Alchemy of Souls, the recently completed 30-episode epic from superstar writing duo the Hong Sisters, qualifies as an anomaly. Although there are always exceptions, a traditional Korean cable drama usually doesn't exceed the default 16-episode format or return for a second season. They're one-and-done, and this limitation often strengthens the end product; less is (almost always) better than excess. Alchemy of Souls, a Netflix sensation, proves the rare opposite point. A story too wide-rangingly creative and narratively comprehensive to limit, rather than one wearing out a tiresome welcome, the production even kept viewers engaged enough to return for Season 2 — a reaction that's never guaranteed in the continued reign of binge-consumption culture.
As with any successful long-running narrative, Alchemy of Souls offers up manifest reasons for why it hooked its captivating teeth into audiences' minds. For one, the experienced Hong Sisters excel at just that. Their character beats and stylistic motifs remain familiar enough to intrigue yet distinct enough to avoid dull repetition. One can draw similarities between Alchemy of Souls and their prior fantasy outings, like Hotel del Luna (and this writer will), but trying to guess the overlapping, overarching mysteries driving Alchemy of Souls was almost as enjoyable as the content itself with its soul-swapping magic system, alternate historical universe, lavish production, and expansive cast. And oh, the bittersweet intensity of that romance. The sisters are a chef kiss in televised form, giving their audience exactly what they want, with a healthy dose of things they never anticipated.
What is 'Alchemy of Souls' About?
Appropriately enough, summarizing Alchemy of Souls would take hours. The simplest description: a group of mages in the fictionalized land of Daeho (based on historical Korean aesthetics but not tied to a specific time period) protects the universe from a dark magic known as the alchemy of souls. The process involves switching souls from one body to another, often by force and for reasons of greed, power, or eternal life (or all three). Daeho's mage institution of Songrim exists to train students in ethical magical practices and eradicate soul shifters. A shifter who has "run wild" must constantly feed on others' souls to survive and poses an obvious risk to innocent human life. Otherwise, Daeho is mythically ripe with ancient practices, artifacts, legends, legacies, conspiracies, and secrets enough to whet any appetite, ranging from as traditional as a secret royal heir to as epic as a firebird.
The main dramatic impetus involves Nak-su (Jung So-min in Season 1, Go Youn-jung in Season 2), a notoriously skilled assassin and enemy of Daeho who accidentally shifts her soul into the physically weak body of a servant, Mu-deok. As such, she's cut off from accessing her magic or legendary battle prowess. Her destiny intersects with that of Jang Uk (Lee Jae-wook), an aspiring mage whose father suppressed Jang Uk's ability to cast spells. Once Jang Uk realizes Nak-su's identity, he takes it in remarkable stride and strikes a bargain: if Nak-su will train him to unlock his mage potential, he will, in turn, assist her in doing the same in her new body. Nak-su reluctantly agrees; the two even more reluctantly fall in love, a mismatched pair who are actually perfectly complimentary.
'Alchemy of Souls' Helps Normalize the K-Drama Antiheroine
Creating some of the most interesting female leads on cable is a large part of the Hong Sisters' weaponized appeal. In 2019, years before the Netflix-produced The Glory and My Name took the concept into the stratosphere, Jang Man-wol (Lee Ji-eun, stage name IU) of Hotel del Luna epitomized the female antihero with her tortured, cold, often cruel, and always glamorous demeanor. A powerful deity condemned Man-wol to oversee the hotel, a resting place for ghosts to resolve their remaining ties before passing into the afterlife, in punishment for murders Man-wol committed well over a thousand years ago. She herself must heal from her savage hunger for revenge and find reciprocated love in order to earn respite, and instead resolves herself to a life of eternal misery. Man-wol does stumble into her redemptive peace, of course, but in a harsher series, IU's cutting eyes and the lingering, predatory snap of her high heels counts as nightmare fuel.
That's a perilously tricky act to follow. Marvelously, Nak-su proves just as rich a lead. An orphaned girl raised by the manipulative villain Jin Mu (Jo Jae-yoon) to serve as his personal assassin in his endless quest for power, Nak-su defines the concept of a ruthless survivor. Her callous, aloof nature suggests she's been stripped of emotion; the opposite's true. Intentionally isolating herself, whether from affection and by making herself the strongest warrior on any battlefield, is the only recourse open to her. Panicked fear is Nak-su's primary motivation for resisting her growing feelings for Jang Uk until the end of Season 1, arguing with herself that he only fulfills a means to an end. Korean media doesn't lack as strongly as it once did for complex, empowered, morally ambiguous heroines, but that doesn't make Nak-su a less invigorating presence. Actresses Jung So-min and Go Youn-jung imbue their shared role with their own unique presence yet never feel discordant, nor does one ring as a poor copy of the other. It's easy to instinctively miss Jung So-min, and Season 2 offers Go Youn-jung the lighter, more winsome material to play, but it's a sparkling portrait of Nak-su's lost innocence that also highlights the replacement actress's chemistry with her leading man.
Nak-su and Jang Uk's Love Story Is Irresistible in 'Alchemy of Souls'
When it comes to said leading man, Lee Jae-wook plays mostly against type as Jang Uk. It's not the easiest part in the world, to be sure; Jae-wook strikes the ideal balance between a stubborn, youthful boy, a rightfully frustrated and displaced young man, and the stalwart love interest that romance K-Dramas produce like no other. The requisite slow motion montages rarely look as lush as Jang Uk catching a raindrop on his gleaming sword, and he offers a feast of mournful glances and pensive stares. After all, Nak-su and Jang Uk's romance drives the series' own soul. Their dynamic is a multiplicity of characteristics: sometimes enemies-to-lovers banter, sometimes tragic, and always mutually devoted. Who is any viewer to resist the metaphorical and literal merging of the sky's light (Jang Uk) with the earth's shadow (Nak-su)?
The Production Value of 'Alchemy of Souls' is Second To None
Even for a 30-episode drama, the sheer size of Alchemy of Souls' cast might seem messy in lesser hands. Rather, the supporting characters' respective quirks, schemes, power plays, and multigenerational romances nourish this (admittedly complicated) world. Each mentor, peer, leader, and enemy boasts their own arc to chart: a young leader's growth out of irresponsibility, a neglected younger daughter's search for purpose, the hopeless yearning of two (yes, two!) separate love triangles, and how each individual intersects with the wider power structure and social hierarchy as a whole. The production design can't be overlooked, either. Budgets rarely go to waste in Korea, which understandably raises viewers' expectations; nevertheless, Alchemy of Souls' cinematography and editing classify as moving art. Each costume is richly constructed and playfully innovative, and it's almost impossible to tell where a location starts, a set ends, or how much CGI fills in the gaps between.
Yes, 30 finished episodes may sound intimidating; indeed, Alchemy of Souls requires commitment. And it's a commitment rewarded, the density of its material substantiative instead of wasteful. Alchemy of Souls marks yet another exquisite example of what makes the traditional cable K-Drama tick: a non-stop mixture of entertaining, inventive, unpredictable, and the viscerally satisfying.