Many well-respected Korean television dramas of the past decade have been in the realm of SFFH, firmly establishing the speculative and slipstream as mainstays of the form, whether as the primary genre of the show or to enliven or mystify a more grounded plot. Over time, this K-drama genre has evolved its own vernacular of tropes, imagery, and plot points that shows return to again and again in exploration and execution of the stories it wants to tell. Here are five essential features.
Gods, Psychopomps, and Other Supernatural Beings
Perhaps the most quintessential speculative K-drama protagonist is the titular dokkaebi, or goblin, from tvN’s Goblin (aka Guardian: The Lonely and Great God; 2016-2017). Brought back to life after a selfish death, the goblin Kim Shin needs to learn a lesson about the value of human love and compassion by finding his bride and using his immortality for good, a common character arc for the genre’s supernatural protagonists. Some such characters, like the dokkaebi and the gumiho (the nine-tailed fox) are borrowed from Korean folklore, but many others are recognizable from Western literature, religion, and mythology, such as angels of doom, aliens from other stars, mermaids, and vampires. Whether from East or West, nonhuman protagonists are often framed against their mortal love interests to explore overarching questions about moral action, empathy, and the difficult choices demanded of a short and fragile life. On a lighter side, they’re often called upon to blend in with society and hide their powerful natures, leading to amusing mishaps as they learn how to behave according to social mores and cope with modern technology. Speculative shows that also lean into horror, such as Sweet Home (2020-2024) and Parasyte: The Grey (2024), feature hybrid supernatural characters as a way to subvert this mortal/monstrous binary and illustrate the ambiguity of human impulses.
Dealings with Death
Perhaps not unsurprisingly in stories with a strong stake in immortality, the presence of Death and the afterlife emerges as a counterpoint, either with a claim on an important human character or as a means to ask big questions about coping with impermanence and mortality. Death either comes personified as an underworld deity, when the story needs a source of power, or as a more relatable psychopomp-like figure, sometimes with a human history that can provide speculation on life’s mysteries and their appeal from a place of distance. Some prominent characters connected to death include Goblin’s fan-favorite grim reaper, Wang Yeo, seeking for the sin that traps him in this work; Jang Man-Wol of Hotel del Luna (2019), who sets up a halfway hotel to help ghosts finish their earthly business; Taluipa from The Tale of the Nine Tailed (2020) and its sequel (2023), the bureaucratic regulator of afterlife immigration; or the crisis management psychopomps of Tomorrow (2022), who must prevent untimely deaths as much as facilitate them. While some earlier dramas focus on death and eternality as a contrast to the natural brevity of human lives, more recent shows, such as Tomorrow and Death’s Game (2023), have used this theme to talk about suicide, as self-harm and suicide are social crises troubling many young people in Korea, and to show the importance of holding on to life in the face of its obstacles.
Many Lifetimes
On the other side of this deathly theme is that of reincarnation and a soul’s journey across lifetimes. Both supernatural and mortal characters can experience multiple lifetimes, either over the course of the show or simply included in their backstory as an origin point for present conflicts. Reincarnation comes from Buddhist belief, where the cycle of rebirth is necessary to work through karma and attain liberation, though the shows don’t always—or even often—reference these religious roots. Rather, reincarnation serves as a means to tie characters together across the differing situations of historical periods with humorous, as in From Now On, Showtime! (2022), or tragic, as in Chicago Typewriter (2017), consequences. Reincarnation also plays a large part in the love and hate stories of these dramas: Lee Yeon, the immortal gumiho in The Tale of the Nine Tailed, waits several hundred years for the reincarnation of his first love, whose death he was responsible for. Goblin’s Kim Shin and Wang Yeo must resolve the enmity of their past lives to cut themselves free from the bitterness holding them back from Heaven. Finally, those caught between lives, such as ghosts, spirits, and zombies, also feature frequently as side characters, sometimes as a bridge for human characters to reach the supernatural world or as a deathless antagonistic force.
Time Travel
Reincarnation isn’t the only means through which a K-drama plot can move around in time, however. Time travel broadens the definition of an SFF show, as it can introduce a speculative or magical flavor to an otherwise realistic plotline and suggest a necessary suspension of disbelief to follow the story to its close. Some dramas use it as a jumping-off point for saeguk period dramas by introducing a modern character, such as Go Ha-Jin in Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo (2016) and Jang Bong-Hwan in Mr. Queen (2020-2021), into a historical setting, where they become involved in political schemes and struggle to adapt to their new circumstances. Other dramas use time travel to give their protagonists second chances, establishing an initial situation that ends, as in the case of Again My Life (2022), Reborn Rich (2022), and Lovely Runner (2024), in a major character’s death. Offered a miraculous chance for a do-over, the protagonist can travel to the past with the memories of their original timeline intact to solve mysteries, plot revenge, and generally redirect circumstances to create a happier future. Through these devices, time travel plots often involve the closest thing to what SFF K-dramas have of magic, as the means of the time travel is typically hand-waved and vague. Only a few shows explicitly use a time machine or center a character whose ability to time travel precedes the inciting events of the plot.
Fate
Finally, fate casts a long shadow across all K-dramas. While grand conversations about fate can come across as a flimsy yet convenient reason for a main couple to end up together, the notion itself possesses a deeper philosophical origin. “Inyeon” or “unmyeong”in Korean, this definition of fate arises from a Buddhist notion that all human connections are predestined or divinely ordained, responsible not only for the multi-lifetime approach to love stories, but also for the deeply explored relationships among secondary characters that K-dramas are so renowned for. Fate sometimes takes an active role in the plot—personified in Goblin as God, speaking to the protagonists about the direction their lives must take—though more often it remains abstract, a concept that guides characters through choices or leads them to accept difficult circumstances, including important sacrifices. Furthermore, it doesn’t contradict free will or mean that people are robbed of personal agency: as the voice of God states in Goblin, “Fate is a question I ask someone. The answer is something you must find for yourselves.” The message that meaningful personal connection is often the answer is a strong statement to these shows’ priorities and overall message.
Cressida Blake Roe is a biracial writer, whose work appears in Lightspeed, The Deadlands, Gamut, Factor Four, and other venues. Recent stories have been selected for the Wigleaf Top 50 and nominated for the Best Small Fictions. See more at www.cblakeroe.wordpress.com.