True Taste Korea

Untold Scandal

  • Are Korean and International Viewers Comparing The Scandal to Two Different Originals? | The Scandal Deep Dive #3

    Spoilers for Netflix’s The Scandal and the 2003 film Untold Scandal.

    Why are reactions to Netflix’s The Scandal so difficult to summarize?

    It would be easy to say that Korean viewers are more critical while international viewers are more positive.

    But that explanation may be too simple.

    Because there is another possibility:

    They may not be comparing the same things.

    For many Korean viewers, the obvious reference point is the 2003 film Untold Scandal.

    For international viewers familiar with the story, Netflix’s series may instead sit inside a much larger family of Dangerous Liaisons adaptations.

    That difference sounds small.

    It isn’t.

    Because the moment you change the work you are comparing The Scandal against, you also change the question you ask while watching it.

    Korean Viewers Have a Ghost Sitting Beside Them

    For many Korean viewers, Netflix’s The Scandal does not begin with a blank screen.

    The 2003 film is already there.

    Untold Scandal, starring Lee Mi-sook, Bae Yong-joon and Jeon Do-yeon, took the basic structure of Pierre Choderlos de Laclos’s Les Liaisons dangereuses and moved it into Joseon Korea.

    More than two decades later, Netflix has returned to essentially the same territory.

    That makes comparison almost unavoidable.

    True Taste Korea’s earlier article on Korean reactions found exactly this pattern: viewers repeatedly compared the eight-episode series with the 2003 film, particularly its pacing, sensuality, performances and character development. 트루테이스트코리아

    So when a Korean viewer watches Son Ye-jin as Lady Cho, the question may not simply be:

    “Is Lady Cho an interesting character?”

    It can become:

    “How does Son Ye-jin’s Lady Cho compare with Lee Mi-sook’s version?”

    When NANA appears as Hui-yeon:

    “Does this Hui-yeon work?”

    can quickly become:

    “How does she compare with Jeon Do-yeon?”

    And when an eight-episode drama unfolds slowly:

    “Is this pacing effective?”

    can become:

    “Why does this feel less concentrated than the movie?”

    The 2003 film becomes an invisible measuring stick.

    But The Scandal Has Another Family Tree

    International viewers can approach the series from a completely different direction.

    The story did not begin with the 2003 Korean movie.

    Both Untold Scandal and Netflix’s The Scandal belong to the much larger adaptation history of Les Liaisons dangereuses, the 1782 French novel commonly known in English as Dangerous Liaisons. 트루테이스트코리아

    That story has been reinvented repeatedly.

    Different periods.

    Different countries.

    Different social classes.

    Different attitudes toward sex.

    Different relationships between the central characters.

    Even Cruel Intentions transplanted the same basic DNA into wealthy modern American youth culture. 트루테이스트코리아

    Once you see The Scandal as part of that tradition, the question changes.

    Instead of asking:

    “Is Netflix as good as the 2003 Korean movie?”

    you can ask:

    “What does this version do with Dangerous Liaisons that another adaptation could not?”

    That is a very different test.

    One Comparison Rewards Fidelity. The Other Rewards Reinvention.

    This may be the key.

    When a beloved previous adaptation is your main reference point, differences can easily feel like losses.

    The movie had concentrated tension.

    The series is longer.

    The movie’s characters felt mysterious.

    The series explains them.

    The movie created sensuality through compression and suggestion.

    The series spends much more time exploring motivation and backstory.

    None of those changes is automatically good or bad.

    But if Untold Scandal is your benchmark, every alteration naturally raises the question:

    Was this change worth making?

    Now change the benchmark.

    Imagine approaching Netflix’s series primarily as another reinterpretation of Dangerous Liaisons.

    Suddenly, changing the characters is not necessarily a deviation.

    Changing them is the point.

    Adaptation becomes less about reproducing an earlier Korean movie and more about asking what this centuries-old story looks like when interpreted again through Joseon society for a global streaming audience.

    This Is Where Joseon Becomes More Than Decoration

    This difference becomes especially important when looking at the women.

    Dangerous Liaisons is fundamentally interested in sex, power, reputation and manipulation among privileged people.

    But moving that structure into Joseon changes what those things mean.

    Lady Cho can be wealthy, intelligent and socially powerful while still living inside restrictions imposed on women.

    Hui-yeon’s chastity is not merely a personal preference.

    Her status as a widow places desire inside a larger system of reputation, family and social expectation.

    An earlier True Taste Korea article looked at precisely this historical contradiction: elite Joseon women could possess status while facing sexual and social rules dramatically different from those governing men. 트루테이스트코리아

    That means The Scandal can be watched in two ways.

    One viewer sees:

    a less concentrated version of Untold Scandal.

    Another sees:

    a new experiment using the Dangerous Liaisons structure to explore gender and agency in Joseon.

    They are watching the same scenes.

    But they are asking different questions.

    Lady Cho Is Where the Difference Becomes Clearest

    Consider Lady Cho.

    If Lee Mi-sook’s 2003 performance is the benchmark, Son Ye-jin inevitably enters a competition she did not create.

    Which Lady Cho is more sensual?

    More dangerous?

    More mysterious?

    More commanding?

    But if the benchmark becomes the broader Dangerous Liaisons tradition, another question appears:

    What kind of power can a woman like Lady Cho actually possess in this particular society?

    Netflix spends considerably more time answering that.

    Her intelligence does not give her complete freedom.

    Her social position does not erase the limitations of gender.

    So manipulation becomes one of the few spaces in which she can exercise control.

    That makes Lady Cho not merely a seductress or strategist, but a specifically Joseon reinterpretation of a much older archetype.

    Whether viewers find that richer or less exciting is another question.

    But the comparison itself has changed.

    The Same Thing Happens to Cho Won

    Cho Won can also look weaker if measured primarily against the concentrated confidence of the 2003 film.

