I'm Not Crying, It's Raining
Discussing "Under the Queen's Umbrella" - and crying
Series Stats
Under the Queen’s Umbrella
Directed by: Kim Hyung-sik
Written by: Park Ba-ra
Starring: Kim Hye-soo, Kim Hae-sook, Choi Won-young
Released: October 2022
Episodes: 16
Rating: 4/5
I chose Under the Queen’s Umbrella because I thought it would be a light-hearted family show set in the Joseon period. I was incorrect — and I am happy for that error because it led to watching this beautiful show.
Under the Queen’s Umbrella is a fictional Korean drama series set in the Joseon dynasty (sometime between 1392 and 1897 AD). Weaving between several key characters, the series tells the story of three generations within the Korean royal family.
The titular queen (Kim Hye-soo) has 5 sons, including the crown prince: a talented scholar and affectionate brother. Her younger sons have enjoyed lives of indulgence, never putting much thought into their education or royal duties. When the crown prince falls ill, it is up to the queen to whip her children into shape, before one of the king’s (Choi Won-young) eight concubines seizes the opportunity to put her own son on the throne.
Amid that main story, we get to know the queen’s intimidating mother-in-law, the queen dowager (Kim Hae-sook). She is a powerful player, working among the concubines and court officials to achieve her political goals. Over the 16 episodes, we also spend time with the queen’s other four sons, watching them learn the realities of Joseon life, traveling from their palace cushions to the dirt of hut villages.
From here on, we’ll be in spoiler territory! I won’t discuss every plot point or reveal the series finale, but I have to reveal some secrets to discuss my favorite parts of the show.
I loved Under the Queen’s Umbrella for its moving depictions of the love between parents and children — especially between mothers and sons. The show covers not just the positive love expressed by the queen but also touches on the greedy, manipulative, and conditional forms love can take.
The taekhyeon
The main plot of Under the Queen’s Umbrella is the taekhyeon1, a method for choosing a new crown prince based solely on ability, regardless of birth status (i.e.: if their mother is the queen, a high-born consort, or a low-born consort). It is the vehicle through which the writers discuss the different types of motherly love.
Royal Consort Tae demonstrates greedy or ambitious love. Her son, Prince Bogeom, is the most book-smart of the princes, even though his mother was a maid when the king noticed her. Bogeom has the intelligence to be King, but not the heritage. In an attempt to show her son she’s more than just a maid, Consort Tae lets her ambitions run wild. She agrees to fulfill any request in exchange for secret education techniques known only to the queen dowager. When the dowager later reveals that she only supported Bogeom to hinder the other princes, she calls in Tae’s promise, making her remove Bogeom’s name from the taekhyeon. In the end, Tae’s ambitions cost Bogeom his confidence and happiness, instead of earning him the throne.
One of the saddest stories in the show occurs between Royal Consort Ko and her son Prince Simso. He is a middling prince — more studious than the grand princes but not as intelligent as Bogeom or ambitious as Uiseong. His mother, however, is one of the most ambitious concubines in the show. Ko pushes her son to strive for the throne, whether he wants it or not. When her son returns to the palace, malnourished and injured after bandits stole his posessions, she refuses to let him enter. Ko says she would rather he return victorious or not at all.
One of the saddest moments of the 16 episodes is when Simso says receiving his mother’s skirt decoration — her attempt to keep him in the competition by offering him a valuable to sell — is the only gift she’s ever given him. Simso is saved from self-destruction by the queen, who teaches Ko to accept her son’s limits and love him as he is.
I am glad Consort Ko is redeemed — she and Tae became two of my favorite characters once they reformed. My only complaint is that it happened so fast. I wish the show had spent more time with her and Prince Simso renewing their relationship. Her growth from conditional love to unconditional could have been even more moving with additional breathing room.
The two main take-aways from the competition are 1) wanting the best for your child is not the same as understanding what your child wants, and 2) you earn truer allies with love than with threats and empty promises. All of the mothers learn that their children are more precious to them than power is. They all fight to unseat the queen and to assure their sons’ success, but they are lucky in the end that their sons are simply alive and happy. Even the queen discovers that three of her four sons are uninterested in the competition. Only Prince Uiseong truly wants to be King, and he is the prince least suited to rule. His mother and the queen Dowager manipulate everything in his favor, making him entitled and cruel to anyone who acts against him.
The queen dowager uses every political trick in the book to get powerful people on her side. She threatens and entreats officials to tutor Prince Uiseong, to give him the fastest route in the competition, and to score him highest in political debates. In spite of these efforts, the queen is victorious at almost every turn. She learns what the people around her need to be happy, and she works with them to achieve mutual successes. In the end, she wins over all but a handful of the queen’s agents, just by being kind and attentive.
