※ This review contains spoilers.
Netflix
The finale made up to the expectations. There were a few points that disappointed me a bit, but overall, it was quite satisfying. When Dong-eun was smiling and enjoying herself with Joo Yeo-jeong in the final episode, I quickly checked the timeline. Relieved, I realized it wasn’t over yet. I almost thought it had ended so abruptly.
1. Hyeon-nam Staying by Dong-eun’s Side Until the End
I was so nervous whenever Hyeon-nam seemed like she might betray Dong-eun midway through. I’m grateful she remained part of the victim’s alliance until the very end. I loved the moment she wore the bold red lipstick and played spy. I was glad the show didn’t go for the cliché of betrayal.
2. Are the Righteous Truly Righteous?
The beginning of The Glory—with the apple, the snake, and that haunting BGM—inevitably evokes Adam and Eve and the forbidden fruit. It makes me ask: who is truly responsible for creating this mess?
I often think that, fundamentally, the fault lies with “God.” How dare an “absolute being” create the world in such a flawed way? Even with Adam and Eve—He tempts them with the forbidden fruit. Is it truly righteous for a so-called absolute being to dig a trap and wait slyly? Testing them but demanding they not sin—was that the right way? Wouldn’t it have been better if there had been no forbidden fruit to begin with? Or no evil at all? What kind of parent tests their child like this? What kind of lover tests their partner this way? That’s why I believe God was wrong. This is also why I don’t like Catholic doctrine. To me, it makes more sense to say: live with discipline, live rightly, cultivate body and mind. At least the gods of Greek mythology are more honest in their fickleness. They are erratic, unethical, and cruel, and humanity—created in their image—is just as broken. That feels more believable.
3. What Remains After Revenge?
Dong-eun delivers the punishments that the law failed to enforce. The victims themselves take revenge. This is the revenge we all secretly wish for. The law never delivers proper justice. The law is too lenient, too skewed in favor of the perpetrators—the rich, the powerful, the corrupt. Just compare the punishment for stealing food because you’re hungry to the punishment for embezzlement or fraud. White-collar crime is treated more lightly than crimes of survival. It’s absurd. That’s why people dream of personal revenge. I think of it too. I imagine punishments beyond “legal” or “ethical” boundaries. Those who dared destroy another’s soul—how could they be forgiven so easily?
So I understand Dong-eun. I understand the victims who felt they had no choice but to deliver justice with their own hands. And yet, when Dong-eun’s revenge was complete, all that remained was bitterness. Why did her tormentors become monsters in the first place? Why were they never punished properly and allowed to grow into worse people? Is the juvenile law only about protecting young offenders from “red marks” on their records, or does it actually allow greater evils to grow unchecked?
The most satisfying act of revenge was when Dong-eun placed her mother in a shelter. Returning the wounds inflicted under the guise of “family” with the same weapon—family. It was the most moral and the most cathartic act of revenge. Everything else lacked catharsis. Dong-eun simply became another villain. She schemed, she manipulated, she induced evil acts, and she directly participated in crime. The result? Kyung-ran, Joo Yeo-jeong, Ha Do-yeong, Hyeon-nam, and even Dong-eun herself—all became villains.
And that’s why the idea of “hope” at the end is so tragic.
“Clinging to something irreversible only causes more loss.”
“How many things do you think can actually be restored?
That person only wishes to be a little less unhappy than before.”
Ha Do-yeong thinks this way because he was never in Dong-eun’s shoes. Joo Yeo-jeong supports her revenge precisely because he has been in her shoes.
That desire to be “a little less unhappy.” I support that. If someone says, “I feel relieved after revenge. I don’t regret it. I’ve found peace,” I’d support that too. But I cannot believe happiness awaits at the end of such revenge.
The Weight of Sin
Kyung-ran kills Son Myeong-o, delivering a final blow as he begs for his life. Murder. Dong-eun tells Kyung-ran to carry the weight of that liquor bottle for the rest of her life. But does Dong-eun really have the right to make such a decree? Is she some god incarnate? Does she have the authority to decide whether to cover up the truth for Yeon-jin’s downfall?
