Tired of Explicit TV? A Catholic Case for Korean Drama
- Sheryl Tirol
- 10 minutes ago
- 6 min read

I recently viewed the Korean drama, “Lovely Runner,” which took me on an emotional rollercoaster through its tale of a fan traveling through time to save her Korean pop idol's life and change both their destinies. Across 16 episodes, I laughed, raged and bawled my eyes out, and I did so without sitting through a single gratuitous sex scene or shock-value violence.
This is the promise of Korean drama, and it's why many consumers are increasingly turning to K-dramas as an alternative to the explicit content dominating Western streaming platforms.
The numbers tell the story. South Korea accounts for 85 titles (17%) of the top 500 most popular non-U.S. shows and films on Netflix. Korean dramas are leading the charge with this boost. Prime Video and Viki have followed suit, streaming dozens of Korean series to American audiences hungry for something different.
What they're finding isn't just entertainment. It's formation.
The Dignity Difference
"Lovely Runner," available on Viki, follows Im Sol (Kim Hye Yoon), a young woman devastated by the death of her favorite K-pop idol, Ryu Sun Jae (Byun Woo Seok). Through time travel, she returns to 2008 to prevent his tragic fate and discovers that he had known her all along.
The 16-episode series wraps in one season, typical for Korean dramas. What's atypical by Western standards is everything else.
A few episodes in, viewers celebrate when Sol and Sun Jae hold hands. The physical restraint isn't prudish — it's purposeful. St. John Paul II's Theology of the Body teaches that the body reveals the person and speaks a language of self-gift. The slow development of their relationship embodies this truth. Physical affection carries weight precisely because it hasn't been cheapened.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that every person possesses transcendent dignity and represents the ultimate end of society, which is ordered to them (CCC 1929). The Church has long warned against media that reduces persons, especially women, to objects. In "Lovely Runner," these characters see and honor the image of God in one another.
Sun Jae protects Sol. He respects her boundaries. He's strong but sensitive, a model of masculinity that serves rather than dominates. Neither character crosses inappropriate lines, and both remain mindful of how their choices affect their families and community.
In one scene, they fall asleep on a couch watching a movie. Sol's brother discovers them, triggering a series of comedic mishaps. Western audiences might shrug, but the cultural context matters. Dignity and propriety remain highly valued in Korean society. The scene acknowledges this without becoming preachy.
Finding God in All Things
St. Ignatius of Loyola taught that God can be found in all things when we approach them with intentionality and discernment. K-dramas model this principle in their storytelling, especially in this show. Every scene serves a purpose. Nothing is thrown in carelessly or exploitatively.
"Lovely Runner" explores themes that resonate with Catholic teaching: the sanctity of life, the reality of free will, the consequences of our choices and the eternal nature of love. Sol's attempts to save Sun Jae from death fail repeatedly, each intervention carrying severe consequences. The writers refuse easy answers to complex questions about fate and human agency.
The show also challenges viewers to slow down. How often do we move through life so quickly that we miss the people God places in our path? Sol learns that Sun Jae knew her in high school and carried her in his heart for years. She was too distracted to notice.
The show also delves into sacrificial love. Sol and Sun Jae's friend, Kim Tae Sung, emerges as another hero in the story. Throughout the series, his younger self was portrayed as the "bad boy" Sol originally liked before she traveled back in time. The wisdom she gives Kim Tae Sung when she returns to her younger self influences him and alters his future as well. While he develops real feelings for her, he ultimately knows her heart is with Sun Jae and chooses to do the right thing, despite not "getting the girl" in the end. His arc echoes a deeply Catholic understanding of love, not as possession or self-gratification, but as willing the good of another, even at a personal cost. In choosing Sol's happiness over his own desires, Kim Tae Sung embodies the self-giving love that stands at the heart of Christian virtue.
Beauty, Truth and Goodness
The Catholic intellectual tradition teaches that beauty, truth and goodness, the transcendentals, point us toward God. "Lovely Runner" succeeds because it refuses to sacrifice any of these for cheap thrills.
The beauty is evident in the cinematography, with its careful framing of each scene and attention to color and light. The truth emerges in authentic human emotions of grief, hope, sacrifice and joy. The goodness shines through characters who strive to do right, even when it costs them everything.
This isn't unique to one series. Netflix's "Bon Appétit, Your Majesty" follows a similar pattern. Set during Korea's Joseon era, another time-travel romance balances comedy, drama and authentic emotion without resorting to exploitation.
The pattern holds across the genre. While not every Korean drama is wholesome, the cultural approach differs fundamentally from Western content. The goal isn't shock value but authentic experience.
A Countercultural Choice
Western television has normalized explicit content to the point where viewers barely register it. Many shows in the U.S. and Europe feature intimate scenes by the second or third episode. Violence escalates. Language coarsens. The envelope keeps getting pushed.
The defense is always the same: "It's realistic." "It serves the story." "Art reflects life."
But "Lovely Runner" proves these claims hollow. Good writing and character development can succeed without explicit content. The show's emotional impact comes from earned moments, careful pacing and respect for its audience.
Catholic families face constant pressure to compromise values for entertainment. The choice has seemed binary: consume what everyone else watches or retreat into a narrow band of "safe" content.
Korean dramas offer a third way. They're sophisticated, well-produced and globally successful. While not all follow this formula, many maintain standards that align with more family-based values. They demonstrate that appealing to the lowest common denominator isn't necessary for commercial success.
Forming a Catholic Imagination
Pope Francis often spoke of creating a "culture of encounter," spaces where we truly see one another and recognize the sacred in ordinary life. “Lovely Runner” does exactly this.
They show love as patient and sacrificial rather than consumptive. They portray family bonds as complex but ultimately redemptive. They wrestle with suffering without wallowing in nihilism. They allow hope without veering into sentimentality.
This matters for formation. Children and teens who grow up on content that treats sex casually and violence entertainingly develop warped understandings of human dignity. They internalize messages about what bodies are for, what relationships should look like and what constitutes love.
Adults aren't immune. We become desensitized slowly, accepting as normal what would have shocked us years earlier. Our capacity for outrage dulls. Our sense of the sacred erodes.
St. Ignatius taught that we should approach media with discernment, asking: Does this draw me closer to God or further away? Does it help me see others as Christ sees them? Does it feed my better nature or my worse impulses?
By these standards, much Western content fails. Many Korean dramas, such as “Lovely Runner” pass.
The Bigger Picture
The rise of Korean drama in America represents more than a shift in entertainment preferences. It reveals a hunger for stories that elevate rather than degrade, that challenge rather than pander, that respect viewers enough to trust their intelligence.
Catholic families seeking entertainment that forms rather than deforms need not choose between being bored and being scandalized. Korean dramas remind us that great storytelling can inspire, move and challenge us without compromising our dignity or values.
As I finished the final episode of "Lovely Runner," tears streaming down my face, I realized I had experienced something increasingly rare: a story that treated its characters and its audience as souls, not consumers.
That's not just good entertainment. In a culture that often reduces love to consumption and persons to objects, it's prophetic.
Perhaps this is what Catholics mean when we talk about renewing the culture. We don't need to create a separate genre of "Christian content." We need to recognize and support excellent storytelling wherever it emerges, stories that honor the transcendentals, respect human dignity and invite us into authentic encounter.
Korean dramas won't solve all the problems with modern media. But they offer something increasingly precious: a vision of entertainment that treats viewers as more than mere eyeballs to monetize, one that sees the human person as made in the image of God and that remembers stories exist to illuminate truth, not obscure it.
In a world that often forgets these things, that's worth celebrating.
And worth watching.





