Netflix's 'Trigger': Kim Young-kwang in the Crosshairs of Controversy
In 2025, Netflix released the Korean original series 'Trigger', set in a fictional version of South Korea overrun by illicit firearms. In a country long known for its strict gun control laws and relatively gun-free society, the premise alone introduces a shocking "what-if" scenario that has both intrigued and divided audiences. At its core, the show explores the fallout that occurs when anonymous packages containing guns begin arriving at everyday homes, schools, and businesses.
The series stars Kim Nam-gil and Kim Young-kwang, with the latter playing the enigmatic and deeply troubled character "Moon Baek." His performance, complex and layered, forms one of the emotional anchors of the series—and a lightning rod for both praise and criticism.
Beyond Bullets: A Symbolic Take on Society
Trigger uses its fictional gun epidemic not merely as a plot device but as a metaphor for unchecked hatred, societal breakdown, and moral collapse. The guns, spreading like a virus, reflect how easily human conflict escalates when given the literal tools to destroy. It's a mirror to global issues—the rise in gun violence in places like the United States—but dramatized in a setting where such chaos is usually unthinkable.
The show also dives deeply into themes like bullying, housing fraud, workplace harassment, and systemic injustice. These issues emerge as fueling sources for ordinary people to pick up firearms in despair, hopelessness, or barely masked rage. In that sense, Trigger feels like a cautionary tale or a nightmare social experiment—the kind of narrative that dares to ask, "What would you do if someone handed you a gun for free?"
What Worked: Praise for Social Risk-Taking
While controversial, many viewers and critics have praised Trigger for its thematic ambition. In drawing from real-life grievances and societal pressures, the show stakes out bold territory. It's not unlike Joker (2019), where personal trauma and systemic neglect lead to explosive consequences. Both shows lean into the uncomfortable truth: violence doesn’t start with guns—it starts with people, and with a society that too often ignores its weakest members.
Kim Young-kwang, portraying a man shaped by child trafficking and criminal violence, gives Moon Baek an unpredictability that oscillates between charming and dangerous. Critics have lauded him for shedding his pretty-boy image and embracing a complicated antihero role. His performance pairs well with Kim Nam-gil’s steadier depiction of Do, a more by-the-book investigator but one who struggles against his own moral boundaries.
From a directorial angle, the show's pacing, suspense, and gritty atmosphere have earned comparisons to Western-style thrillers. Artistic flourishes—like long tracking shots during street riots and the jarring silences before gunfire erupts—lift it above standard action fare. It's one of the few Korean shows that engage with gun culture, albeit fictionally, in a way that feels deliberate and not just for spectacle.
Criticism: Violence, Realism, and Narrative Wobbles
Despite this, Trigger isn't without flaws—and some have called its central conceit absurd. With South Korea having among the lowest rates of gun violence in the world, the series’ foundation stretches believability for local audiences. Some fear it injects unnecessary paranoia or sensationalizes problems that don’t genuinely exist in Korean society.
Others point out the show’s excessive reliance on violent imagery. With a hard R rating (think: strong language, brutal shootouts, and blood-soaked revenge arcs), the dramatization often feels unrelenting. Parents and educators have voiced concerns that such scenes could dull sensitivity to violence or even glamorize vigilantism. These are valid fears in a global context where gun violence is tragically common and media often blurs the line between critique and glorification.
From a purely structural standpoint, much of the backlash has focused on the latter half of the show. Where the early episodes build tense character studies and social commentary, the finale veers more toward implausible plot twists and bombastic drama. There's a sense that nuance was left behind in favor of headline-making climaxes.
Final Verdict: Unsettling Yet Necessary
Is Trigger a cautionary masterpiece or a violent misstep? Probably both. It’s rare for a Korean drama to tackle gun culture—especially in such a symbolic and provocative way. More importantly, it brings to the surface the boiling frustrations of people stuck within systems that fail them.
Still, the storytelling must take greater care not to alienate its audience with overblown theatrics or lose its message under layers of stylized brutality. That said, the actors, particularly Kim Young-kwang, shine through and elevate the dialogue. His character’s haunted eyes and unpredictable motives leave a lasting impact, demonstrating how personal trauma can manifest in society-shaking ways.
Ultimately, Trigger asks a question every society must confront: if we give people the means to act on their pain, who decides what happens next? It’s a disturbing thought—but in our divided world, not an irrelevant one.