Yeo-jeong and Dong-eun manipulate evidence to frame Yeon-jin. Did that feel cathartic? To me, not at all.
Kyung-ran might have suffered school bullying and sexual assault from Son Myeong-o. Even so, killing him was nothing but murder. Instead of striking back at those crimes, she chose to become a killer. She escaped justice, just like her abuser once did. In killing Son Myeong-o, her humanity was lost. Another Yeon-jin was born. That, to me, is the tragedy of Dong-eun’s revenge.
Ha Do-yeong kills Jeon Jae-jun by pushing him, his body buried in concrete. He, too, commits murder and walks away unscathed. Isn’t that the same as Yeon-jin killing So-hee and getting away with it? Another Yeon-jin was born.
Dong-eun orchestrates the death of Hyeon-nam’s husband. Just because she didn’t strike the blow herself, does that absolve her? If using another’s hands means no guilt, then how is contract killing wrong? Dong-eun guided the death of Hyeon-nam’s husband, just as she guided Jae-jun’s downfall.
“Was it wrong to lead them into it?” Yes, it was. Just like God leading Eve to sin with the forbidden fruit was wrong. Setting traps and then blaming the sinner is absurd. It was premeditated murder and complicity. Complicity is still a crime.
By that logic, Dong-eun is also a criminal who must be punished. The same goes for Hyeon-nam. Her retaliation should have been against her husband’s abuse—not arranging his murder. No matter how much the law fails to protect us, murder by proxy means losing yourself. The human becomes a demon. And so, tragically, every main character in this drama becomes corrupted, destroying even their own souls.
Dong-eun’s guilt only grows with Jae-jun’s death. She hands Hye-jung the drugs that worsen his eye pressure. Just because Hye-jung carried out the act doesn’t make Dong-eun innocent. If avoiding dirtying your own hands frees you from sin, then anyone can justify evil. That cannot be right.
That’s why I believe this story cannot end with hope.
Even if I cheer for Dong-eun emotionally, her sins remain. Her story should have ended on that rooftop. She should have withered away under the weight of her own crimes. That’s what I believe.
Five villains—the homeroom teacher, the police, Dong-eun’s mother, Yeon-jin’s mother, and Yeon-jin herself—stole Dong-eun’s youth at 19. They sinned first. Dong-eun punished them directly. But ironically, she walks away free of her own crimes. That is the ultimate unfairness. Her life was ruined by them, and their lives ruined by her. But that doesn’t reset the scales. No, it doesn’t. As Dong-eun said herself, “there must be no glory.”
The joy your soul felt in every cruel moment.
There will be no forgiveness.
There will be no glory.
It’s a bitter tale. We have no means to punish demons who destroy another’s soul. “Even heaven turns a blind eye.” That’s why we tell such stories. To punish with our own hands is both revenge against them and self-destruction. Nothing remains at the end of revenge. To kill another is to kill yourself.
I only hope Dong-eun carries the full weight of her sins for the rest of her life. Only then can she truly be different from her tormentors. Only by never forgetting can she remain unlike Yeon-jin. That’s why I hope her life stays heavy with suffering.
4. School Violence
There must be no forgiveness. The law is far too lenient on perpetrators. I believe they destroy souls. And destroying a soul should demand equal retribution. Foolish children may commit cruel acts, but how do you restore a shattered soul?
There should be no world where wrongdoers live well. That requires our strength. A world where victims are protected. A world where perpetrators live with their heads down. That is what we can do for all the Dong-euns of this world. In that sense, The Glory was a good drama. Those who destroy human souls should never live joyfully. Let them suffer, let them writhe in agony. If there is an afterlife, may they spend eternity being devoured by demons. May their hell never end.
And so, I hope that So-hee, Dong-eun, and Kyung-ran in this world will not shrink back. I hope they will shout out, even if it seems futile. Someone will hear. Someone will remember. Someone will despise the perpetrators. And at the same time, I hope victims will grow stronger. So-hee, in the end, told Yeon-jin she wasn’t afraid of her anymore.
May the solidarity of victims always be stronger than the solidarity of perpetrators.