Under the Queen’s Umbrella is billed as a comedy, but although it’s funny, this doesn’t quite capture its real strength: at heart, it’s an intense political thriller about a woman striving to keep her family alive. This show is a wry look at the difficulty of surviving as a woman at court, but it’s also plotty and creative, with more cutthroat political scheming than you can shake a stick at.
EPISODES 1-2 WEECAP
QUEEN IM HWA-RYEONG (Kim Hye-soo) is a force of nature. She storms through the palace at breakneck pace, gulping herbal medicine pills like they’re the Joseon equivalent of Red Bull. When she catches her son fooling around with a courtesan, she drags the former straight out of bed, and brandishes a hairpin to the latter’s throat. She’s assertive to the point of recklessness with the formidable DOWAGER QUEEN (Kim Hae-sook), confident in her position as official wife amongst her king’s bristling flanks of consorts. (After all, what’s better than five sons and one wife? Ten sons, and ten wives! At this point, the king could start a marching band.)
However, if there’s one thing she’s sure of — and believe me, our heroine is sure of many things — it’s that her four youngest sons needn’t apply themselves too assiduously to their studies. Why would they, when she’s already raised the perfect crown prince (Bae In-hyuk), primed to ascend to the throne unchallenged? Therefore, when the King’s cadre of consorts squabble and clamor for their sons to shine in the Jonghak — i.e. royal school — it’s not too big a deal that the grand princes appear somewhat duller. Of course, this won’t stop our queen from sprinting across the palace to shepherd her embarrassment of sons into some semblance of decorum… or, at the very least, persuade them to show up.
As for our band of miscreants? There’s PRINCE SEONGNAM (Moon Sang-min), a wild child who’d rather ditch everything to go riding. Then, PRINCE MUAN (Yoon Sang-hyeon), consummate ladies man, he of the unauthorized “friendship” with the courtesan, whose interest in his studies extends only as far as the odd seminar on sex education. There’s PRINCE GYESEONG (Yoo Seon-ho), a bookish young man who’d show promise, were it not for his carefree indifference to more or less everything. Finally, there’s PRINCE ILYOUNG (Park Ha-joon), who… well, frankly, I’m not sure what’s up with Ilyoung. Mostly, he just likes to sleep in. Relatable!
No matter. Our crown prince is the very model of a Joseon intellectual. He’s a dutiful son and loving father, who never saw a grade in his life that wasn’t tong — outstanding. Approximately none of this matters when he collapses to the floor, mid-conversation with his doting mother. Turns out, even perfect heirs have perfectly-kept secrets — and the Prince’s is deadly. He’s been steadily growing sicker over the past year, thanks to the same fatigue condition that afflicted his uncle, PRINCE TAEIN. Here’s the kicker: Prince Taein died of it. Informing the king is a road fraught with peril; Hwa-ryeong’s position, and therefore the safety of her sons, depends on the crown prince’s health. Best to stay discreet — for now.
Meanwhile, the four grand princes face trouble of their own — though, for once, they’re not the ones who started it. Granted, it looks bad: PRINCE UISEONG (Chani), son of the honored CONSORT HWANG (Ok Ja-yeon), is sprawled out with a bloodied lip before them. Of course, Uiseong is also a sullen little brat who keeps spitting venom about the queen. It’s for her sake that the grand princes refuse to give a reason for the fisticuffs — resulting in a deeply disdainful Dowager Queen. She sentences the troublemaker princes to repent on their knees in the pouring rain.
Consort Hwang, for her part, is appalled… that Uiseong got caught. He has no right to insult the queen! Not yet, in any case. For now, she offers some loving motherly advice, in between lashes of a whip: keep your mouth shut and your priorities straight. If Uiseong surpasses the crown prince, he can crow to his heart’s content. Hwa-ryeong’s own maternal instincts are a little less violent, though no less fierce. She openly defies the Dowager Queen to rescue her sons from the rain — knowing that they may face worse peril in time.
She’s right to worry: the Dowager Queen is chock full of tricks. With a member of the prince’s cohort at Sigangwon — i.e. royal royal school — soon to be sent on a diplomatic mission, there’s an opening. She coyly suggests that KING LEE HO (Choi Won-young) supplement his retinue with one of the princes.
