Before Netflix’s The Scandal was released, one question followed the drama almost everywhere:
How explicit will it be?
That curiosity was understandable.
The new eight-episode series is based on the same literary source as the 2003 Korean film Untold Scandal, a movie remembered not only for Lee Mi-sook, Bae Yong-joon and Jeon Do-yeon’s performances, but also for its unusually provocative depiction of desire in a Joseon-era setting.
Netflix’s 2026 version was never trying to avoid that reputation.
The series is rated TV-MA on Netflix, which also describes it as “steamy,” and when director Jung Ji-woo was asked about the adult content before release, his answer was simple: viewers could look forward to it.
Now that all eight episodes are available, however, I think there is a more interesting question than simply counting intimate scenes:
Is the new Scandal actually more sensual than the 2003 movie?
Those are not necessarily the same thing.
Yes, the New Scandal Is Clearly an Adult Drama
Let’s get the obvious part out of the way.
Netflix’s The Scandal does not hide the sexual nature of its story.
This is still a story built around seduction, forbidden desire, manipulation and a dangerous romantic wager.
Lady Cho, played by Son Ye-jin, challenges Jo Won, played by Ji Chang-wook, to seduce Hui-yeon, the widowed woman played by Nana.
Sex isn’t decoration around the story.
Sexual desire is one of the forces moving the story forward.
That was also true of the 2003 movie.
So anyone expecting Netflix to turn Scandal into a conventional, restrained historical romance was probably watching the wrong story from the beginning.
Recent Korean coverage after the full release has continued to emphasize the new series’ adults-only nature and the cast’s willingness to take on more provocative material.
But this is where comparing the two versions becomes interesting.
More Screen Time Changes the Meaning of the Intimate Scenes
The original movie had to move quickly.
It introduced the wager, the seduction and the consequences within the structure of a feature film.
The Netflix remake has eight episodes.
That gives the new version something the film did not have:
time.
Son Ye-jin explained before release that the series contains much more of each character’s story, while Ji Chang-wook said the longer format allows viewers to see how Jo Won became the person he is and where his choices eventually lead him.
That changes the role of sex in the story.
An intimate scene no longer has to carry the entire burden of showing desire.
The series can build desire through conversations, letters, jealousy, resentment, memories and power.
In other words, Netflix can show more.
But it can also spend much longer getting there.
And that creates a strange possibility:
A drama can be more explicit while feeling less immediately erotic.
Explicit and Erotic Are Not the Same Thing
This distinction is important.
You can show more skin.
You can make a scene longer.
You can receive an adults-only rating.
None of those things automatically creates stronger sexual tension.
Eroticism often depends on what happens before two characters touch.
A glance held slightly too long.
Someone moving too close.
A sentence that means something different from what it says.
A person wanting something they know they should not want.
And Scandal is especially dependent on that kind of tension because seduction is really a form of power in this story.
Jo Won isn’t merely pursuing Hui-yeon.
He begins by trying to prove that he can seduce her.
Lady Cho isn’t merely watching.
She created the game.
And Hui-yeon doesn’t initially know that she has become part of one.
So the most important question isn’t:
How much does Netflix show?
It’s:
How dangerous does the desire feel?
The 2003 Movie Had One Major Advantage: Compression
This may explain why some viewers still remember the original film as particularly sensual.
A movie compresses everything.
Attraction accelerates.
Danger arrives quickly.
The characters have less room to breathe.
That can create intensity.
The Netflix series deliberately chooses something else.
Director Jung Ji-woo said he began again from Dangerous Liaisons rather than simply reproducing the 2003 film, rewriting the three central characters and substantially expanding the relationship between Lady Cho and Hui-yeon.
So the remake isn’t simply:
the old movie + more sex + eight episodes.
It changes the psychological structure around those scenes.
That may make the characters richer for some viewers.
For others, it may reduce the dangerous speed that made the movie so memorable.
Son Ye-jin’s Lady Cho Changes the Temperature
This difference becomes especially obvious with Lady Cho.
The role carries enormous sexual power.
But Lady Cho doesn’t need to constantly express that power physically.
Her real weapon is control.
She understands Jo Won.
She understands society.
She understands desire.
And she knows how to use one person against another.