    Netflix gives us more of his wounds.

    More of his attachment to Lady Cho.

    More explanation for the man beneath the seducer.

    As we discussed in Deep Dive #2, that can make him feel less like a completely formed libertine and more like an emotionally unfinished person.

    But again, another reading is possible.

    If this is not primarily an attempt to recreate Bae Yong-joon’s interpretation, then Netflix is free to ask:

    What would make this particular Cho Won become a man who turns seduction into a way of life?

    The series is not merely changing his behavior.

    It is changing the question surrounding him.

    And This Explains a Strange Thing About Remakes

    Two viewers can agree completely about what changed and still disagree about whether the change works.

    One says:

    The movie was tighter.

    Another says:

    The series gave the characters more context.

    Both can be right.

    One says:

    The original felt more sensual.

    Another says:

    The new version explores the women more deeply.

    Again, both observations can coexist.

    The disagreement begins when we ask what an adaptation is supposed to preserve.

    Is its job to reproduce what worked before?

    Or is its job to discover something the previous adaptation did not explore?

    Netflix’s director Jung Ji-woo has explicitly described the new version as substantially different from the 2003 film rather than simply an expanded copy. 트루테이스트코리아

    That makes the second question particularly important.

    Maybe “Korean vs International Reaction” Is the Wrong Debate

    This is why reducing the response to:

    “Koreans disliked it, foreigners liked it”

    does not tell us very much.

    Korean reaction itself is divided. Some viewers appreciate the expanded characterization and performances; others think the longer format weakened the tension. 트루테이스트코리아

    International reaction is not uniform either.

    The more interesting divide may therefore have less to do with nationality than with adaptation memory.

    What version lives in your head before Episode 1 begins?

    If you know and love Untold Scandal, Netflix has to compete with a specific movie.

    If you know Dangerous Liaisons, Cruel Intentions or another adaptation, Netflix becomes one more transformation of an endlessly adaptable story.

    And if you know none of them?

    Then something even stranger happens.

    Netflix’s The Scandal becomes your original.

    That Viewer May Have the Most Different Experience of All

    A first-time viewer does not know what was changed.

    They do not know which character used to be colder.

    They do not know which scene was added.

    They do not know whether the 2003 version moved faster.

    They are not waiting for Jeon Do-yeon’s Hui-yeon.

    They are not comparing Son Ye-jin with Lee Mi-sook.

    For them, there is no adaptation problem.

    There is only the drama in front of them.

    And that may explain why discussions of The Scandal can sometimes sound as if people watched completely different shows.

    In a sense, they did.

    One watched a remake of a Korean classic.

    Another watched the latest Dangerous Liaisons adaptation.

    Another simply watched a new Netflix K-drama.

    So What Is Netflix’s The Scandal Actually Competing With?

    That depends on who is watching.

    For one audience, it is competing with memory.

    For another, it is competing with an adaptation tradition.

    For another, it is competing only with the next show on Netflix.

    And those three viewers are unlikely to judge the series in exactly the same way.

    That may be the most useful way to understand the debate surrounding The Scandal.

    The disagreement is not simply about whether the series is good.

    It begins one step earlier.

    Viewers cannot agree on what Netflix’s The Scandal should be compared to in the first place.

    And if the starting point is different, the final judgment was probably never going to be the same.

    The divide between Korean and international viewers may have as much to do with expectations as with the series itself. Audiences familiar with the 2003 Korean film may notice different changes from those who know the story through other adaptations. Explore how Netflix’s The Scandal differs from the 2003 film Untold Scandal to understand why the same adaptation can inspire such different reactions.

  • The 2003 Cast Was Younger — So Why Does Netflix’s The Scandal Feel Younger? | The Scandal Deep Dive #2

    Spoilers for Netflix’s The Scandal and the 2003 film Untold Scandal.

    There is a strange paradox at the center of Netflix’s The Scandal.

    Watch the 2003 Korean film Untold Scandal, and its central characters can feel like dangerous adults playing a game they understand far too well.

    Watch Netflix’s 2026 adaptation, and the characters can sometimes feel younger.

    More impulsive.

    More emotionally exposed.

    At times, even more like people still trying to understand what love and desire mean.

    Here is the strange part:

    That difference cannot simply be explained by the actors’ ages.

    In fact, one Korean review raised exactly the opposite observation: the newer cast was not simply a younger replacement for the 2003 trio, yet the original film could still feel more mature and dangerous.

    So what changed?

    Maybe the answer has very little to do with age.

    Maybe The Scandal changed what kind of adults these characters are allowed to be.

    The 2003 Film Feels Like a Game Between Adults

    One of the most striking qualities of Untold Scandal is its confidence.

    Its characters already seem to understand the world they inhabit.

    They understand sex.

    They understand reputation.

    They understand manipulation.

    Most importantly, they understand that desire can be used as power.

    That gives the movie a particular kind of danger.

    When its characters flirt, the audience rarely feels as if they are discovering attraction for the first time.

    They feel like experienced players moving pieces across a board.

    The erotic tension comes partly from that certainty.

    These people know what they are doing.

    Or at least they believe they do.

    That makes the eventual loss of control more powerful.

    Netflix Gives Us Something Different

    The 2026 Scandal spends considerably more time explaining its characters.

    That was intentional.

    Director Jung Ji-woo has said the Netflix series was not designed simply as an expanded remake of Untold Scandal. The production returned to Dangerous Liaisons and rewrote the characters and relationships for the new adaptation. 트루테이스트코리아

    That decision changes the emotional texture of the story.

    Lady Cho is not simply mysterious and calculating.

    We are invited to understand her frustration.

    Cho Won is not simply a master seducer.

    We see more of his emotional dependence on Lady Cho.

    Hui-yeon is not simply the virtuous widow who becomes the object of a wager.

