Netflix’s foray into the Joseon era with “Dear Hongrang” (or “Tangeum”) presents a familiar setup: a child heir vanishes, plunging a noble family into chaos, only for a mysterious figure to resurface twelve years later claiming the lost identity. Adapted from Jang Da-hye’s novel “Tangeum: Geumeul Samkida,” the series promises a concoction of historical intrigue, familial drama, and simmering romance.

Yet, beneath the silk robes and traditional architecture, “Dear Hongrang” gestures towards contemporary anxieties about truth, identity, and the enduring weight of the past, all packaged for a global streaming audience increasingly hungry for complex Korean narratives. It’s a world where loss is a lingering phantom and a stranger’s arrival could mend old wounds or tear them catastrophically wider.

Heir Apparent or Artful Dodger? The Initial Deception

The disappearance of young Hongrang rips through the Sim family with predictable devastation. His mother, Min Yeon-ui, descends into a well of sorrow,...