When Goguryeo’s monarch dies, the surviving queen must fend for herself amidst the adversaries that want her gone. Queen Woo weaves a sprawling web of ulterior motives and political scheming, but its narrative is marred by gratuitous scenes that detract from its central theme.
EPISODES 1-4
Our story begins in 197, on the battlefield. Goguryeo’s king GO NAM-MU (Ji Chang-wook) began a war to reclaim territories wrested away by the Han dynasty, and after two arduous years, they’re down to the final plot of land. Before battle, Go Nam-mu consults the great shaman SABI (Oh Hanee), who foretells an auspicious day heralding victory — but what she doesn’t disclose is that she’d also seen a vision of the king’s bloody corpse.
Against all expectations, Go Nam-mu successfully outwits the enemy by turning their strategy against them. Claiming the severed head of the enemy general, our king returns victorious, despite sustaining injuries. Needless to say, several conniving ministers are quite displeased by his survival.
Meanwhile, in the palace, our eponymous queen WOO HEE (Jeon Jong-seo) predicts the king’s exact strategy. Possessing a brilliant mind and battle tactics on par with her husband, Woo Hee is matched only by the loyal prime minister EUL PA-SO (Kim Mu-yeol!), who goes head-to-head with her in a game of chess.
As it turns out, these three go way back. A young Go Nam-mu had been instantly captivated by Woo Hee when she shot an arrow to save him from a street scammer, and Eul Pa-so had observed the scene from the sidelines. Eight years later, Woo Hee grew into a headstrong young lady capable of sparring against grown men, and she’d harbored a dream of becoming an infantry general.
That is, until Woo Hee overhears her spoiled older sister protesting against her arranged marriage. Why, she wants to be queen, not sequestered away in the frigid northern region with the second prince! Unable to stand idly by, Woo Hee volunteers in her sister’s place — and that’s how she winds up wed to Go Nam-mu. Before long, they fall in love, growing up together and training in the harsh winter.
As for Eul Pa-so, he caught Go Nam-mu’s eye 28 years ago, when he rose to the top ranks in a chess tournament alongside a crossdressing Woo Hee. Twenty years later, when Go Nam-mu rose to the throne, he sought out Eul Pa-so to appoint him as his prime minister. Nevermind that Eul Pa-so has been tilling fields all this time, or that unilaterally appointing him goes against all customs — Go Nam-mu will have no other as his right-hand man.
However, not all eyes look kindly upon our unconventional trio. Not only do the ministers scorn Eul Pa-so for his humble farmer’s background, but they also clamor for Woo Hee’s dethronement. What use is a queen who hasn’t been able to bear a son? Leading the opposition is the west minister HAE DAE-BU (Oh Dae-seok), who clings to the historical precedent of the Go and Hae clans sitting upon the throne in turns. Hae Dae-bu covets the throne alongside MYUNGRIM EORU (Lee Do-yeob), who seeks to control the queen’s seat. Thwarted by Go Nam-mu’s battle victory, Dae-bu makes contact with the “hidden one,” declaring that “the king must die.”
Closer yet is WOO SUN (Jung Yumi), Woo Hee’s older sister and the head of the royal maids. Bitter that her sister — her replacement — rose to the throne when it should have been her, Woo Sun tries and fails to seduce Go Nam-mu in his bath. Her distraught jealousy leaves her vulnerable to manipulation, and thus Sabi swoops in with a love potion. One drop, and the king will fall in love with her. But while Woo Sun is busy adding three drops to the king’s tea, Sabi spikes her cup. In Woo Sun’s mind, she’s joining bodies with Go Nam-mu; in reality, it’s Sabi who’s taking her to bed.
Go Nam-mu is all too aware of the forces that seek to topple his queen, and he resolves to protect her in the only way he’s able to. Not only does he push Woo Hee away by engaging in completely unnecessary sexual debauchery right in front of her, but he also arranges for her to be dethroned and sent away from the palace before her dissidents can harm her.
Except he succumbs first. Woo Sun’s — or rather, Sabi’s — poison has done him in. Eul Pa-so is amongst the first to discover the king’s corpse, alongside the stoic bodyguard MIL-WOO (Yoo Eui-tae) and the seemingly shifty minister SONG WOO (Kim Do-yoon), and he orders it covered up for the time being. Woo Hee must flee for her life, before those who hold a grudge against Go Nam-mu can come for her neck.
However, Woo Hee swallows her grief, and insists on an alternative. She cannot let the throne fall into undeserving hands. That prompts Eul Pa-so to bring up the custom of levirate marriage, in which a late king’s widow marries his younger brother to maintain power. Despite the reservations of her father WOO SO (Jeon Bae-soo), the calculating family head WOO DO (Jo Han-chul) is immediately onboard — Woo Hee must marry the third prince and protect the Woo clan.