Son Ye-jin described the role as particularly attractive because the story explores human desire inside a society where those desires—especially a woman’s—were heavily restricted.
That makes her sexuality inseparable from something else:
frustration.
Lady Cho has intelligence and ambition.
But she lives in a world that limits what she is allowed to do with them.
The sexual game therefore becomes more than entertainment.
It is one of the spaces in which she can exercise power.
That gives the adult material a different meaning from simply making the drama “hotter.”
Ji Chang-wook’s Jo Won Is Also Not Just Bae Yong-joon 2.0
The same problem appears when comparing the two Jo Wons.
Ji Chang-wook openly acknowledged that Bae Yong-joon’s performance remained in his memory.
But he also said their interpretations were too different for imitation to be useful, so he worked with Jung to create his own version.
The eight-episode structure gives this Jo Won more psychological space.
We see more of where he comes from.
We see more of his relationship with Lady Cho.
And the seduction of Hui-yeon gradually becomes something more dangerous than the game he thought he was playing.
That matters because Jo Won’s sexuality is supposed to begin as something he controls.
Then desire starts controlling him.
The transformation is more important than any single intimate scene.
Nana’s Hui-yeon Has the Hardest Job
Hui-yeon may actually be the character on whom the entire erotic structure depends.
She cannot begin at the same emotional temperature as Jo Won and Lady Cho.
If she did, the wager would mean nothing.
She is a widow living under social restrictions.
Her resistance is essential.
Because Jo Won’s game only works if there is something difficult to break through.
Nana said before release that this role allowed her to show a side of herself she had not previously presented, while the released drama has drawn attention precisely because it asks her to move away from the strong, modern image many viewers associate with her.
So Hui-yeon’s intimate scenes matter most when we understand the transformation that precedes them.
What happens when repression becomes curiosity?
When curiosity becomes attraction?
And when attraction becomes something she can no longer control?
Without that progression, explicitness is just explicitness.
With it, the scenes become part of the tragedy.
Why the 2003 Version May Still Feel More Dangerous to Some Viewers
This is where nostalgia isn’t the only explanation.
The original movie had less time.
That limitation may actually have helped it.
Everything felt closer together:
the wager,
the seduction,
the betrayal,
the consequences.
The Netflix series expands the characters and their relationships deliberately; its creators repeatedly emphasized that this was one of the major differences from the film.
But expansion always comes with a trade-off.
More explanation can create more understanding.
Less explanation can create more mystery.
And mystery is often extremely useful in an erotic story.
The audience starts filling in the empty spaces themselves.
Sometimes what isn’t shown—or isn’t explained—creates more tension than what is.
So Which Version Is More Explicit?
There isn’t a useful answer based simply on counting scenes.
Both versions are adult works, and Netflix clearly did not sanitize the material. The 2026 series carries a TV-MA rating and openly presents itself as a steamy period drama.
But I think the more useful distinction is this:
The Netflix series has more room to explore sexuality.
The 2003 film had less room—and therefore more compression.
One emphasizes the psychology surrounding desire.
The other could hit viewers with that desire more quickly.
That is why someone can watch the new series and think:
“This is definitely explicit.”
And still remember the old movie as:
“That felt more erotic.”
Both reactions can make sense.
The Real Question Was Never How Much Netflix Would Show
Before release, everyone wanted to know the “level” of Scandal.
Would Son Ye-jin go that far?
Would Ji Chang-wook?
Would Nana?
Would Netflix make it more provocative than the movie?
Now that the series is here, I think those questions miss what makes Scandal interesting.
The story isn’t fundamentally about sex.
It is about people who believe they can control desire.
Lady Cho thinks she can use it.
Jo Won thinks he can manufacture it.
Hui-yeon thinks she can resist it.
And eventually, desire stops obeying all three of them.
That is where Scandal becomes dangerous.
Not when someone removes their clothes.
When the game stops being a game.
Comparing the two versions of The Scandal involves more than counting explicit scenes. Changes in storytelling, character relationships, and visual presentation can also shape how audiences experience the same material. To understand the bigger picture, explore how Netflix’s The Scandal differs from the 2003 film Untold Scandal and see how the adaptation approaches its familiar story in a new way.