    The series spends more time showing the social and psychological prison surrounding her.

    That gives the characters more explanation.

    But explanation does something unexpected.

    It can make powerful adults look emotionally younger.

    Mystery Makes Characters Feel Older

    This sounds contradictory, but consider the difference.

    Imagine a character enters a room, looks at another person and makes a dangerous proposition.

    We know almost nothing about why.

    The character appears controlled.

    Experienced.

    Possibly frightening.

    Now imagine the same scene after we have watched that character’s childhood, disappointments, romantic wounds and private insecurities.

    The action may become more understandable.

    But the character also becomes more vulnerable.

    We see the wound underneath the confidence.

    That is one of the biggest differences between the two Scandals.

    The 2003 movie has less time to explain everyone.

    That limitation creates mystery.

    Netflix has eight episodes.

    It can explain much more.

    And once the audience understands why someone behaves badly, that person may stop feeling like an unknowable adult predator and start feeling like a wounded human being.

    Cho Won May Be the Clearest Example

    On paper, Cho Won should be the most obviously mature figure in the story.

    He is notorious for seduction.

    Women are not mysterious territory to him.

    He enters Lady Cho’s wager believing he understands exactly how desire works.

    But Netflix’s Cho Won contains another person underneath the playboy.

    A man who has never really escaped Lady Cho.

    The series’ flashbacks and expanded relationship make that attachment much more visible.

    One existing True Taste Korea analysis explored whether Lady Cho’s influence over Cho Won goes so deep that even the language of emotional grooming enters the viewer debate. The drama never definitively labels the relationship that way, but the debate itself reveals how dependent this supposedly free playboy can appear. 트루테이스트코리아

    That matters.

    The more we see Cho Won’s unresolved attachment, the less he resembles a fully self-contained libertine.

    His endless affairs can begin to look less like proof of maturity and more like attempts to fill something that was never resolved.

    Suddenly, Joseon’s legendary playboy looks emotionally stuck.

    And emotionally stuck characters often feel younger than their chronological age.

    Lady Cho Changes Even More

    The same thing happens with Lady Cho.

    On the surface, she may be the most powerful person in the drama.

    Cho Won performs the seductions.

    Lady Cho designs the game.

    An earlier analysis on this site explored precisely that contradiction: Cho Won possesses more social freedom, while Lady Cho compensates by becoming more strategic. 트루테이스트코리아

    But Netflix also shows us the cost of that strategy.

    Lady Cho is not merely manipulating people because she is bored.

    She is intelligent, ambitious and emotionally constrained inside a society that gives her few legitimate ways to exercise either power or desire.

    Once we see that frustration, her cruelty changes shape.

    She becomes understandable.

    Perhaps even sympathetic at moments.

    But she also becomes emotionally exposed.

    The mysterious woman controlling the game becomes a woman who still wants something she cannot have.

    Again, the character becomes deeper.

    But paradoxically, she may also feel younger.

    This May Explain Why “More Explicit” Does Not Mean “More Mature”

    Netflix’s The Scandal is clearly an adult drama.

    It contains sexual relationships, nudity, manipulation, betrayal and an explicitly erotic premise.

    But sexual explicitness and emotional maturity are not the same thing.

    True Taste Korea previously compared the Netflix adaptation with the 2003 film and found the more useful question was not simply which version showed more, but which version created more sensual tension. 트루테이스트코리아

    The same distinction applies here.

    A drama can show more sex while its characters feel less worldly.

    It can explain more desire while making desire feel less mysterious.

    It can give adults more screen time while making their emotional wounds more visible.

    That may be exactly what happened.

    The Dialogue May Matter Too

    There is another possible reason.

    The Netflix series often gives its characters a softer, more emotionally accessible rhythm than the 2003 film.

    For some viewers, the refined Joseon-style dialogue sounds elegant.

    For others, the contrast between formal language and openly expressed emotion can feel unexpectedly youthful.

    The characters talk about longing.

    They hesitate.

    They become hurt.

    They reveal insecurity.

    They behave, at times, less like people confidently playing an erotic game and more like people discovering that the game has exposed feelings they do not know how to manage.

    That is not necessarily a flaw.

    But it creates a very different atmosphere.

    The 2003 film often asks:

    Who will lose control first?

    The Netflix series spends more time asking:

    Why are these people unable to control themselves in the first place?

    Those are not the same story.

    Hui-yeon Makes the Contrast Even Stronger

    Hui-yeon is naturally the least experienced member of the triangle.

    She does not enter the story as a player.

    She becomes someone else’s target.

    True Taste Korea’s earlier Hui-yeon analysis noted that her hesitation is tied to much more than deciding whether she likes Cho Won. Desire threatens the identity of the virtuous widow that her society expects her to maintain. 트루테이스트코리아

    So Hui-yeon is supposed to be emotionally uncertain.

    The interesting part is what happens when Lady Cho and Cho Won are also rewritten as emotionally wounded people.

    The contrast between innocent target and experienced manipulators becomes smaller.

    Instead of:

    two dangerous adults versus one vulnerable woman,

    Netflix increasingly gives us:

    three damaged people trapped inside different forms of desire.

    That changes everything.

    Maybe Netflix Didn’t Make The Scandal Younger

    Perhaps “younger” is not quite the right word.

    Maybe Netflix made the characters less emotionally finished.

    The 2003 characters often appear to arrive on screen already formed.

    Their desires exist before the movie begins.

    Their experience is assumed.

    Their secrets remain partly hidden.

    Netflix opens those characters up.

    We see where the wounds came from.

    We see why Cho Won cannot escape Lady Cho.

    We see why Lady Cho needs control.

    We see why Hui-yeon is terrified of wanting another life.

    The result is more psychological explanation but less distance between the characters and the audience.

    And distance matters.

    Because distance creates mystery.

