New Delhi:
They say the threads of fate are invisible, binding strangers together in ways we can never anticipate. In South Korean cinema and television, these threads are often painted red, stretched taut between characters whose lives collide with devastating consequences.
Karma, Netflix’s latest six-episode crime thriller from director Lee Il-hyung, doesn’t just follow these threads – it weaves them into a noose, tightening around the necks of six morally compromised individuals until they can barely breathe.
Based on Choi Hee-seon’s popular Kakao webtoon Akyeon (which roughly translates to “ill-fated relationship”), Karma presents a meticulously crafted puzzle box of human desperation, greed, and the inescapable consequences of one’s actions.
The series opens with a striking scene – a severely burned man being rushed to a hospital, his identity concealed behind his injuries. When he whispers his name to the attending doctor, her visible shock establishes the central mystery that will drive the narrative forward.
From this compelling beginning, the series jumps back 15 days, gradually introducing us to its six principal characters whose lives will become catastrophically intertwined.
We meet the Debtor (Lee Hee-joon), a factory worker drowning in loans after a cryptocurrency investment goes bust. Threatened by organ-harvesting loan sharks, he discovers his estranged father’s substantial life insurance policy and hatches a plan to have him killed.
Enter Gil-ryong (Kim Sung-kyun), a recently fired Korean-Chinese coworker who agrees to do the job for a cut of the money.
Meanwhile, a doctor nicknamed “Glasses” (Lee Kwang-soo) and his girlfriend Yu-jeong (Gong Seung-yeon) become entangled in a hit-and-run accident that’s witnessed by a mysterious man (Park Hae-soo).
The sixth character is Dr. Ju-yeon (Shin Min-a), whose connection to the others initially seems tenuous but eventually reveals itself as perhaps the most devastating thread in this tapestry of fate.
Lee Il-hyung’s direction is confident and precise. The series plays with time, shifting between perspectives and allowing viewers to witness pivotal moments from different characters’ viewpoints.
What at first appears to be an anthology format gradually reveals itself as an intricately connected narrative, with each episode peeling back another layer of the complex relationships between these strangers. The show’s dark, shadow-drenched cinematography perfectly complements its themes, creating a sense of inescapable dread that permeates every frame.
The performances across the board are exceptional, with Park Hae-soo delivering a standout turn as the enigmatic witness. Known for his role in Squid Game, Hae-soo brings a chilling intensity to his character, alternating between calculated manipulation and explosive unpredictability.
Lee Hee-joon, fresh from A Killer Paradox, convincingly embodies the desperate Debtor, while Lee Kwang-soo successfully sheds his comedic reputation to portray a man spiraling into moral compromise.
Shin Min-a brings depth to what could have been a one-note character, infusing Dr. Ju-yeon with quiet resilience in the face of resurfaced trauma.
Where Karma occasionally falters is in its pacing, particularly during its first half. The deliberate unspooling of connections requires patience that some viewers might find testing.
Additionally, the treatment of its female characters sometimes falls into familiar tropes, with both Yu-jeong and Ju-yeon occasionally reduced to devices that serve the male characters’ arcs rather than fully realised individuals with agency of their own.
What elevates Karma beyond typical thriller fare is its unflinching examination of causality. Every decision, no matter how desperate or well-intentioned, creates ripples that eventually return as waves.
The series doesn’t deal in simple morality; instead, it presents complex, flawed individuals whose worst impulses often stem from understandable places. This nuanced approach makes the inevitable consequences all the more devastating.
The series’ title isn’t just descriptive – it’s prescriptive. As these six lives collide in increasingly violent and unexpected ways, the show interrogates whether karma is simply the natural result of our actions or something more deliberate, a cosmic justice administered by forces beyond our control. Is it chance that brings these particular individuals together or something more intentional?
Karma doesn’t offer easy answers. Its conclusion is messy, bloody, and devoid of neat resolutions. Some characters escape the consequences of their actions, while others pay prices far exceeding their sins. The red threads that connected them don’t break cleanly; they fray and tangle, leaving loose ends that reflect the complicated nature of justice itself.
With its taut storytelling, powerful performances, and philosophical underpinnings, Karma stands as a worthy addition to South Korea’s impressive catalog of crime thrillers. Though not without flaws, its unflinching exploration of fate’s cruelty and the inescapable nature of one’s past makes for compelling, if occasionally uncomfortable, viewing.
