Walking on Thin Ice (2025) Half-Time Comments

Lee Young-ae shares the lead with Kim Young-kwang as two unlikely partners-in-crime in this cat and mouse game with law enforcement, a drug cartel and the wealthy party set. Lee Young-ae is right at home as a housewife who works part-time at a supermarket and Kim Young-kwan plays her daughter’s art teacher who moonlights as popular drug dealer, James. It all begins with a drug bust that goes pear-shaped and a suspect carrying a bagful of contraband taking temporary refuge in her home when no one’s looking. He proceeds to hide the coveted stash at her place and there it stays until she happens upon it rummaging around for a bag.

Meanwhile things aren’t going well for Kang Eun-su on the home front. Her affable husband of many years has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. She has no idea until he collapses after a heated exchange and is carted off to the hospital. The treatment is pricey and the chances of recovery are very slim. They’re in debt for different reasons. His investments haven’t paid off. They also have a teenage daughter to feed and raise. She’s a promising young artist. Needless to say, art school and good quality art supplies don’t come cheap.

So Eun-su has money problems. Who doesn’t? But Eun-su is more desperate than most perhaps. Exorbitant medical bills and a daughter who is threatening to leave art school after seeing the writing on the wall, stirs her into action. When she stumbles on the drugs in her own backyard, her first thought is to turn them over to the cops. That is… until she finds out that there is money to be made from it. An idea gradually takes shape when she accidentally eavesdrops on a bathroom deal while cleaning at a well-patronized nightclub. Initially she’s shocked to find out that the mysterious “James” is none other than Su-A’s strapping art teacher but recovers quickly enough to offer him a partnership to dispose of her ill-gotten gains. Although Eun-su is obviously in over her head plunging headlong into this dubious enterprise, she soon proves that she has a knack for the business as long as she doesn’t fall prey to the tip of a nasty piece of steel.

The highlight of this series is undoubtedly the plotting. The writer’s ability to juggle and weave multiple agendas and maintain a wide range of relationships is admirable. It’s a sizeable cast — as it often is for these police procedurals — so the web of connections is impressive. The leads deliver as we might expect. Kim Young-kwang, known for his versatility, occasionally reminds me of Lee Min-ho from certain angles. His Lee Kyung aka James is a fascinating creature. He’s a slick operator in the field but there’s evidently something else going on when we catch glimpses of his dimly-lit apartment. What is he really after? He’s not just peddling illegal substances for the money. Fee fie fo fum… I smell revenge in the offing.

To be honest I don’t much like the characters in this. Neither Eun-su or Lee Kyung come across as particularly appealing when unmasked. There’s no doubting their smarts or resourcefulness in moments of crisis but the moral quagmire that they wallow in gradually diminishes her credibility as the underdog. Trafficking in drugs has moral implications and thankfully the show doesn’t pretend otherwise. Even if the duo are able to outsmart their adversaries today, that doesn’t mean that there are no ugly consequences tomorrow. It’s good money in the short term but the results are mixed. People die horribly in this game.

There’s certainly no attempt to pretty things up here. In fact, the most gripping part of this show is watching how the nightmare unfolds for both. In fact it’s clear that this is as much a fable about people’s relationship with money as it is about the drug trade. At almost every point I question Eun-su’s motives. Outwardly she’s eager to play the attentive wife and mother. But I wonder. Is she as selfless as she leads the people around her to think? She’s portrayed as a creature of her culture — one that is steeped in a new kind of religion — a materialist, consumerist impulse with all kinds of assumptions baked in. Categories like “necessities” and “luxuries” are notoriously difficult lines to draw when it’s the air that you breathe. For instance, when money is scarce, is art school really a necessity? To the point that it’s worth stealing money for? That subtle sense of entitlement driving Eun-su is fascinating to watch. Having no money is no fun but it is made worse when the rich thumb their nose at you because apparently money gives you the right to do that kind of thing with impunity. As long as wealth remains a metric of success, there will always be those who flaunt it mercilessly.

Money certainly projects power. But human beings are very bad at using money and power. The show does a decent job… so far… of getting deep into the weeds of men’s hearts. There’s an ominous feeling though that while all that money has been handy, the trade offs come at too great a price and eventually something’s got to give