    Mystery creates sophistication.

    And sophistication can make a character feel older than any number on a birth certificate.

    So Why Does the Older Cast Sometimes Feel Younger?

    Not because they look younger.

    Not because the Netflix series accidentally turned The Scandal into a youth romance.

    And not simply because the 2003 film was “better.”

    The two adaptations use adulthood differently.

    Untold Scandal often presents adulthood as experience.

    These people know desire and weaponize it.

    Netflix’s The Scandal presents adulthood more as damage.

    These people have lived longer, but they still carry desires and wounds they have never resolved.

    One version hides the wounds behind elegance.

    The other opens them up and asks us to look inside.

    That creates the paradox.

    The newer actors can be older while their characters feel emotionally younger — because Netflix lets us see the unfinished people hiding beneath the adults.

    And perhaps that is the real difference between the two adaptations.

    The 2003 film makes us watch dangerous adults lose control.

    Netflix asks us why they never truly had control to begin with.

    The difference between the two versions of The Scandal is not simply a matter of the actors’ ages. Changes in characterization, emotional vulnerability, and the way relationships unfold can make familiar characters feel surprisingly different. Explore how Netflix’s The Scandal compares with the 2003 film Untold Scandal to see how the adaptation reshapes the story beyond its casting choices.

  • Why Does Hui-yeon Fall for Cho Won So Suddenly? | The Scandal Deep Dive #1

    Spoilers for Netflix’s The Scandal.

    There is a strange problem at the emotional center of The Scandal.

    The series gives Hui-yeon and Cho Won more screen time than a feature film could ever afford them.

    They meet. He pursues her. She resists him. He waits for her. She begins to trust him. Eventually, the relationship becomes serious enough to change both of their lives.

    Netflix’s own episode descriptions make that progression explicit: Cho Won approaches Hui-yeon in Episode 3, his façade begins to fade in Episode 4, their relationship “deepens” in Episode 5, and by Episode 7 they are spending time together away from the public eye. Netflix

    And yet for some viewers, something still feels missing.

    The question is not simply:

    Why does Hui-yeon love Cho Won?

    The more interesting question is:

    Why does a romance given so much screen time sometimes feel as if it happened too quickly?

    That may reveal one of the most interesting consequences of how Netflix’s The Scandal rewrote its three central characters.

    Hui-yeon Has Every Reason NOT to Fall in Love

    Hui-yeon is not simply a shy woman waiting for romance.

    She is a widow who has built her identity around restraint.

    Netflix originally described her as a woman who vowed to remain chaste after her husband’s death, only to become conflicted by her growing attraction to Cho Won. About Netflix

    That makes Cho Won dangerous to her in a way that goes far beyond romance.

    For Cho Won, seduction initially begins as a game.

    For Hui-yeon, accepting desire means questioning the moral identity she has been expected to preserve.

    That conflict was already central to our earlier discussion of why viewers reacted so differently to NANA’s Hui-yeon.

    But the Deep Dive question begins one step later.

    If Hui-yeon’s resistance carries this much weight, then the moment when resistance becomes love needs to carry just as much weight.

    And this is where the drama becomes complicated.

    We See the Obstacles More Clearly Than We See the Love

    The series spends considerable time showing us why Hui-yeon should resist Cho Won.

    We understand her grief.

    We understand her fear.

    We understand the social expectations surrounding her.

    We understand that Cho Won entered her life with dishonest intentions.

    We even understand why his attention could awaken something Hui-yeon has tried to suppress.

    But understanding why someone becomes vulnerable to love is not quite the same thing as watching that love develop.

    There is an important difference between:

    “I finally want to live.”

    and:

    “I love this particular person.”

    Cho Won can represent escape, desire, freedom and the possibility of another life.

    But those things do not automatically explain why Cho Won himself becomes irreplaceable to Hui-yeon.

    That emotional bridge may be where some viewers feel the adaptation moves too quickly.

    The Strange Part: The Series Had More Time

    That is what makes this especially interesting.

    A movie can use compression as an excuse.

    A glance can become attraction.

    Attraction can become surrender.

    Surrender can become tragedy.

    Everything has to move quickly.

    An eight-episode series has the opposite advantage.

    It can show the tiny moments that transform curiosity into trust, trust into desire, and desire into love.

    Netflix itself describes The Scandal as a dangerous game involving three people whose fates become intertwined through a wager. About Netflix

    So where did all that extra time go?

    A possible answer is sitting right beside Hui-yeon.

    Lady Cho.

    Netflix Made Lady Cho Much Harder to Ignore

    Lady Cho is not merely the person who starts the wager.

    The Netflix version spends significant emotional energy explaining her.

    Her frustration.

    Her intelligence.

    Her marriage.

    Her lack of freedom.

    Her relationship with Cho Won.

    The history behind that relationship.

    The contradiction between the power she appears to possess and the restrictions she actually lives under.

    This makes Lady Cho richer.

    But adaptations have a hidden economy:

    Every minute spent deepening one relationship is a minute that cannot be spent deepening another.

    And one of the most interesting criticisms found in discussion around the series is that the adaptation may have made Lady Cho more understandable while leaving less emotional space for Hui-yeon and Cho Won.

    That does not mean Lady Cho received “too much” story.

    It means the series may have changed its emotional center.

    Maybe This Is Why NANA Became the Easy Target

    A lot of discussion about Hui-yeon quickly becomes discussion about NANA.

    Was she convincing?

    Was she too restrained?

    Did she fit the role?

    Those are legitimate performance questions.

    But they can also hide a more fundamental writing question:

    What exactly was the actor given to play between resistance and love?

    Hui-yeon can lower her eyes.

    She can hesitate.

    She can cry.

    She can slowly allow Cho Won closer.

    NANA can communicate all of those changes.

    But an actor cannot create scenes that the screenplay never gives the character.

