Dear X: A Visually Stunning but Morally Ambiguous Descent into Darkness

Dear X arrives with an energy that feels almost disruptive—loud, stylish, and strangely intimate, as if the show knows exactly how far it can push the audience before pulling them back in again. Directed by Lee Eung-bok, the mind behind Guardian: The Lonely and Great God, the drama follows Baek Ah-jin, a top actress diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder. She isn’t written as a misunderstood antihero; she’s a calculating figure who treats the entertainment industry like a game board. What makes the show unsettling—and addictive—is how effortlessly she manipulates everyone around her.

Visually, the series is breathtaking. Morally? It’s a minefield. Yet that’s precisely what makes it so compelling. And with Dear X now streaming on YouCine, downloading the APK suddenly feels like a very easy decision.


Banner post featuring a man embracing a woman, showcasing intimacy from a Korean series.

A Compelling Premise with Narrative Ambition

The core idea behind Dear X is undeniably strong: a celebrated actress whose polished public persona hides a cold, ruthless operator underneath. The opening episodes handle this contrast beautifully. One moment she’s waving at fans; the next, she’s dissecting someone’s weakness with frightening precision.

Her past—marked by family betrayal and childhood violence—feeds into her emotional detachment, and early episodes weave these flashbacks in with surprising restraint. But as the story picks up momentum, the script begins to feel crowded.

The first half tracks Ah-jin’s rise with laser focus. Then the drama suddenly expands: corporate conspiracies, romantic entanglements, a long-buried murder tied to her father. None of these threads are “bad,” but together they occasionally tangle the pacing. Certain mid-season episodes feel like the show is juggling more ideas than it can comfortably hold.


Kim Yoo-jung’s Tour-de-Force Performance

Kim Yoo-jung carries this entire series on her shoulders, and she does it with a level of precision that feels almost unsettling. She sheds her old image completely—no trace of the cheerful child actress remains. Instead, we get a version of Ah-jin who seems to observe the world as if she’s slightly detached from it.

Her performance is full of tiny, brilliant choices: the way she barely blinks when she’s lying, the flatness in her eyes during emotional scenes, the sudden shift into a picture-perfect smile when cameras appear. It’s the closest K-drama has come in years to portraying antisocial behavior without turning it into caricature.

Her co-star Kim Young-dae gives a sturdy, sympathetic performance as Yoon Jun-seo, but his character arc sometimes feels oddly underwritten. At times he’s a moral anchor; at others, he’s simply there to move the plot forward. That inconsistency weakens what could’ve been a more electric dynamic between them.


Featuring a smiling woman from a Korean series, conveying warmth and positivity.

Aesthetic Brilliance and Thematic Depth

One thing Dear X never fumbles is its visual identity. The show is drenched in symbolism. Mirrors appear constantly, not as subtle metaphors but as deliberate reminders of Ah-jin’s fractured self-image.

There’s a standout sequence where a blood-stained staircase transitions into a red carpet—one of the most striking visual metaphors in the series. Moments like these show Lee Eung-bok working at full creative power.

The story leans heavily into the hypocrisy of celebrity culture, especially the way women are shaped, framed, and discarded. Ah-jin’s manipulation of the men around her—her stepbrother, her loyal accomplice—isn’t presented as empowerment, but as a chilling inversion of the industry’s usual power dynamics. She’s not simply “evil”; she’s a product of a world that rewards cruelty and punishes vulnerability.


Pacing and Structural Inconsistencies

If the show has one recurring issue, it’s pacing. The tension builds beautifully at first, but the middle episodes bog down in unnecessary detours. A romantic subplot with an idol-turned-actor feels like it wandered in from another drama entirely.

The finale attempts to wrap everything in a visually impressive, almost operatic flourish—but certain storylines, especially Jun-seo’s, end abruptly. The emotional payoff doesn’t land as strongly as the build-up suggests.

The tonal shifts can also feel abrupt. A grim, psychologically heavy scene is occasionally followed by melodramatic dialogue or a sudden dash of romance, leaving the atmosphere uneven.


Verdict: A Bold, Flawed Masterpiece

Dear X is far from perfect, but it’s the kind of show you’ll think about long after the credits roll. Its ambition is undeniable, its visuals striking, and Kim Yoo-jung’s performance alone makes it essential viewing.

The narrative sometimes loses its footing, yet the series leaves a lasting impact—inviting the audience to question whether Ah-jin is a monster, a survivor, or something far more complicated.

For viewers drawn to morally complex characters and psychological thrillers that linger under your skin, Dear X is worth every minute. And if you want to dive in yourself, the YouCine APK makes it incredibly easy to do so.

Final Score: 8.5/10

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