Queen Mantis (2025) Twelve Letters (2025)
Not another serial killer story, you say. No doubt that SK industry have made quite a few notable ones in the last decade or so. There’s clearly a fascination with the genre. So how does one approach the show as a whole? Just another police procedural dealing with psychopathic killers? A morality tale? A tragic invective on modernity? One could begin by critiquing the way the investigation into the copycat murders was handled because the police organization made many mistakes — beginning from the moment that they kept most of the team in the dark and expediently made the son of the original “Mantis” serial killer lead detective without considering the consequences. But that’s the nature of the South Korean police procedurals for as long as I’ve been watching them. These “mistakes” are always the point particularly for a shame and honour society. Pragmatism and haste trumps good sense. The justification being that criminal investigations are perceived in the same light as business KPIs in any other industries. Everyone is after results. Quick and neat with no uncomfortable truths to contend with. There’s no real passion for justice to see here. Nor any kind of restoration. As always politics trumps good sense. As a result the investigation is hampered by doubt and suspicion
Like most of its predecessors, Queen Mantis is really about the consequences of social decay and its devastating effects on the family which leads to horrendous consequences. A chicken and egg question emerges from the cesspool of moral dysfunction. Is social decay the result or the cause of evil in the hearts of men and women? It’s the old nature vs nurture conundrum replayed — the question that hangs over Cha Su-yeol’s (Jang Do-yoon) head as he sits across the table from the woman who birthed him but is better known as the notorious female (a rare phenomenon) serial killer Mantis. He is a man torn between curiosity and resentment. With a large dollop of fear thrown in to make matters worse. How will the world see him when they find out? What will his wife think? Is he genetically predisposed towards violence and murder being the son of Jung I-sin? Is it in his blood? No wonder the prospect of having progeny puts the fear of God in him.
Unbeknownst to Su-yeol, he is an experiment of a kind — given that he grows up without his mother’s influence, can he escape the sins of his family. Is he the product of an intergenerational curse? Is there a murderous impulse lurking beneath that veneer of respectability waiting to take hold given the “right” catalyst? When Jung I-sin confessed to the murders, she made a series of stipulations to ensure that her son had no connection to her, that he would have a fresh start with a new identity raised in a different environment. It’s not immediately clear why to anyone including Su-yeol. When face to face with the bogeywoman of his nightmares, he says to her on one occasion, “Why did you not stop?” after his discovery of Victim Zero ie. the one that set her on her killing spree.
Twenty-something years later, a blood-thirsty devotee wants Mantis to be remembered and understood. A copycat following the pattern set down by his/her idol. Or so it is claimed. The obsession is troubling undoubtedly but it provides an opportunity for a family reunion that’s more hellish than a tension-filled thanksgiving or Christmas gathering. Tolstoy’s “unhappy families” comment a la Anna Karenina would be a laughable understatement. Moreover all copycats muddy the water because they have a completely different agenda even as they emulate the modus operandi. The copy can never be the original and that makes them unpredictably dangerous.
The atmosphere of the show evokes a feeling of dark spiritual forces at work. On appearance Grandpa supposedly represents “the good” with his claims to religiously driven good deeds. However in this show much evil is done in the name of good and even worse good is helpless in the face of evil. Predatory wolves in sheep skin lurk in the most benign spaces. Lawlessness abound because those in authorities are indifferent or helpless.
Systemic evil has long-term even intergenerational ramifications — a theme that is also woven right through Twelve Letters (2025). It is the early 1990s and two young people are struggling to better their lives but the lawless environment keeps winning the day. Where are the police? Where are the police when gambling dad abuses his family for money? Where are the police when the gangsters engage in extortion? They are noticeably absent or late. Things are hopelessly bleak so how can anyone get a leg up and out of that crime infested hell hole (for want of a better word)?
The letters are a supernatural intervention. While it does have Alice in Wonderland allusions with the presence of a ginger cat present at all the right locations, the screeds are heaven-sent help to change a very grim trajectory for the young lovers desperately trying to escape an inevitable separation resulting from a chain reaction. A miracle is needed to prevent two people from forming a family and having foreknowledge of disastrous events is the means by which salvation comes. In 1991 there’s no saviour in sight. Tang Yixun’s friends have been taken from him in a terrible altercation. Ye Haitang is dodging dad and debtors.
Help comes in the form of the present — the offspring of the leads who then play detective trying to find out what happened all those years ago. Of course there are ramifications for them if history is to be changed.
Zhou Yiran and Wang Yilu are terrific in this — natural and grounded. It’s painful to watch them both struggle against the odds and heartbreaking to witness one obstacle after another being thrown in their direction. Will it never end… that’s the million dollar question. There’s something nicely raw and earthy about the storytelling and sets. Not the usual fare one is accustomed to on a diet of CEO romance dramas. The performances range from adequate to very good.
If there are any criticisms to be had, it would be the pacing and the characters in the present timeline who are prone to histrionics. Not sure why the male offspring in particular is imbued with an overabundance of paranoia and prejudice. It’s all very cartoony especially when compared to the sombre tone of the past timeline. The pacing was mentioned in the most recent podcast. The show doesn’t end as neatly or decidedly as it could have been. A lot of time is expended on postponing various significant plot moments and not out of necessity. Other than that, this short drama is definitely worth a look.
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