    If viewers understand Hui-yeon’s fear more clearly than they understand the specific accumulation of reasons she falls in love with Cho Won, then part of the problem may exist before performance even begins.

    That would explain something important about the divided reaction to Hui-yeon.

    Some viewers see restraint.

    Others see emptiness.

    They may be responding not only to the acting, but to how much emotional information the screenplay provides.

    But There Is Another Interpretation

    There is a fascinating counterargument.

    What if Hui-yeon and Cho Won are not supposed to function as a conventional romance?

    One viewer interpretation in the discussion surrounding the drama reads Hui-yeon almost as an echo of Cho Won himself: another person trapped by social expectations, abandonment and a life chosen by other people.

    Under that reading, Cho Won may initially connect with Hui-yeon not because she replaces Lady Cho, but because he recognizes something of himself in her. The same discussion even questions whether Netflix’s Cho Won ever fully escapes his attachment to Lady Cho. 붙여넣은 텍스트(2)

    That changes the romance considerably.

    Perhaps Cho Won is not simply rescuing the woman he loves.

    Perhaps he is trying to rescue someone from the kind of emotional prison he was never able to escape himself.

    And perhaps Hui-yeon is responding not simply to seduction, but to the first person who gives her permission to imagine that she does not have to die inside the role society has prepared for her.

    If so, their relationship is more psychologically interesting than it first appears.

    But it also creates a new problem.

    The audience has to infer much of it.

    Maybe the Missing Romance Is Actually the Point

    This leads to two very different readings of The Scandal.

    The first is critical:

    The series expanded Lady Cho so much that Hui-yeon and Cho Won lost some of the emotional development their romance needed.

    The second is more generous:

    The relationship is intentionally less conventional because Hui-yeon and Cho Won are not simply two people falling in love. They are two people recognizing different forms of captivity in each other.

    The drama itself gives evidence for both readings.

    Netflix describes Cho Won’s façade as beginning to disappear as he pursues Hui-yeon, and later describes him as overwhelmed by complicated emotions as their relationship deepens. Netflix

    So the series clearly wants us to believe that something genuine changes.

    The debate is over whether we feel enough of that change happening.

    And that distinction matters.

    A plot can tell us two people fell in love.

    A romance has to make us feel when it happened.

    The Real Question Isn’t Whether Hui-yeon Loved Him

    By the end, asking whether Hui-yeon developed genuine feelings for Cho Won may be too simple.

    The more revealing question is why some viewers still need to ask how those feelings became so powerful.

    That may be one of The Scandal’s central adaptation paradoxes.

    It had more time than the 2003 film.

    It had more room for backstory.

    More room for social context.

    More room for Lady Cho.

    More room for Hui-yeon.

    More room for Cho Won.

    Yet more time does not automatically create more emotional depth.

    Sometimes a romance becomes convincing not because we spend more minutes with two characters, but because we witness the precise moments when one person becomes necessary to the other.

    And in Netflix’s The Scandal, those may be the moments some viewers were still searching for after the final episode.

    Hui-yeon’s sudden feelings for Cho Won raise another important question: was the affection between them truly mutual, or were they experiencing the same relationship in completely different ways? Her emotional vulnerability becomes even more revealing when we examine Cho Won’s motivations. Explore whether Jo-won truly loved Hee-yeon in The Scandal for a deeper look at the emotions and contradictions behind their romance.

  • Netflix’s The Scandal vs the 2003 Movie: Why Are Korean Viewers So Divided?

    Netflix’s The Scandal has created an unusual argument among Korean viewers.

    Some say the 2003 film Untold Scandal was far better.

    Others prefer the Netflix series.

    And some believe comparing them directly is almost impossible.

    They share the same basic story, so why do they feel so different?

    The answer may be simple:

    They are telling the same scandal—but they are not trying to tell it in the same way.

    The 2003 Movie Is Still a Powerful Memory

    For many Korean viewers, Untold Scandal is not just an older version of the story.

    It is the version they remember.

    The film starred Lee Mi-sook, Bae Yong-joon and Jeon Do-yeon, and its performances became strongly associated with these characters.

    That creates a difficult situation for the Netflix adaptation.

    Every new actor is competing not only with another performance, but with more than 20 years of audience memory.

    Son Ye-jin is compared with Lee Mi-sook.

    Ji Chang-wook is compared with Bae Yong-joon.

    NANA is compared with Jeon Do-yeon.

    For viewers who loved the film, the new version has to overcome nostalgia before its own story even begins.

    But Six Episodes Can Do Something a Movie Cannot

    A movie has limited time.

    It must establish the characters, seduction, betrayal and tragedy quickly.

    A series can slow down.

    That difference matters enormously.

    Some Korean viewers who preferred the Netflix version specifically praised the additional emotional development.

    The relationships have more time to change.

    Characters can hesitate.

    Past experiences can influence decisions.

    And Jo-won’s complicated connection with Lady Cho can receive more attention.

    That does not automatically make the series better.

    But it does make it different.

    The movie has to move. The series has time to ask why.

    The Two Versions Also Create Different Characters

    This may explain why discussions about Jo-won and Hee-yeon are so divided.

    In a more compressed story, their relationship can be read more clearly as seduction turning into genuine love.

    The Netflix version leaves more room for another interpretation.

    Does Jo-won love Hee-yeon?

    Does he pity her?

    Or does he recognize his own trapped life in hers?

    The longer format creates space for those questions—but it can also frustrate viewers who want clearer emotional answers.

    The same extra complexity that one viewer calls “depth” can feel like uncertainty to another.

    Casting Changes the Story Too

    Casting is not simply about replacing one actor with another.

    A different actor changes how audiences understand a character.

    The 2003 film and Netflix series therefore cannot produce exactly the same emotional effect.

    This is especially obvious with Hee-yeon.

