Beyond being brash and bossy, Mi-ran also engages in dubious pursuits, such as her ridiculous moon dance outside her mansion at the beginning of the show.
Later on, a friend connects her with a rejuvenating “water of life” procedure from Switzerland, which costs her an eye-watering 300 million won (US$220,000) each time.
Near the end of the series, the procedure is revealed to be a scam. What she is being given is just a saline drip, administered by expat actors rather than foreign doctors.
On the other hand, the show continues a mildly disturbing trend we have seen in several recent Korean dramas of chaebol heirs who initially appear to be antagonists – in this case, Mi-ran’s firstborn son Kim Young-gook (Jung Gyu-woon, Oh My Venus) – being redeemed.
Koreans’ love-hate relationship with the country’s elite, which zigs and zags between envy and jealousy with the speed of a polygraph needle, is fertile ground for exploring its social paradoxes. However, these shows engage with this social phenomenon at only the most superficial level.
What’s more, the ridiculing of the rich happens early on, while the redemption of the wealthy and the concomitant vilification of lower-class usurpers usually happens at the end.
This gives the impression that, while we can laugh at the rich, they are indeed better than the rest of us.
Young-gook is the philandering husband of former professional golfer Oh Wan-soo (Kim Ha-neul). His many infidelities prompt us to hope she will be valued, and loved, by her taciturn bodyguard Seo Do-yoon, played by Rain.
Over time, Young-gook feels guilt for his actions and we begin to understand that he truly loved Wan-soo, despite what his other family members would have her believe.
His redemption comes in a cathartic conclusion, in which he is gunned down by his deranged half-brother for not allowing anyone else to get their hands on his father’s extravagant inheritance, which was left entirely to Hwain’s charitable Now Foundation, run by Wan-soo.
He dies in her arms professing his love for her. While this moment represents an extreme about-face for his character, it also offers an unfortunate contrast to what is supposed to be the focus of the show – the burgeoning relationship between protector and principal that lies at the heart of the story.
Frankly, Do-yoon and Wan-soo’s relationship feels like a relic from the past. There is a lot of arm-grabbing – his on hers, naturally – and not much character building.
Rain does not have the greatest range as an actor, but he generally fares well in broad and performative roles such as those in Ghost Doctor or the Park Chan-wook film I’m a Cyborg, But That’s OK. Here, beyond looking sharp in a suit, Rain’s character is so tight-lipped and reserved as to verge on gormless.
The better performances come from seasoned actors who lean into their clichéd characters with over-the-top flourishes, such as Yoon Je-moon (Nothing Uncovered) as Han Sang-il, the family lawyer with a secret or three lining his briefcase.
A quiet presence early on, he grows in stature as the series progresses, and moves to centre stage as he plays a deadly power game.
Unfortunately, Yoon’s contribution does not provide enough impetus to prevent this tired, outdated series petering out long before its close.
Red Swan is streaming on Disney+.