A TONY Award-winning play. The finale of a record-breaking Netflix show. And a long-awaited reunion of arguably the world’s biggest pop band.
South Korean culture is having a moment – again.
In May, Maybe Happy Ending clinched the Tony Award for best musical, adding a new art form to South Korea’s growing list of international cultural successes. It followed the Oscar-winning film Parasite in 2020 and novelist Han Kang’s Nobel Prize in Literature last year.
K-pop is booming too. The last member of BTS has completed mandatory military service, raising hopes of a reunion. Blackpink, meanwhile, is launching a new world tour, kicking off with a show near Seoul.
On screen, the third season of Squid Game dropped on Netflix in June – the final instalment of a show whose debut season shattered viewership records.
And the so-called Korean Wave – or Hallyu – shows no signs of ebbing. Interest in all things Korean, from cosmetics to cuisine, continues to surge around the globe.
Global phenomenon?
Experts trace Hallyu back to the late 1990s, when South Korean soap operas found success in China and Japan. The rise of the Internet helped these exports spread farther afield.
In 2012, Psy’s Gangnam Style – complete with its quirky horse-riding dance – became the first YouTube video to surpass one billion views, bringing global attention to K-pop.
But it was BTS – seven stylish young men who rap, sing and dance in synchrony – that catapulted K-pop into the mainstream.
During the pandemic, they broke Guinness World Records for streams of hits like Dynamite and Butter.
Long before K-dramas lit up international screens, South Korea’s tight restrictions on Hollywood films helped grow a robust domestic cinema industry.
The Busan International Film Festival, launched in 1996, quickly became one of Asia’s premier showcases. Director Park Chan-wook’s Oldboy – a dark revenge thriller – won the Grand Prix at Cannes in 2004.
Then came Squid Game, which premiered in 2021 and became a global sensation. It sparked widespread debate and remains Netflix’s most-watched show ever.
“Squid Game created a cultural zeitgeist,” said Minyoung Kim, Netflix’s vice-president of content in Asia.
Cultural superpower?
Many experts believe K-culture has fully broken into the global mainstream.
But there’s debate over whether it matches the cultural heft of countries like the United States, France, Italy or Japan – long associated with cuisine, cinema, fashion and lifestyle.
There are geopolitical barriers too.
Following a 2016 row over the deployment of a US missile system in South Korea, China imposed an unofficial ban on K-pop acts.
In North Korea, even South Korean slang is banned, with leader Kim Jong-un calling such cultural imports a threat to his regime.
South Korea’s cultural exports still account for a small slice of their respective global markets. And some question whether the current wave has already peaked or has long-term staying power.
K-pop’s success, for example, hasn’t yet shaped other musical genres, said Andrew Eungi Kim, a cultural studies professor at Korea University. Still, its appeal is undeniable – and contagious.
The popularity of K-dramas and pop idols often sparks wider interest in South Korean lifestyle, from food and fashion to language and skincare.
“People used to think of Hallyu as entertainment,” said Cha Woo-jin, a music critic in Seoul. “But now, it’s a lifestyle.”
The next frontier
South Korean celebrities are widely envied for their flawless skin, and their meticulous skincare routines have become aspirational for young consumers abroad.
Korean cosmetics exports surged nearly 21% to a record US$10.2bil in 2024, according to government figures – surpassing French makeup exports to the United States.
South Korea is now the world’s third-largest cosmetics exporter, after France and the United States.
Lyla Kim, who works for Seoul-based beauty brand TirTir, said its sales nearly doubled to about US$300mil last year after its cushion foundation went viral on TikTok.
What about K-food?
From spicy noodles to seaweed rolls, Korean food is making its own waves.
Viral videos of kimbap – seaweed-wrapped rice stuffed with meat, fish or vegetables – have led to shortages at American grocery stores.
Samyang Foods, maker of Buldak ultra-spicy instant noodles, said exports have quadrupled in recent years.
Overall Korean agricultural food exports hit a record US$2.48bil in the first quarter of 2024, up nearly 10% from a year earlier.
Korean cuisine has also had a Netflix boost: Culinary Class Wars, released in September, pitted 80 working-class “black spoon” chefs against 20 renowned professionals – and captured global attention.
It may only be a matter of time before Korean staples like bibimbap – a colourful bowl of rice, vegetables, meat and fermented chilli paste – are seen as familiar and beloved as pizza, sushi or tacos, said Choi Jung-yoon, a chef and head of food research at non-profit organisation Nanro.
“K-pop and K-dramas may have led to the interest in South Korean food,” said Choi.
“But it’s K-food that will carry Korea’s cultural legacy into the future.” — ©2025 The New York Times Company
This article originally appeared in The New York Times
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