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Copycat May Kill, but Go Hyun Jung Slays
If you tell me a story about a killer mom roped in to catch a copycat, I am already intrigued. Tell me Go Hyun Jung is playing her, and I am clearing my schedule. It is a premise that practically begs to be watched, and one that delivers plenty of curiosity right from the start.
That curiosity carries through the mystery itself, with enough twists to keep the journey engaging. The show knows how to tease out its central puzzle, but at times it asks for a bit too much patience. Tension is often stretched through contrived conflicts or stretches of police incompetence. The directing leans on a Scooby Doo effect where nearly everyone looks suspicious at some point. It did not weaken the suspense for me, though it did make me overthink every odd glance and twitch, chasing shadows the show may not have intended. At the same time, the violin string woven through the score adds an extra shiver of tension, sharp enough to keep you leaning forward.
At the center is the shifting lens on one woman, Jung I Shin. To some she is only a monster, to others a source of warmth, and still a reminder of justice where the system failed. Even those carrying their own scars use her as a mirror, projecting their pain or survival onto her. The word "monster" itself becomes less a truth than a reflection, revealing more about the speaker than about her. The most compelling arc belongs to her estranged son, Cha Su Yeol, who begins in denial and resentment but is gradually forced to confront both the trauma he buried and the truth of who his mother is. Around him are mirrors and counterpoints that challenge his hatred and deepen the story's themes. Some arcs frustrate in how they are written to drive conflicts, but the strongest ones underline the larger questions of inheritance, guilt, and identity. In the end, it is the mother-son bond that holds the story together, carrying both its pain and its humanity.
And then there is Go Hyun Jung. She carries this drama with an extraordinary performance, the kind that commands even the quietest scenes. She can be chilling without raising her voice, show joy or concern with the smallest shift, or find subtle comedy in a wry smile. Her restraint makes her unnerving, her precision makes her compelling, and her presence makes the drama linger even when the writing falters. Because of her strength, everyone else inevitably pales in comparison. I expected excellence the moment she was cast, and she delivered exactly that.
This is not a flawless drama. The plotting is uneven, some of the supporting cast often forgettable or frustrating, and some contrivances will test your patience. Yet its strength lies in how it uses its premise to explore weightier questions of justice, monstrosity, and the burden of the past. It may stumble, but the emotional weight and Go Hyun Jung's brilliance made it well worth watching.
That curiosity carries through the mystery itself, with enough twists to keep the journey engaging. The show knows how to tease out its central puzzle, but at times it asks for a bit too much patience. Tension is often stretched through contrived conflicts or stretches of police incompetence. The directing leans on a Scooby Doo effect where nearly everyone looks suspicious at some point. It did not weaken the suspense for me, though it did make me overthink every odd glance and twitch, chasing shadows the show may not have intended. At the same time, the violin string woven through the score adds an extra shiver of tension, sharp enough to keep you leaning forward.
At the center is the shifting lens on one woman, Jung I Shin. To some she is only a monster, to others a source of warmth, and still a reminder of justice where the system failed. Even those carrying their own scars use her as a mirror, projecting their pain or survival onto her. The word "monster" itself becomes less a truth than a reflection, revealing more about the speaker than about her. The most compelling arc belongs to her estranged son, Cha Su Yeol, who begins in denial and resentment but is gradually forced to confront both the trauma he buried and the truth of who his mother is. Around him are mirrors and counterpoints that challenge his hatred and deepen the story's themes. Some arcs frustrate in how they are written to drive conflicts, but the strongest ones underline the larger questions of inheritance, guilt, and identity. In the end, it is the mother-son bond that holds the story together, carrying both its pain and its humanity.
And then there is Go Hyun Jung. She carries this drama with an extraordinary performance, the kind that commands even the quietest scenes. She can be chilling without raising her voice, show joy or concern with the smallest shift, or find subtle comedy in a wry smile. Her restraint makes her unnerving, her precision makes her compelling, and her presence makes the drama linger even when the writing falters. Because of her strength, everyone else inevitably pales in comparison. I expected excellence the moment she was cast, and she delivered exactly that.
This is not a flawless drama. The plotting is uneven, some of the supporting cast often forgettable or frustrating, and some contrivances will test your patience. Yet its strength lies in how it uses its premise to explore weightier questions of justice, monstrosity, and the burden of the past. It may stumble, but the emotional weight and Go Hyun Jung's brilliance made it well worth watching.
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