    Some Korean viewers strongly preferred Jeon Do-yeon’s interpretation, while others accepted NANA as a different version of the character.

    That debate reveals an important point:

    An adaptation does not only inherit a story. It inherits the audience’s memory of the actors who told it before.

    Maybe “Which One Is Better?” Is the Wrong Question

    One viewer made an especially useful observation: comparing a movie and a television series directly may not be entirely fair.

    The formats demand different things.

    The film can concentrate its power into a shorter, more intense experience.

    The Netflix series can spend more time exploring motivations and emotional history.

    One may feel sharper.

    The other may feel deeper.

    And different viewers will naturally value different things.

    That may be why Korean reactions seem so contradictory.

    Some viewers returned to the 2003 film after watching Netflix and still preferred it.

    Others said the new drama made the characters easier to understand.

    Some even felt the newer casting worked better for them.

    None of those reactions is surprising.

    The Real Competition May Be Memory vs Reinterpretation

    More than two decades separate the two adaptations.

    Korean drama has changed.

    Netflix has changed how Korean stories reach international audiences.

    And viewers themselves have changed.

    So Netflix’s The Scandal is competing with something almost impossible to defeat:

    memory.

    For viewers who remember Untold Scandal, every familiar scene carries an older image beside it.

    For viewers discovering the story for the first time, that comparison may not exist at all.

    Perhaps that is the most interesting difference between the two versions.

    They may share the same source and the same scandal.

    But they are being watched by two very different audiences in two very different eras.

    And that may be why the argument over which version works better is unlikely to disappear anytime soon.

  • Is Netflix’s Scandal More Explicit Than the 2003 Movie?

    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.

  • Why Are Korean Viewers So Divided Over Netflix’s Scandal?

    Netflix’s new Korean historical drama Scandal had no trouble getting attention.

    The eight-episode series, starring Son Ye-jin, Ji Chang-wook and Nana, was released in full on September 18.

    Just one day later, it reached No. 1 on Netflix’s daily Top 10 series chart in South Korea.

    That sounds like an immediate success.

    But popularity and agreement are two very different things.

    Once Korean viewers actually started watching all eight episodes, reactions became surprisingly divided.

    Some praised the drama’s beautiful cinematography, performances and expanded character stories.

    Others had a much simpler complaint:

    Why does a story that worked as a movie feel so slow as an eight-episode series?

    And that debate may reveal the biggest difference between the 2003 Scandal and Netflix’s 2026 remake.

    First, Korean Viewers Were Definitely Curious

    The new Scandal arrived with unusually high expectations.

    It isn’t simply another historical romance.

    The series reimagines the story previously adapted in the acclaimed 2003 Korean film Untold Scandal, which itself was based on the French novel Les Liaisons dangereuses (Dangerous Liaisons).

    The original Korean film starred Lee Mi-sook, Bae Yong-joon and Jeon Do-yeon.

    This time, those central roles are played by Son Ye-jin, Ji Chang-wook and Nana.

    For Korean viewers who remember the movie, comparison was almost unavoidable.

    Even the new cast acknowledged that pressure before release.

    Ji Chang-wook said the 2003 film had left a strong impression on him, while Nana said she hoped viewers who loved the original could enjoy comparing the differences.

    And viewers clearly wanted to see the result.

    The series climbed to No. 1 in Korea almost immediately.

    But then the arguments started.

    The Biggest Complaint: “It Feels Too Stretched Out”

    This may be the most interesting criticism because it comes directly from the remake’s biggest structural change.

    The 2003 Scandal was a movie.

    The 2026 Scandal is an eight-episode series.

    That gives the new version much more time to explain why the characters behave the way they do.

    Son Ye-jin herself emphasized before release that the series contains far more character backstory than the movie. Director Jung Ji-woo also said the characters and their relationships had been substantially rewritten.

    For some viewers, that’s a strength.

    For others, it’s the problem.

    One Korean viewer on TheQoo complained that stretching the original story into a drama made it feel too slow, despite liking all three lead actors. A Korean review similarly argued that once the central seduction game begins, the longer running time causes the momentum to drop.

    That creates an interesting paradox.

    The remake has more story, but some viewers feel it has less tension.

    More Backstory Doesn’t Automatically Mean More Emotion

    This is where the criticism becomes more specific.

    The new series spends additional time explaining Jo Won, Lady Cho and Hui-yeon.

    That should theoretically make their decisions more believable.

    But some Korean reviews argue that the opposite happens with Hui-yeon.

    One review criticized the series for failing to make the development of Hui-yeon’s feelings for Jo Won convincing enough, despite having much more screen time than the film. Another argued that the expanded supporting stories don’t always come together into one strong narrative.

    That’s important.

    The criticism isn’t simply:

    “The drama is too long.”

    It’s closer to:

    “If you’re going to make the story longer, the extra time needs to make the emotional transformation more convincing.”

    For some Korean critics and viewers, Scandal hasn’t completely achieved that.

    But Others Think the Longer Format Makes the Characters Better

    And this is exactly where the reaction splits.

    The creators never intended to simply reproduce the movie.

    Son Ye-jin said the expanded format allowed the characters to become less one-dimensional, while Ji Chang-wook explained that the series could explore where Jo Won came from, why he became this person and where his choices eventually take him.

    That difference can be felt especially strongly in Lady Cho.

    Lee Mi-sook’s interpretation in the 2003 film remains memorable for many Korean viewers.

    But Son Ye-jin isn’t simply trying to recreate it.

    A recent Korean review contrasted the two interpretations: where Lee Mi-sook’s version emphasized sensuality, Son’s Lady Cho comes across as more openly dignified and aristocratic while carrying the frustration of a talented woman trapped by the restrictions of Joseon society.

    That’s not necessarily better or worse.

    It’s different.

