1
This review may contain spoilers
When the judge is this sexy, who needs due process?
Ji Sung has always been good, but this drama unlocks something dangerously magnetic in him. I remember him from Kill Me, Heal Me and Protect the Boss — charming, intense, sure — but here, he’s pure smolder. The kind of gaze that could burn through courtroom robes and power suits alike. His Yo Han is the definition of “don’t stand too close, you might catch fire.”
Unfortunately, the women on the so-called “good side” don’t get the same electricity. Su Hyeon and Jin Ju barely register — written like moral wallpaper, existing only to react to men’s turmoil. Meanwhile, Seon A and Cha Gyeong Hui steal every scene they enter. One’s chaos in couture, the other ambition in a tailored suit — and together, they make the “good” women look like extras in their own story.
Narratively, the story is gripping. It asks the right questions: who gets to decide what justice looks like, and at what cost? Can you burn down corruption without becoming the arsonist? You want these monsters punished, but halfway through you realize the heroes are flirting with monstrosity themselves. The writing doesn’t excuse the moral rot; it forces you to look at it and ask, “Would I do the same?” It’s disturbingly satisfying, and that’s exactly why it works.
Then came the last five minutes. Why??? The finale could’ve sealed Kang Yo Han’s tragic brilliance with a full-circle ending — an atonement through death, poetic and earned. Instead, we get a ghostly farewell scene where Yo Han, presumed dead, casually strolls visits Ga On like he’s not the most recognizable face in the country. I’m not saying I’m not happy he’s alive, but if he is, where’s the consequence? Where’s the trial for blowing up a building, even if the occupants were human garbage? The show that questioned moral hypocrisy ends by committing it.
Still, even with that stumble, The Devil Judge delivers a rare blend of emotional tension, ethical chaos, and sheer charisma. It’s a courtroom dystopia that dares to ask who gets to decide what justice really means.
Unfortunately, the women on the so-called “good side” don’t get the same electricity. Su Hyeon and Jin Ju barely register — written like moral wallpaper, existing only to react to men’s turmoil. Meanwhile, Seon A and Cha Gyeong Hui steal every scene they enter. One’s chaos in couture, the other ambition in a tailored suit — and together, they make the “good” women look like extras in their own story.
Narratively, the story is gripping. It asks the right questions: who gets to decide what justice looks like, and at what cost? Can you burn down corruption without becoming the arsonist? You want these monsters punished, but halfway through you realize the heroes are flirting with monstrosity themselves. The writing doesn’t excuse the moral rot; it forces you to look at it and ask, “Would I do the same?” It’s disturbingly satisfying, and that’s exactly why it works.
Then came the last five minutes. Why??? The finale could’ve sealed Kang Yo Han’s tragic brilliance with a full-circle ending — an atonement through death, poetic and earned. Instead, we get a ghostly farewell scene where Yo Han, presumed dead, casually strolls visits Ga On like he’s not the most recognizable face in the country. I’m not saying I’m not happy he’s alive, but if he is, where’s the consequence? Where’s the trial for blowing up a building, even if the occupants were human garbage? The show that questioned moral hypocrisy ends by committing it.
Still, even with that stumble, The Devil Judge delivers a rare blend of emotional tension, ethical chaos, and sheer charisma. It’s a courtroom dystopia that dares to ask who gets to decide what justice really means.
Was this review helpful to you?
