The SBS thriller drama "Queen Mantis" has captivated audiences with its provocative central question: can a serial killer mother truly love her child? Starring Go Hyun-jung in a chilling transformation, the series follows Jung I-shin, a notorious murderer who brutally killed men who targeted women and children. After serving 23 years in prison, she is released to assist in investigating a copycat case and reunite with her estranged son, detective Cha Su-yeol, played by Jang Dong-yoon.
Despite the polarizing nature of the crime thriller genre, the show has exceeded all expectations in terms of viewership. The series reached a nationwide rating of 7.5 percent with its fourth episode, making it the top-rated Friday-Saturday drama. It also climbed to the number one position on Netflix Korea, demonstrating its broad appeal across different viewing platforms.
The heart of the drama lies in Jung I-shin's contradictory nature, which Go Hyun-jung portrays with powerful charisma. She simultaneously appears to love and long for her son while also tormenting and manipulating him, creating an intense psychological tension that drives the narrative. This complex dynamic has become the show's most compelling element, keeping viewers engaged despite the disturbing subject matter.
With only two episodes remaining before the finale, entertainment reporters from Hankook Ilbo have analyzed the disturbing and intricate relationship between the mother and son. Their discussion reveals multiple layers of the characters' motivations and the quality of the performances.
Regarding Jung I-shin's decision to cooperate with the investigation, the reporters noted that even as a psychopathic killer, she appears driven by a strong desire to see her son again after decades of separation. While she is far from ordinary, she is not completely devoid of maternal love. She shows no guilt over her murders, but the reporters believe she feels regret for abandoning her young son and turning him into the child of a murderer.
The first condition Jung I-shin set when confessing was to protect her son, demonstrating some level of maternal instinct. In the scene where she first meets Su-yeol and calls him by his birth name, Jung-ho, her hands tremble and her eyes waver, suggesting genuine emotion beneath her cold exterior.
Interestingly, the son also harbors curiosity about his mother despite his hatred. After learning that I-shin once changed their identities to protect him, Su-yeol visits her with her favorite Yirgacheffe coffee. He becomes furious and disappointed when he discovers her escape, but deep down, he holds onto hopes that perhaps his mother isn't entirely evil or that she does love him. The drama amplifies the typical parent-child dynamic of love and hate by portraying them as a detective and a ruthless criminal.
Su-yeol appears anxious that he might become like the mother he has hated his entire life, and this fear explains why he refuses to have children. Jang Dong-yoon's portrayal of Su-yeol presents someone so obsessed with living righteously that he probably never even littered. However, this contrasts sharply with scenes of emotional turmoil, where his acting feels somewhat stiff. Particularly disappointing is the scene where he confesses to his wife: "I'm scared of myself. Do I like the smell of blood? Do I want to shoot people legally?"
Go Hyun-jung's performance, however, has been universally praised as unmatched. Her ability to casually describe brutal killing methods is genuinely psychopathic. In one chilling scene, she explains: "When a saw cuts through the neck bones from side to side, the torso vibrates. Drrrr, drrrr." The way she closes her eyes and appears to feel pleasure while describing this violence instantly freezes the atmosphere and reminds viewers of the show's thriller nature. The tension is vastly different in scenes with and without her presence.
The concept of a female psychopathic serial killer is something rarely seen in Korean drama, which feels refreshing to audiences. However, the fact that she kills as a form of resistance against male violence feels like a repetition of familiar tropes. Before her first murder, I-shin is portrayed as a warm mother who even cares for a neglected neighbor's child, but she suddenly transforms into someone who enjoys killing. This transformation lacks convincing motivation, though the remaining episodes may reveal more of her backstory.
Su-yeol believes that I-shin kills simply because she enjoys it, stating: "She chooses people who have done something wrong, just to justify killing them." Through the first six episodes, the show deliberately blurs the line between I-shin's true self and the real reason for her release from prison.
One criticism of the series is that I-shin's overwhelming presence overshadows other major characters, making the rest of the cast feel dull and frustrating by comparison. The subplot about ace investigator Kim Na-hee's divorce feels unnecessary and detracts from the main story. Her impulsive reaction of grabbing a key suspect by the collar and inadvertently helping his escape seems unrealistic for a seasoned detective.
The investigation itself contains many flaws that have drawn criticism from viewers. The police's lack of skill is so obvious that it becomes distracting rather than serving the plot. Questions arise about why it took them so long to find a victim trapped inside a hospital laundry machine, and how they failed to track the route between the abduction site and the hospital despite numerous security cameras. Most importantly, while the show's main premise is that I-shin is helping the investigation, viewers still don't know what she has actually done to assist.
Director Byun Young-joo, known for speaking out on human rights issues, has incorporated social commentary into the series. In episode six, when transgender character Eddie explains gender-affirming surgery in detail, viewers are reminded of the director's commitment to addressing social issues. The series is unusually short for a terrestrial TV miniseries, with only eight episodes, but the pacing still feels sluggish rather than tight and concise.
The trend toward shorter dramas reflects the changing landscape of television consumption. With fewer viewers watching live broadcasts and rising production costs, TV dramas are increasingly adopting streaming platform formats to fit services like Netflix. This shift toward shorter, more provocative dramas appears inevitable as creators attempt to capture viewers in the short-form content era, requiring stories to be more intense and fast-paced. Unfortunately, this trend means that slower, more subtle dramas are losing their place in the current entertainment landscape.
