Park Jin-hai primarily focuses on K-dramas, entertainment shows and actor interviews. Beyond that, she also pens articles covering the broader arts scene, with a particular emphasis on classical music, dance and various aspects of lifestyle. Since joining The Korea Times in 2013, she has made significant contributions in the realms of hallyu (Korean wave), industry news and international affairs.
K-dramas capture today's harsh reality, offer bittersweet escape
Scenes from the JTBC drama "The Dream Life of Mr. Kim," also available on Netflix / Courtesy of JTBC
By Park Jin-hai
Amid a slow job market and deepening sense of social isolation, a wave of Korean dramas that offer emotional solace and fill the void of everyday life are resonating with viewers.
In Korea, the employment rate among people between the ages of 15 and 29 fell to 45.1 percent last month, down 0.7 percentage points from a year earlier and marking a 17-month slide — the longest decline since the global financial crisis in 2008. Some young people have even become involved in voice phishing schemes in Cambodia that promise high earnings, only to end up imprisoned by criminal organizations.
This desperation is also shared with older workers, many of whom experience forced early retirement in their 50s and are leaving major corporations in droves. This stark reality is being dramatized and delivered to viewers through dramas.
JTBC’s “The Dream Life of Mr. Kim,” now available on Netflix, invites viewers into the world of a stereotypical middle-aged corporate manager, Kim Nak-su (Ryu Seung-ryong).
Now in his 25th year as a sales representative, he has never missed a promotion. With a sharp talent for sales, he owns an apartment in Seoul and has sent his son to university — both long‑standing symbols of middle‑class success in Korea. This convinces Kim he has achieved true happiness.
However, his world is more fragile than it seems. At work, younger managers outpace him; at home, his authority fades.
He is torn between the fear of being asked to retire and the burning desire to climb quickly to an executive position. Early in the morning, he sneaks into the managing director’s office, sits in his chair and tries acting like an executive. When his colleague, stuck at the assistant manager level despite working there for decades, is demoted and sent off to Ulleung Island, Kim breathes a sigh of relief and thinks, “Thank goodness it’s not me.”
In one episode, he decides to call his team together for a heart-to-heart talk. But instead of listening to his junior staff, he ends up talking about himself. Even at a family dinner, his one-sided way of speaking leads him to clash with his son, who wants to start his own business.
The series captures the vulnerabilities and bittersweet humor of a man caught between pride and dislocation.
A scene from the tvN drama "Typhoon Family," available on Netflix / Courtesy of CJ ENM
Echoes of financial crisis era
Another ongoing drama, "Typhoon Family," transports viewers to Seoul during the 1997 Asian financial crisis, as a young company president and his employees struggle at a mid-sized firm called Typhoon Trading.
Critics note that both "The Dream Life of Mr. Kim" and "Typhoon Family" resonate with today's audiences because they mirror the economic insecurity and inequality that continue to haunt Korea, three decades later.
"These shows channel the collective sense of helplessness and a closed-off future into forms of fantasy, portraying and compensating for the realities people face today," culture critic Jung Duk-hyun said.
"The Dream Life of Mr. Kim" tells the story of a man who came of age during the Asian financial crisis and is now sitting in a manager’s chair. "Typhoon Family" is a coming-of-age drama about young people trying to survive during the crisis.
"['The Dream Life of Mr. Kim'] is a realistic drama about middle-aged men dissecting the illusion of success, asking themselves whether they’ve truly lived well. Both dramas explore shifts in society and values that have taken place since the Asian financial crisis," Jung said.
“There used to be this idea that a company was a lifelong employer — a company would take care of its people. After the Asian financial crisis, that kind of security simply became impossible.”
Meanwhile, MBC’s "To the Moon," which streams on KOCOWA and is set to conclude this weekend, turns its gaze to women in their 20s and 30s. Since they can't survive on their salaries alone, its main characters plunge into the world of cryptocurrency investment, in a story based on Jang Ryu-jin's novel of the same name.
Jung Da-hae (Lee Sun-bin), who lives in a rundown, leaky studio apartment, dreams that her next coin gain might finally allow her to clear her student loans. The bittersweet depiction of hope and desperation cuts close to home for many viewers.
SBS’ romantic comedy "Would You Marry Me?," available on Disney+, builds realism by tackling housing fraud, seen as an epidemic problem in modern Korea. Its protagonist, Meri (Jung So-min), loses both her fiance and her deposit in a scam, then persuades a man who shares her ex’s name to pose as her husband in order to win a housing lottery for newlyweds. The absurdity of the humor doesn’t soften the sting; instead, it underlines how romance and real estate have become intertwined.
Jung said these dramas reveal today’s deeper issues.
“These stories show that young people’s futures feel completely blocked ... Why do so many turn to crypto or get dragged into overseas scams? It’s because making money through legitimate means has become virtually impossible. In that sense, dramas attempt to compensate for this deprivation. For instance, ‘Typhoon Family’ fills the void by nostalgically portraying an era when ambition and effort could still change one’s fate," Jung said.
Yun Suk-jin, professor of Korean language and literature at Chungnam National University, agrees that these dramas share a sense of hopelessness across genres.
"The characters chase impossible escapes — sudden Bitcoin fortunes or a lucky lottery win — because the idea of slow, steady success has disappeared. Watching these dramas made me think about how, even today, private companies keep shortening the retirement age. People are still being pushed into early or forced retirement. No matter how talented or successful someone is, they have to outdo a colleague just to move up," Yun said.
"It made me wonder how different things really are from the Asian financial crisis years. It feels bitter to realize that after devoting your whole life to your work, once you’re no longer seen as useful, you can be thrown aside like something that’s outlived its purpose.”