‘The Art of Sarah’ series review: Shin Hye-sun and Lee Jun-hyuk lead a glossy tale of intrigue

What makes luxury worth its price tag? Is it the deliberate elusiveness with which a brand positions its handbag, or the longing that follows once you glimpse the shimmer of diamonds on the red carpet? There is also a relentless digital showcase to contend with, of designer hauls, private jets and gateways in what seems like the most opulent corners of paradise.

Netflix’s latest thriller, The Art of Sarah, positions itself in the thick of all the drama this world has to offer. There are easy investments of billions being made, nobody cares to check if a brand has indeed served the ‘British Royals’ for a century, and even amidst the upper echelons of society, there is a strict hierarchy to be followed.

Shin Hae-sun in ‘The Art of Sarah’

As people queue up at a shopping hub in Seoul on a cold winter morning, awaiting a brand’s latest drop, a body is discovered in a sewer. Detective Park Mu-gyeong (Lee Jun-hyuk) is soon put on the case, and the body is initially identified as that of Sarah Kim (Shin Hye-sun), the regional head of luxury brand Boudoir.

This is no straightforward open-and-shut case, and as detective Mu-gyeong soon discovers, Sarah’s shadowy life is far from easy to decode. Sarah, as it turns out, seemingly burst into the luxury market scene from nowhere and created an enviable range of bags that soon became a prized asset. She has a sprawling storefront and a growing list of enemies. Mu-gyeong pieces together what happened to Sarah through the accounts of a former employee, a friend and business partner, a possible love interest, and an ex-husband. Her story and identity shift with each new perspective. With each recollection of her past, you are left wondering — who really is Sarah Kim?

Peel back the layers, and once the gloss fades, we begin to see the other end of the spectrum within the thriving luxury industry. In The Art of Sarah, the industry is one in which sales representatives are routinely denied bathroom breaks and forced to pay out of their pockets if shoplifting goes undetected. And the only rest areas are cramped corridors tucked away at the back of a glittering store where they lie down with their feet up against a wall for a precious few minutes.

The social commentary the show has to offer is wedged between a whodunit and some slow-burning thrills as we navigate the many identities of Sarah. Netflix’s binge-format works best here: the writing remains even from start to finish, and every episode ends on a cliffhanger. We sit through repeated interrogations and testimonies once Mu-gyeong and Sarah begin a cat-and-mouse game in a race against time, and yet, it does not feel monotonous. In a true testament to good writing (credit to Chu Song-yeon), the twists actually land and are unpredictable for the most part.

Lee Jun-hyuk in ‘The Art of Sarah’
| Photo Credit:
Netflix

An impeccably styled Shin Hae-sun plays Sarah and her many other personas with an unsettling ease, managing to strike a balance between obnoxiously confident and vulnerable. She finds a worthy opponent in Lee Jun-hyuk’s earnest Mu-gyeong, who has to face off against her many machinations and an irritable boss who is out to ensure he does not have it easy on the case. We learn little about Mu-gyeong beyond his involvement in Sarah’s case, and that feels fitting. In this world of murky gloss, there is little room for him except as an outsider, compelled to wade into it all for the wrong reasons.

The Art of Sarah is one of those rare K-dramas that manages to hold your attention well past the halfway mark. We have grown all too familiar with plotlines (and logic) being thrown to the wind. Here, the world of haute couture, with its social climbers and vulnerable collateral, holds a ton of intrigue.

The Art of Sarah is currently streaming on Netflix