The queen dowager
Genuinely fearsome, the queen dowager is exactly the person you do not want as a mother-in-law. She is controlling, manipulative, and — worst of all — popular with your frenemies.
I want to give the queen dowager her own section because she is a powerhouse in this story. Literally, she kicks off the inciting incident 20 years before the first episode even begins. She is well written, and her acting ranges from subtle expressions to booming retorts. You never doubt that she utterly believes in everything she does. I thought, “if I were in this palace with her, I probably wouldn’t make it.”
The truth is, the queen dowager sacrificed her eldest son to put her youngest in power. For reasons unclear to me, her eldest was taken from her and given to the then-queen to raise as the crown prince. And then, in an act of revenge designed to make herself the queen, she murdered her eldest child. And she doesn’t regret a bit of it. Even to the end.
The queen dowager is a mother who cannot let her children live their own lives. She must have a hand in everything they do. Even once her son is King, she expects to guide every decision, either directly or through the court officials. She has no doubt that the king will follow her suggestion to make Prince Uiseong the next crown prince. And she never doubts that her supporters will bend to her promises and threats. Not until the very end does she lose faith in her power, when the queen has won enough support to unmask the queen dowager in front of the king.
Eventually, the king decides to reveal the truth of his ascension, putting his legacy on the line in the name of justice. He is a good man; his mother is not a good woman. He punishes her poetically, sentencing her to seclusion for the rest of her life. As Queen Dowager, she received daily visits from her family, court officials, and the royal consorts. Everyone wanted her guidance and support. Now she would have nothing — no strings to pull or people to play against each other.
In the end, the queen dowager rejects even her son’s final order. Instead of acquiescing, and quietly passing the torch to the next generation, she poisons herself. Her final words are “no one can punish me.” This sentiment is true, but with the weight of her choices, she might as well have said “no one can love me.”
Prince Gyeseong
Prince Gyeseong’s theme touches on one of the greatest struggles in my life — prioritizing your happiness over your family. And I don’t mean going against your family’s wishes. Gyeseong’s family truly support him. The tragedy is that he cannot stay with his loving family and be happy.
I shouldn’t say Prince Gyeseong’s family support him because not all of them know his secret, but those that do know him, love him. Gyeseong is likely what we would today consider transgender. He is often described as a woman living in a man’s body.2 Given the setting, this trait is unforgivable: it would be considered a stain on his family and a crime punishable by death.
In the end of the series, Prince Gyeseong’s brothers point out that he often paints birds, but the birds always have their wings folded. They’re sitting still on branches, never flying. After reflecting on this moment, Gyeseong meets with his mother and tells her he plans to leave the palace and live truly as himself. Without saying the words, she knows he plans to live as a woman.
Earlier in the show, the queen discovered his hiding place, where he applied make-up and dressed in women’s clothing. To protect her son from a cruel plot, the queen burned his precious hiding place and everything inside. As an apology, the queen commissions a portrait of Gyeseong in female clothing, including her own favorite hairpin as an accessory. For the entire show, that painting was all Prince Gyeseong had to connect with the person he wanted to be. And by the end, both the characters and the audience know that he cannot live as a prince and be his true self. He must choose between the two. And it broke my heart to watch him leave.
I don’t disagree with the character’s choice. What makes me sad is to imagine trading my family for my happiness. I can’t imagine a world where I could pursue happiness without my family. Gyeseong is remarkably brave to choose a life of wandering alone as a woman instead of a life with his family as a man. I am glad the show includes a moment where the queen opens paintings from Gyeseong’s travels to see a young woman enjoying beautiful travels.
As I watched the show, I honestly wasn’t sure if I would be able to choose as Gyeseong did — to choose the harder path, trusting that the benefit will be greater.
Under the Queen’s Umbrella is a complicated story. It touches on themes of motherhood, family duties, and personal freedoms. I am a sucker for stories about children and their parents, and this show hits all the right buttons.
I definitely recommend Under the Queen’s Umbrella for anyone wanting a period piece, a family drama, a murder mystery, a political thriller, or a love story. This show has more than I could ever cover here.
Some of the Korean words and names have different spellings between Netflix and other sources. I’m using the spellings as I remember them from the series’ subtitles.
I debated called Gyeseong “he” or “she” here. In the show, he never changes his name or pronouns, or asks his mother to call him “daughter” instead of “son.” Since it is unclear, I have stuck with the masculine.
I didn't read the whole thing because spoilers... but I have added this to my watchlist because it sounds incredible!!!!!
Also love the writing!