With that, Woo Hee departs toward the turf of GO BAL-KI (Lee Soo-hyuk). Her entourage comprises her loyal bodyguard YOO-AH (Park Jung-won), the king’s faithful royal guard MU GOL (Park Ji-hwan), the flirty former royal horseman MO CHI (Lee Hae-woo), and Woo Sun. They have until sunrise to bring the prince back to the palace.
No sooner have they crossed the perimeter into Go Bal-ki’s territory, than they’re greeted by the desecrated bodies of innocent commoners strung up in the trees. The third prince is a callous tyrant who murders his terrified subjects for sport, and our quick-witted queen immediately switches tack, spinning a cover story to conceal the king’s death. To her retinue, Woo Hee declares that she will marry a different prince — she cannot hand the throne’s power over to such a cruel and bloodthirsty man.
Within the palace walls, Eul Pa-so investigates further into the king’s death, narrowing down the poison to one only accessible in the palace. He’s on Sabi’s tail, though Sabi warns him that his star’s light is fading — his life may be on the line. Still, Eul Pa-so is undeterred, even when a mole leaks the king’s death and Woo Hee’s plan via a homing pigeon to the Myungrim clan.
As a countermeasure, Eul Pa-so sends his own message to YEON BI (Park Bo-kyung) of Jolbon. As the direct descendant of the royal Yeon Ta-bal, she seeks to reclaim the lands that Chumo (a.k.a. Jumong) took in his founding of Goguryeo. Massacring her way into a meeting of the clans that lay claim to the queen’s position, Yeon Bi orders Myungrim Eoru to recall the assassins he sent after Woo Hee, then fatally stabs him in the neck. Well, I can’t say I’m sorry to see him go.
Circling back to our queen’s cohort, they sneak out of Go Bal-ki’s domain under the cover of the night. Alas, Woo Sun is tormented by her guilt-fuelled hallucinations of Sabi, which goad her into tattling on her sister to the Hae clan. In turn, the crafty Hae clan tips off Go Bal-ki, offering to put him on the throne if he shares it with them. Infuriated by Woo Hee’s deception, Go Bal-ki sends the brutish White Tiger hunters — led by NWE-EUM (Won Hyun-joon) — to capture her alive. Then Go Bal-ki ruthlessly murders his wife, so that she and the Jwa clan cannot get in the way of his potential levirate marriage to Woo Hee.
That brings me to my primary criticism of this show — it overindulges in gratuitous nudity and sex, at the expense of its women. Nearly every female character, aside from Woo Hee and her bodyguard, is introduced via a sexual encounter. I don’t see the need for Sabi to conduct her divinations with her naked breasts on display, or for Woo Sun to be drugged and duped into sex with Sabi, or for Yeon Bi to have a servant eat her out in front of her court. Even more appalling is the explicit rape in episode 4 — we already know Go Bal-ki is vicious, we don’t need to witness him assaulting his wife before murdering her in cold blood.
Given that this is a story centered around a strong and capable female protagonist, it feels counterintuitive — and hypocritical — to reduce its supporting female cast to sexual objects. It also reeks of lazy writing, given the myriad of alternative ways power and control can be depicted. I’m tired of seeing women objectified and fetishized on the pretext of making a show “dark,” “gritty,” or “realistic” — and that last point is particularly laughable, given the historical inaccuracies this show has already been criticized for. Sex and sexuality can be portrayed onscreen in a tasteful and respectful manner, but instead, Queen Woo used such themes for mere shock value and titillation. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and I’m disappointed in the show’s creators.
It’s a shame, really, because this show had so much going for it. A solid cast packed with established veterans, and a turbulent political landscape in a period of history not often explored — not to mention the intriguingly fraught relationships between the Go brothers. The arrogant crown prince, GO PAE-EUI (Song Jae-rim!) had been passed over by his own father in favor of Go Nam-mu, and he bears an entrenched grudge. Especially since Go Nam-mu sliced off his nose as punishment for treason. Go Pae-eui has been biding his time in exile, and now his chance has finally come.
As for the remaining brothers, we don’t get to see much of them yet, but I’m already itching to find out what secrets they’re hiding up their sleeves. There’s the fourth prince GO YEON-WOO (Kang Young-seok!), who wept sorrowfully for the dying Go patriarch — but were they crocodile tears, or genuine ones? Then there’s the youngest prince GO GYE-SOO (Jung Jae-kwang, whom I’m excited to see again after Connection). Go Gye-soo has consistently demonstrated allegiance to Go Nam-mu, whom he holds in high regard, and perhaps that’s why Woo Hee has decided to marry him instead — though I wonder if there’s a reason she skipped over Go Yeon-woo.
The drama’s first half leaves off upon a cliffhanger, with Sabi realizing her divination may have been erroneous. Instead of Woo Sun as queen, Sabi now sees Woo Hee standing before a throne of crows, decked in full regalia with a sword in her hand. An omen portending more upheaval to come, perhaps. I’ll still be tuning in to see how this tale ends, but I’m afraid I’ll be harboring a wary distrust of its storytellers every step of the way.