    And that difference explains part of the divided reaction.

    Son Ye-jin and Ji Chang-wook Are Getting Significant Praise

    Even some of the harsher reviews make an interesting exception.

    They praise the leads.

    Son Ye-jin has drawn positive notices for portraying Lady Cho’s conflicting desires: status, love, ambition and anger at being unable to use her abilities freely because she is a woman in Joseon society.

    Ji Chang-wook has also been praised for giving Jo Won more than the image of a simple womanizer. The series explores his attachment to Lady Cho, his loneliness and the destructive obsession underneath his charm.

    And ordinary viewer reactions aren’t uniformly negative either.

    Some Korean community posts simply describe the drama as enjoyable and particularly praise its movie-like direction, while others say they quickly became absorbed in the performances.

    So describing the Korean response as “bad” would be misleading.

    It’s more complicated.

    People are watching. People are talking. And they disagree about what works.

    Nana May Be the Most Divisive Casting

    Among the three central actors, Nana’s Hui-yeon appears to be attracting some of the sharpest criticism.

    The issue isn’t necessarily that viewers think Nana is a bad actor.

    Some reactions question whether her naturally striking, glamorous appearance fits a character who has spent years suppressing herself as a young widow trapped by expectations of chastity.

    One Korean review argued that Nana’s height and strong visual presence make it difficult to completely accept the deliberately faded, withdrawn image the character is supposed to project.

    That’s a casting debate rather than a simple acting debate.

    And it illustrates another challenge facing this remake.

    Korean viewers aren’t meeting these characters for the first time.

    Many still remember Jeon Do-yeon’s version of the role.

    Every new interpretation is competing with a performance that has existed in Korean popular culture for more than two decades.

    Then There Is the Question Everyone Asked Before Release: How Steamy Is It?

    This was probably inevitable.

    The original Scandal became famous partly because of its adult content, and the Netflix remake carries an adults-only rating as well.

    Before release, director Jung Ji-woo was directly asked about the level of sexual content.

    His response was essentially that viewers could expect it.

    And yes—the released drama contains explicit romantic and sexual material. Korean coverage after release described viewers as reacting to a notably high level of adult content.

    But here’s the more interesting part.

    Being more explicit doesn’t automatically make something feel more sensual.

    One Korean viewer who had reached Episode 6 made exactly that distinction, saying the sex scenes didn’t feel particularly erotic while finding the three leads more interesting when they were together than when their individual stories were separated.

    That may explain why the “19+” marketing isn’t the entire story.

    The real question isn’t how much the series shows.

    It’s whether the psychological tension between the characters is as dangerous and seductive as the images themselves.

    The Visual Side Is Much Less Controversial

    One area appears easier to appreciate: the production itself.

    From the beginning, Jung Ji-woo emphasized that he wanted to portray late Joseon society as more sophisticated and visually refined than audiences sometimes imagine. The production uses hanbok, letters, folk paintings and pansori as important parts of its visual and emotional language.

    Even among mixed reactions, viewers have commented on the cinematic quality of the direction.

    For international viewers, this may become one of the remake’s biggest attractions.

    Because Netflix’s Scandal isn’t merely retelling Dangerous Liaisons.

    It is using desire, clothing, architecture, social hierarchy and the restrictions placed on women to make that story specifically Korean.

    The Original Movie Is Both an Advantage and a Problem

    I think this explains much of the Korean reaction.

    International viewers discovering Scandal through Netflix may simply ask:

    “Is this a good drama?”

    Many Korean viewers are asking a different question:

    “What did this version do differently from the movie I remember?”

    Those aren’t the same standard.

    The original film was a major Korean hit in 2003 and became particularly notable as an adults-only period film.

    So every change attracts attention.

    A different Lady Cho.

    A different Jo Won.

    A different Hui-yeon.

    More backstory.

    A longer running time.

    A different ending.

    More explanation.

    And possibly a different kind of sensuality.

    For viewers without memories of the original, those things simply belong to the new show.

    For Korean viewers who know the movie, every one of them becomes a comparison.

    So Do Korean Viewers Like Netflix’s Scandal?

    There isn’t one answer.

    The early numbers tell us something important:

    Korean viewers were extremely interested.

    Reaching No. 1 on Netflix Korea one day after release proves that much.

    But the discussion after release shows something more interesting.

    Some viewers think the eight-episode format gives the characters more depth.

    Others think it sacrifices the dangerous momentum that made the film effective.

    Some admire Son Ye-jin and Ji Chang-wook’s interpretations.

    Others struggle with the casting or characterization, particularly Hui-yeon.

    Some appreciate the adult content.

    Others think explicit scenes alone don’t necessarily create erotic tension.

    And many can still admire the visual beauty even while criticizing the storytelling.

    Perhaps that division is inevitable.

    The 2026 Scandal isn’t trying to erase the 2003 film.

    It’s trying to reinterpret it.

    And for Korean viewers who remember the original, watching the new Scandal isn’t only about discovering what happens next.

    It’s also about deciding whether a story they already know needed to be told differently.

  • Is Netflix’s The Scandal a Remake of Untold Scandal? What’s Different From the 2003 Movie

    Netflix’s upcoming Korean series The Scandal may look familiar to longtime K-drama and Korean film fans.

    A dangerous wager.
    A notorious seducer.
    A powerful woman manipulating the game from behind the scenes.
    And an innocent woman who becomes caught between them.

    If that reminds you of the 2003 Korean film Untold Scandal, starring Bae Yong-joon, Lee Mi-sook and Jeon Do-yeon, you are not imagining the connection.

    But there is an important reason not to assume Netflix’s The Scandal will simply retell the same story.

    Director Jung Ji-woo has already said the new series is “very different” from the 2003 film, explaining that the production went back to the original French novel and rewrote its characters and relationships.