At the ever-expanding meeting of queen and consorts — wife number ten dropped just this morning — Hwa-ryeong makes the announcement. It’s a blatant opportunity for advancement. The consorts stumble over themselves to petition the Dowager Queen for advice. After all, she accomplished what they could only dream of: though once a concubine, her son now reigns.
It’s precisely this fact that’s been nagging at Hwa-ryeong. The precedent doesn’t bode well. When Prince Taein died, he had several living brothers. Yet, it is Lee Ho, son of a concubine, who achieved the throne. Is the Dowager Queen hoping to repeat history? It certainly looks that way: word is, she’s given out a secret book to at least one consort, detailing her special formula for the rearing of a king. (In actuality, she’s given one to every consort with a son.)
Still reeling from these machinations, Hwa-ryeong returns to the crown prince’s secret sickbed — only to come face to face with the Dowager Queen herself. This canny political operator makes herself clear: above all else, she seeks stability in the royal court. If that means promoting a lesser prince above one of Hwa-ryeong’s unruly sons — so be it. In short? Hwa-ryeong should watch her step. Her safety now hangs by a slender thread.
How to protect her sons from this new peril? Well — knowledge is power. Hwa-ryeong determines to learn all she can about the last time the kingdom was in crisis… chiefly, the fate of QUEEN YOON, mother of the late Prince Taein.
It’s late at night when the queen ventures out, umbrella barely shielding her from the drumming rain. Even at risk of treason, she seeks out a deserted house where the deposed Queen Yoon (Seo Yi-sook) lives in exile. Keenly aware of the danger, Queen Yoon demands that she leave at once — but falters as Hwa-ryeong drops to her knees in the mud. She doesn’t know where else to turn.
Queen Yoon’s story is a chilling one. Far from succumbing to illness, Prince Taein was supposedly cured before he died. Afterwards, everything happened with suspicious haste: Lee Ho was crowned king, Queen Yoon’s father accused of treason, and her sons… well, they didn’t last long. Queen Yoon made the same mistake as Hwa-ryeong: determined not to breed resentment amongst her children, she only trained the eldest to rule; the rest, she prepared for marriage outside the palace. As such, they showed no capacity for governance. Instead, the son of a concubine was chosen — after which, all but one grand prince died in mysterious circumstances. To save her sons from an identical fate, Hwa-ryeong pledges to be ruthless.
Elsewhere, the Dowager Queen continues to scheme: this time, alongside promising junior schemer, Consort Hwang. Once upon a time, Consort Hwang was the favored candidate for queenship — but the king, determined to keep his maternal relatives in check, married the humble Hwa-ryeong instead. The Dowager Queen regrets the fact that Uiseong has been sidelined as a result. Still, to judge by her pointed tree metaphors, she’s keen to make amends: the two establish, through careful code, that they’re not above — erm — uprooting the crown prince.
Across the palace, the consorts subject their sons to the Dowager Queen’s finest exam hacks, most of which feel decidedly clickbait-y: Six Ways to Supercharge The Royal Brain… Number Three Will Shock You!. (Number three, by the way, is dunking him in saltwater every morning.) Meanwhile, the queen starts work on her own sons. The crown prince is now walking, talking, and doing his best to feign good health. However, the other four — blithely unaware of any threats — can’t understand why Mom’s being weird about this cohort business. Now, she’s asking about their schooling? Their interests? Yeesh.
Hwa-ryeong manages to impress upon them that they absolutely must, under pain of disobedience, apply for the cohort selection of their own free will. She commands them to choose to do so! Please! The trouble is, she can’t tell them the secret of the crown prince’s condition; they’d worry too much, and give it away. A quiet word with their tutor reveals that she has reason to fear: the four princes lack drive — especially Seongnam and Gyeseong, whose truancy is legend.
Hwa-ryeong despairs. Seongnam, she’d expected, but Gyeseong? He’s supposed to be the bright one! Apparently, he’s been sneaking out on the sly — so, really, the only logical thing to do is to follow covertly. Hwa-ryeong, accompanied by the loyal (and long-suffering) COURT LADY SHIN (Park Joon-myun), shadows her son as he wanders through the lesser-trodden areas of the palace. He enters a tumbledown building, overgrown and abandoned. Here, Hwa-ryeong and Court Lady Shin take it in turns to peer at him through a gap in the door — and gasp.
