My Name
What It Feels Like
Yoon Ji-woo watches her father murdered and infiltrates the gang responsible by joining the police under their control. What if John Wick were a Korean woman in her twenties? My Name is revenge distilled: a woman learning to fight, seducing her enemy's right hand, and systematically dismantling an organization from within. Han So-hee transforms from traumatized victim to lethal weapon across eight relentless episodes. The fight choreography is bone-crunching Korean action cinema. The plot twists. You're never sure who's manipulating whom until the final, devastating reveal.
The 7-Dimension Analysis
Characters & Acting (8/10)
Han So-hee is ferocious. Her transformation from desperate daughter to cold operative is physical—she trains, she fights, she kills. Park Hee-soon as the crime boss and Ahn Bo-hyun as the detective both carry moral complexity. These aren't good people; they're broken people surviving in systems that broke them.
World Building (7/10)
Korean criminal underworld meets police corruption. The drug operation, the gang hierarchy, the compromised detective unit—all feel researched. The training sequences give weight to Ji-woo's transformation. Dongcheon isn't a cartoon gang; it's an ecosystem.
Cinematography (7.5/10)
The fights are shot with Korean action precision—wide frames, clean choreography, visible impact. Night sequences use neon and shadow. The camera stays on Han So-hee's face as often as her fists; the physical toll is visible. Every punch costs something.
Visual Spectacle (6/10)
The spectacle is the violence: hand-to-hand combat rendered with artistry. No superpowers, just skill and fury. The final confrontation sequence is an extended masterclass in close-quarters action. The show trusts choreography over effects.
Conceptual Density (6/10)
Revenge and its costs. Identity as weapon and as loss. The question "who are you?" is literal—Ji-woo takes a new name, a new life. The show doesn't lecture; it demonstrates. By the end, you understand everything sacrificed for vengeance.
Narrative Drive (9/10)
Eight episodes, no fat. Every episode advances infiltration, training, or discovery. The twists recontextualize earlier events without cheating. You watch to find out who killed Dad and how Ji-woo will kill them. The pacing is relentless.
Narrative Path & Resolution (7/10)
Complete story with definitive ending. The final confrontation pays off every training sequence and relationship. Ji-woo's arc is resolved—what she becomes, what she chooses, what she loses. Korean drama tradition: endings hurt and satisfy simultaneously.
Where to Watch
US: Netflix
UK: Netflix