    So what exactly is the connection between The Scandal, Untold Scandal and Dangerous Liaisons?

    And how different could Netflix’s version actually be?

    Is The Scandal a Remake of the 2003 Korean Movie?

    Yes — but “remake” does not tell the whole story.

    The 2003 film Untold Scandal was itself an adaptation of Pierre Choderlos de Laclos’s famous 1782 French novel Les Liaisons dangereuses, better known in English as Dangerous Liaisons.

    The Korean film moved the story from pre-Revolutionary France to late-18th-century Joseon Korea.

    Netflix’s 2026 The Scandal returns to this world of aristocratic desire, manipulation and seduction, once again placing the story in Joseon.

    The new series stars:

    • Son Ye-jin as Lady Cho
    • Ji Chang-wook as Cho Won
    • NANA as Hui-yeon

    At the center of the story is a dangerous wager involving Lady Cho and Cho Won, with Hui-yeon becoming entangled in their game.

    That basic setup will sound very familiar to viewers of the 2003 film.

    But the similarities may become much less straightforward once the story begins.

    The Director Says the New Scandal Is “Very Different”

    This may be the most important thing to know before watching the Netflix series.

    At a press conference ahead of the September 18 premiere, director Jung Ji-woo said the new version is very different from the 2003 movie.

    Rather than simply expanding the old film into a longer Netflix series, Jung said the production returned to the French novel and rewrote the characters and their relationships.

    That distinction matters.

    It suggests that Netflix’s The Scandal should not be approached as an eight-episode recreation of scenes audiences already saw in 2003.

    The basic DNA may remain the same.

    The relationships, motivations and path to the ending may not.

    The Same Three-Person Game — But Possibly Different Players

    Netflix describes Lady Cho as a gifted woman whose abilities cannot be contained by the restrictions placed on women in Joseon society.

    Cho Won is the most famous playboy of his time.

    Hui-yeon is the woman who becomes caught in their dangerous wager.

    On the surface, this preserves the central triangle familiar from earlier versions of Dangerous Liaisons.

    But Netflix’s promotional material already hints that Lady Cho may have motivations that are not immediately visible.

    That could become one of the most important differences in the new adaptation.

    If the characters have been substantially rewritten, the real question may not be:

    “Will the Netflix series follow the 2003 movie?”

    It may instead be:

    “Which character do we think we already understand — but actually don’t?”

    Why Hui-yeon Could Be Especially Important

    Hui-yeon, played by NANA, initially appears to occupy the position of the woman drawn unwillingly into Lady Cho and Cho Won’s dangerous game.

    But this is one character worth watching carefully.

    A modern adaptation has much more room than a two-hour film to develop the supposedly innocent person caught inside the scheme.

    That creates several possibilities.

    Could Hui-yeon have greater agency than viewers expect?

    Could her relationship with Lady Cho become more important?

    Could the person who appears to be a pawn eventually influence the game itself?

    Before release, those questions cannot be answered definitively.

    But the director’s statement that the characters and relationships have been rewritten makes them worth asking.

    Why an Eight-Episode Series Changes the Story

    The 2003 Untold Scandal had to tell its story within the limits of a feature film.

    Netflix’s The Scandal is an eight-part series.

    That extra time gives the writers room to do something potentially much more interesting than simply recreate the original plot.

    They can expand:

    • hidden character motivations,
    • relationships outside the central seduction game,
    • political and social pressures of Joseon,
    • the consequences of female desire in a restrictive society,
    • changes in loyalty,
    • and potentially new twists before the ending.

    The format itself therefore makes substantial adaptation almost inevitable.

    The important question is whether those changes make this familiar story feel genuinely new.

    What About Dangerous Liaisons and Cruel Intentions?

    Some viewers encountering The Scandal may also recognize similarities to Dangerous Liaisons or even Cruel Intentions.

    That is because these stories belong to the same adaptation family.

    The starting point is Laclos’s Les Liaisons dangereuses, published in 1782.

    Its central idea — privileged people turning seduction into a game of power, revenge and manipulation — has inspired numerous adaptations around the world.

    The 2003 Korean Untold Scandal transformed that premise by placing it inside Joseon society.

    Netflix is now reinterpreting it again for a modern global television audience.

    So The Scandal is not simply copying a 2003 Korean movie.

    It is the latest reinterpretation of a story that has been repeatedly reinvented for different eras and cultures.

    Will Netflix Change the Ending?

    This is probably one of the biggest questions for viewers familiar with the previous versions.

    For now, Netflix has not revealed enough to answer it.

    And that uncertainty may be exactly what makes the new adaptation interesting.

    If the characters and relationships really have been rewritten as significantly as the director suggests, assuming that every character will make the same choices — or reach the same destination — could be a mistake.

    The series does not necessarily need to abandon the basic structure of Dangerous Liaisons to surprise viewers.

    A changed motivation, a hidden relationship, an unexpected betrayal or a different decision at a crucial moment could completely alter how we interpret the ending.

    That may ultimately determine whether The Scandal feels like a fresh adaptation or merely another version of a very familiar story.

    The Real Question: How Much Has The Scandal Changed?

    For viewers who have never seen Untold Scandal, Netflix’s series can be watched as a new Joseon romance about desire, manipulation and forbidden relationships.

    For viewers who already know the 2003 movie or Dangerous Liaisons, however, there is another layer of suspense.

    We already know the game.

    We think we know the players.

    We may even think we know where the story is heading.

    And that gives the new series an opportunity to use our expectations against us.

    Director Jung Ji-woo has already warned us that this version is very different.

    Now the question is whether The Scandal can make a centuries-old story unpredictable again.

    The Scandal premieres globally on Netflix on September 18, 2026.

    This article was written before the series premiere and will be updated after release with confirmed differences between the Netflix series, the 2003 film Untold Scandal and the original Dangerous Liaisons story.