Made in Korea (2026), a missed opportunity

A young woman who has spent her whole life dreaming about Korea finally makes it there. The premise alone sounds like the setup for something memorable. Made in Korea, however, only just about keeps you in your seat. Mangoidiots rates it Raw, and the film is streaming directly on Netflix.

Shenba grows up in a mountain village in Tamil Nadu, captivated by the legend of a Tamil queen who sailed to Korea two millennia ago and founded a dynasty there. That folklore thread is genuinely interesting, and the film uses it to set up her lifelong obsession with South Korea. The first half, tracing how she eventually reaches Seoul under unhappy circumstances, moves along well enough.

The trouble begins once she lands there. Ra Karthik had a real city and a compelling story to work with, and he has let both slip through his fingers. I visited Seoul once, a beautiful, alive city with warm, curious people, and I was hoping to see some of that spirit come through in a film that carries its name. Instead, what we get is a standard Kollywood masala transplanted to a foreign backdrop. Credit where it is due: the director has kept villains and fist-fights out of it entirely. The landslide sequence and the scenes around it felt like unnecessary detours that interrupted whatever rhythm the film had managed to build.

Priyanka Mohan is the film’s one genuine bright spot. She carries a screenplay that gives her frustratingly little to work with, yet remains engaging till the very end through a combination of sincerity and screen presence. The chemistry between her and Rishikanth never quite sparks, leaving their relationship emotionally distant. Among the Korean cast, Si-hun Baek, as the vlogger Heo Jun-jae, stands out and makes one wish the character had been written with greater depth. I found myself wishing the film had explored an unhurried romance between Shenba and Heo Jun-jae; it might have provided the emotional anchor the story often lacks. Jenson Dhivakar handles his limited role capably, while Thirunavukkarasu is warm and believable as the father.

Made in Korea had the ingredients for something genuinely touching about two cultures finding each other across centuries. Instead, it ends up as a missed opportunity. I hope it at least serves as a starting point for more meaningful creative collaboration between Tamil and Korean cinema. That is a space worth exploring properly.