Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins [ Deep Korean Insight Guide]

Table of Contents

Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins And Why The World Still Cares

When Koreans talk about Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins, we are not just talking about a drama that aired in 2020. We are talking about a modern folk tale of resistance that somehow escaped the TV screen and embedded itself into daily language, youth culture, and even small-business branding. As a Korean, I see Itaewon Class quoted in job interviews, graduation speeches, café interior concepts, and even protest slogans. For global fans, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins feels like a universal story of perseverance. For Koreans, it is a very specific, very local story about what it means to challenge chaebol power, rigid school hierarchy, and social prejudice.

The phrase Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins captures the drama’s core fantasy: that an ex-convict high school dropout, Park Sae‑ro‑yi, can defeat a food conglomerate worth trillions of won using nothing but stubborn integrity, a ragtag team in a tiny bar called Danbam, and the multicultural, sleepless energy of Itaewon. It is the fantasy that the bottom 90 percent of Korean society secretly nurtures while commuting on crowded subways and working late in open-plan offices.

Since its original run on JTBC from January 31 to March 21, 2020, and its simultaneous release on Netflix, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins has become shorthand in Korea for any story where the powerless outplay the powerful without compromising their values. Whenever a small restaurant beats a famous chain, or an indie musician tops mainstream charts, Korean comments often say, “This is real-life Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins.” The drama’s line “내 꿈은 복수다” (My dream is revenge) became a meme, but so did its quieter message: “Everyone has the right to live according to their convictions.”

In this in-depth guide, I will unpack Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins from a Korean perspective: how the story reflects real social tensions, why Koreans reacted so strongly to specific scenes, and how this one drama still shapes conversations about class, youth, and identity more than four years later, including new trends and references that keep resurfacing in 2024–2025.

Snapshot Of Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins: What Truly Stands Out

Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins is built on a classic revenge plot, but the revenge is slow, methodical, and entrepreneurial. Park Sae‑ro‑yi does not seek instant violence; he builds a business empire over 15 years to crush Jangga Co. from the market, reflecting Korean admiration for “장기전” (long-term battles).
The drama’s underdog wins theme is embodied in Danbam’s team: an ex-convict, a transgender chef, a former gang member, a high-school genius, and a biracial Korean. Each character’s marginalization mirrors real Korean social prejudices, making their collective success feel like a victory for all outsiders.
Itaewon, historically known to Koreans as a foreigner district with US military presence, becomes the perfect symbolic battlefield for Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins. The setting allows the drama to frame diversity and difference as business strengths rather than weaknesses.
The main antagonist, Jang Dae‑hee, is not just a villain; he personifies the ruthless chaebol culture that many Koreans resent but feel powerless to fight. Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins is wish fulfillment: a small business humiliates a conglomerate chairman on his own turf.
The OST, especially songs like “시작” (Start) by Gaho, turned Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins into an emotional anthem for exam takers, job seekers, and startup founders. The chorus “이제 시작이야” (Now it’s the beginning) became a motivational catchphrase.
The webtoon origin gives Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins a slightly exaggerated, stylized tone that Koreans recognize as “웹툰 감성” (webtoon sensibility), yet the details of school violence, police injustice, and nepotism feel painfully realistic.
In Korean online communities, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins is frequently compared to real underdog corporate stories, such as small franchise brands challenging older giants, showing how the drama has become a reference point for business narratives.
Even in 2024, new Itaewon cafés and pubs still design interiors reminiscent of Danbam, proving that Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins continues to influence how young Koreans imagine “successful rebellion” in real life.

How Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins Grew From Webtoon To Social Mirror

From a Korean standpoint, understanding Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins requires going back to its webtoon roots and the social climate that made its underdog fantasy so powerful. The original webtoon “이태원 클라쓰” by Jo Gwang‑jin was serialized on the platform Daum Webtoon from 2016 to 2018, during a period when Korean youth unemployment hovered around 9–10 percent for people in their 20s and public anger toward chaebol corruption was exploding. The 2016–2017 candlelight protests that led to the impeachment of President Park Geun‑hye were fueled by resentment toward the cozy ties between big business and politics. In that context, a story like Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins felt like a safe way to imagine what direct revenge against that system could look like.

When JTBC adapted the webtoon into a TV drama in 2020, Korea was entering the COVID-19 era. Itaewon, normally one of Seoul’s busiest nightlife districts, was suddenly quiet. Ironically, viewers were stuck at home watching a story about a tiny bar in Itaewon fighting to survive. According to JTBC, the drama’s final episode recorded a nationwide rating of 16.5 percent (Nielsen Korea), making it one of the highest-rated cable dramas in Korean history. On Netflix, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins quickly entered the Top 10 in multiple regions, giving the underdog story a global audience.

In Korea, the phrase Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins started appearing not just in entertainment sections but in business and opinion columns. For example, Korean media like JoongAng Ilbo and Korea Economic Daily ran analyses comparing Danbam’s growth to real-life franchise strategies. The Korean Small Business Federation referenced Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins when talking about young entrepreneurs opening pubs and cafés near universities.

