Mask Girl review: Netflix’s addictive new Korean series is an edgy alternative to sappy K-dramas
Mask Girl review: Always unpredictable and rarely dull, Netflix's new mini-series combines the soapy storytelling of K-dramas with the edgier thrills of turn of the century Korean cinema.
A still from the new Korean mini-series Mask Girl. (Phoro: Netflix)
With the epic sweep of Pachinko and the festering nastiness of a Park Chan-wook movie, Netflix’s Mask Girl is perhaps the most seamless melding of the two most popular kinds of Korean entertainment yet. After a scrappy gang of filmmakers, of which Park was an instrumental member, introduced a transgressive brand of Korean cinema to the world two decades ago, the country has somehow become synonymous with glossy pop music and soapy dramas now. Mask Girl appears to have been made by someone with a deep resentment for this cultural shift.
Like the recent film Past Lives, which attracted crowds even in India simply because it was mostly in the Korean language, Mask Girl has little to do — at least formally — with the wave of K-dramas that is sweeping across audiences of all ages. But it certainly uses tropes that even Ekta Kapoor would be proud of to push its critique of idol culture, and the deep-rooted misogyny that most Koreaboos are happy to keep ignoring.
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The seven-episode mini-series begins as a darkly comic social satire, and then transforms into a revenge saga, before turning to melodramatic violence in its third act. Spanning decades — flashbacks take us to the 1970s, while flash forwards are set in the present day — the series tells the tragic story of Kim Mo-mi, a young woman (played by three different actors) who always dreamed of becoming a famous star, but was held back because of her looks. Nobody let her forget how ugly she is, even as a child, and this turned Mo-mi into something of a timid recluse in her mid-20s.
The first episode is set primarily in the year 2009, when Mo-mi is working at a comically drab corporate office, estranged from her mother and silently pining after her married boss. But in the evenings, she moonlights as a cam model on the internet, having adopted a sensuous persona that she calls ‘Mask Girl’. As Mask Girl, Mo-mi entertains lonely men online in exchange for money, clandestinely living her dream of being a star and also avoiding unsolicited comments about her appearance. But an unpleasant encounter with a ‘fan’ sends her down an rough path marked by murder, incarceration and vengeance.
It would be unfair to reveal more details about what happens, because the show itself is structured in the sort of non-linear, mystery box manner that demands its secrets be kept. But it wouldn’t be rude to reveal that, while Mo-mi is the protagonist of the show, entire episodes are told from the perspectives of different characters. Episode two, for instance, is presented entirely from the point-of-view of a creepy man, while episode three is centred on his mother (!). Briefly, the show transforms into a high school drama, complete with an emo teen and young love, while a later episode is like a mixture of Hansal Mehta’s Scoop and The Shawshank Redemption.
Redemption, funnily enough, is a key theme of the show, based on the ‘webtoon’ by Mae-mi and Hee-se. Written and directed by Kim Yong-hoon, Mask Girl pushes the boundaries of credulity on several occasions. A running gag involving plastic surgeries is particularly funny, but director Yong-hoon is a steady hand behind the camera, maintaining a firm grip over the story’s singular tone. One false move can send shows like this over the edge and into a pool of ridiculousness. But the filmmaking is consistently elegant, and Yong-hoon has a deep empathy for his complex protagonist, which goes a long way in getting us to care about her.
The show could’ve very easily turned Mo-mi into a victim, or worse, a part of the problem. But a handful of key decisions makes a world of difference in how we, as an audience, perceive her. With an almost feline grace, Mask Girl side-steps the criticisms that are often hurled at ‘rape-revenge’ movies. Why, people rightly ask, must women first be brutalised before being allowed to blossom? Why do they seem to enjoy torturing their adversaries when all they wanted was cold, hard retribution? These are valid concerns, and we’re seeing in real-time how filmmakers are acknowledging and addressing them.
But above everything else — the social commentary, the sharp satire — Mask Girl is entertaining. Unlike the recent second season of Made in Heaven, which appeared to be going through a checklist of societal problems that it was determined to solve, Mask Girl never forgets that it’s a piece of genre filmmaking first. And for that, it should be at the top of every watchlist.
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Mask Girl Director – Kim Yong-hoon Cast – Lee Han-byeol, Go Hyun-jung, Nana, Yeom Hye-ran Rating – 4/5
Rohan Naahar is an assistant editor at Indian Express online. He covers pop-culture across formats and mediums. He is a 'Rotten Tomatoes-approved' critic and a member of the Film Critics Guild of India. He previously worked with the Hindustan Times, where he wrote hundreds of film and television reviews, produced videos, and interviewed the biggest names in Indian and international cinema. At the Express, he writes a column titled Post Credits Scene, and has hosted a podcast called Movie Police.
You can find him on X at @RohanNaahar, and write to him at rohan.naahar@indianexpress.com. He is also on LinkedIn and Instagram. ... Read More