of a relationship that was never meaningfully developed and was only hinted at. The result is an ending that feels smaller than the story it’s trying to conclude; less thoughtful, less earned, and oddly disconnected from the show’s own strengths. It’s so close but ends up just unsatisfying.
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