Hwa-ryeong stumbles through the palace in anguish. Crying in panic, she flings herself into the one hiding place that has never failed her — the one place Court Lady Shin has always known to find her — a broom closet where she can cry undisturbed. Whatever she saw, it terrifies her to the extent that she fears for Gyeseong’s life. Court Lady Shin cries too; she wishes the queen would stop telling her her secrets. But then, who else could Hwa-ryeong tell?
Meanwhile, the day comes for the princes to put their names forward for cohort selection. Of the four grand princes, Muan is the first. He’s hoping to recover a little of his honor… though, he’s also hoping they won’t make the exam results public. Seongnam, truant extraordinaire, is suffering a crisis of indecision — and with half an hour to go, he doesn’t have long. He decides to seek guidance from the crown prince.
It’s a visit that opens up more questions than it answers. The crown prince is nostalgic, longing for the days when he and his brother played — and picked fights they couldn’t win — as children. Seongnam, it seems, possesses hidden depths: above all, he has always tried to protect his younger siblings. Now, the crown prince wants him to promise to do the same for his son. When Seongnam asks why his brother is so somber, the crown prince doesn’t answer. All he asks is that Seongnam joins him as part of his cohort — where maybe it can be just like the old days.
It’s the push Seongnam needs. For once, he arrives not late, but just on time, putting his name down for cohort selection. In fact, as Hwa-ryeong learns… every single one of the grand princes have applied. Delinquents they may be, but her sons have come through!
Next comes the exam. Privately, the king acknowledges that he’s not necessarily looking for academic excellence — rather, the ability to think outside the box. But, the fact remains that there’s a broad curriculum to conquer: books upon books, with more books to spare, which every single consort is determined to master. Tutors are summoned. Nosebleeds are suffered. Meanwhile, Hwa-ryeong resolves to do the heavy intellectual lifting on her children’s behalf: in the long night that follows, she takes copious notes. After all, as she tells Court Lady Shin (whilst mainlining herbal medicine) — it was hardly dumb luck and humble birth that led to her becoming queen. It was because she beat all the other candidates. Now? She’s determined not to lose.
When she presents her sons with a vast stack of crib sheets, they waver. Seongnam in particular seems mutinous: is it really fair for his mother to give his brothers false hope, considering their abilities? She catches his sleeve. Quietly, she confesses that she cannot tell him why — but he must know she is doing this to protect them.
And boy do they need protecting. CONSORT GO (Woo Jung-won), convinced that Gyeseong has found a place to study in secret, follows him during his wanderings. Like Hwa-ryeong, she peers through the doorway. Like Hwa-ryeong, she gasps. Inside is Gyeseong, wearing makeup.
An interesting couple of episodes! So, first of all, the good: I’m really happy to see a drama revolving around the dreaming and scheming of women in the royal palace. The queen or concubine who’s determined to promote her son is a classic sageuk trope, and it delights me how this show has chosen to humanize it. I like dramas where I can understand where everyone is coming from — hero and villain alike — and this one picks out everyone’s motives in beautiful detail.
At heart, it’s all about survival in a cutthroat court: for our heroine, sure, but also for the vicious Consort Hwang. At the end of the day, they’re both trying to preserve their position for the sake of their family. I love the evidence we see of our heroine weighing her options and choosing to be ruthless, without being vilified by the narrative.
However, let’s address the elephant in the room: queerphobia. Already, the Gyeo-seong cross-dressing plotline has hit some unpleasant beats: most memorably, his mother falling apart and nearly vomiting at the sight of him in makeup. I’m sure the writers would argue this is a period-typical reaction, not a statement the show is making, but that ignores the fact that it’s a common transphobic trope. The dramatic build-up, the ominous music… it all feels pretty insulting. Moreover, if it turns out that the character is a trans woman, then I’m unimpressed by the fact that they cast a male actor. It’s not a great start, but I’m really hoping they do better next week. I’d like to see them be truly committed to queer visibility, rather than utilizing it for shock value.
So, all in all? A mixed bag. An intriguing mixed bag nonetheless. This drama is really compelling, and I’m already attached to the characters. It’s a huge cast, but they’ve used bold strokes to depict each of them. Hwa-ryeong, with all her stubbornness and drive, is a wonderful protagonist, and I can’t wait to see how she develops — especially when pushed into a corner. For all that her situation is desperate, it seems that pressure is where she thrives.