The cultural context behind its characters is deeply Korean. Park Sae‑ro‑yi’s initial downfall starts with school violence and an unfair expulsion after he refuses to kneel to a bully who happens to be the son of Jangga’s chairman. Koreans immediately recognized this as a critique of “갑질” (abuse of power by those in higher status) and “학폭” (school violence), both heavily discussed issues in Korean society. Cases of school violence involving chaebol children or celebrities had been widely reported in the years before the drama aired, making Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins feel almost ripped from the headlines.

Another layer is the portrayal of Itaewon itself. Historically, Itaewon developed around the US Yongsan Garrison and became known as a place for foreigners, nightlife, and imported goods. For many older Koreans, Itaewon was associated with danger or moral looseness. Younger Koreans, however, embraced Itaewon as a symbol of openness and individuality. The drama uses this contrast deliberately: Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins positions Itaewon as the only place in Seoul where misfits can gather and turn their difference into economic strength. This makes the underdog victory not only personal but spatial: the “wrong side of town” becomes the center of a new food empire.

In the last 30–90 days, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins has resurfaced in Korean online discourse for several reasons. First, discussions around gentrification in Itaewon after the tragic 2022 Halloween crowd crush have made people rewatch the drama with a bittersweet lens. Articles on sites like The Hankyoreh and KyungHyang Shinmun reference Itaewon Class when discussing how small bars struggled post‑tragedy. Second, the recent wave of Korean dramas about startups and small businesses (for example, Start‑Up and Gaus Electronics) has led critics on Donga Ilbo and culture blogs to re-evaluate Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins as the template for “youth vs system” narratives. Third, the upcoming adaptation projects and continuous streaming popularity on Netflix keep bringing new global viewers, who then join Korean fans on forums like DC Inside and Theqoo to debate whether Sae‑ro‑yi’s business strategy is realistic.

Even in 2024–2025, Korean YouTube channels focusing on entrepreneurship and personal finance regularly use Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins as a case study. They break down Danbam’s menu, location, branding, and staffing decisions, analyzing them with real numbers. Some channels estimate that Danbam’s early revenue, based on the drama’s seating and pricing, would not be enough to grow as fast as portrayed, but they still praise the realistic depiction of grind: long hours, constant pivoting, and the mental toll of leadership.

All of this shows that Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins is no longer just a TV title; it has become a cultural shorthand for a specific Korean fantasy: that if you endure long enough, stick to your values, and bet on the right people, you can beat a rigged system from the bottom up.

Inside The Engine Of Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins: Plot, Characters, And Symbolism

To understand why Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins resonates so strongly, we need to look closely at how the plot and characters are engineered to maximize the satisfaction of seeing an underdog win in a very Korean way.

The story begins with Park Sae‑ro‑yi, a transfer student who refuses to bow to a bully, Jang Geun‑won, in class. When Geun‑won assaults a classmate, Sae‑ro‑yi punches him, only to discover that Geun‑won is the son of Jang Dae‑hee, the powerful CEO of Jangga Co., Korea’s top food conglomerate. The principal pressures Sae‑ro‑yi to kneel and apologize. He refuses, gets expelled, and his father loses his job at Jangga. Soon after, Geun‑won kills Sae‑ro‑yi’s father in a hit-and-run accident. Jang Dae‑hee covers it up. Sae‑ro‑yi attempts to kill Geun‑won and ends up in prison. This opening is crucial: Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins establishes that the system is not just unfair; it actively protects the privileged, leaving the underdog with no legal path to justice.

In prison, Sae‑ro‑yi reads about the restaurant industry and resolves to defeat Jangga through business, not murder. This is a key Korean nuance: he chooses “성공으로 복수한다” (taking revenge through success), a phrase Koreans often use when talking about overcoming bullies or exes. After his release, he works on fishing boats to save money for seven years, a detail Korean viewers recognized as a realistic depiction of how some ex-cons and high-school dropouts try to rebuild their lives. When he finally opens Danbam in Itaewon, the underdog wins narrative truly begins.

The Danbam team is carefully designed to represent marginalized groups in Korea. Jo Yi‑seo, the social media genius and future manager, is labeled a sociopath but uses her sharpness to grow the business. Ma Hyun‑yi is a transgender woman and chef, facing discrimination in the kitchen and from customers. Tony Kim, a Black-Korean character, confronts the reality that many Koreans still equate “Korean” with a specific appearance. Choi Seung‑kwon is a former gangster trying to go straight. Through them, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins expands the idea of “underdog” beyond class to gender identity, race, and criminal records.

From a Korean perspective, some of the most satisfying underdog wins are small, almost mundane scenes. For example, when Hyun‑yi competes in a cooking contest and is initially dismissed because of her transgender identity, her victory is not just personal; it is a symbolic rebuttal to real-world Korean kitchen hierarchies that are notoriously macho. When Tony is denied recognition as Korean because of his appearance, Sae‑ro‑yi’s simple line “여긴 우리 가게야, 내가 규칙이야” (This is my place; I make the rules) feels like a declaration that Danbam is a mini-society where the usual discrimination does not apply.

The corporate battle between Danbam (later IC Group) and Jangga is staged like a long war. Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins shows stock price charts, hostile takeovers, media manipulation, and boardroom votes. Koreans who follow chaebol dramas recognize the tropes, but what feels fresh here is that the hero is not a secret heir or genius lawyer; he is an ex-con with a middle-school education who learns step by step. Sae‑ro‑yi makes mistakes, trusts the wrong people, and nearly loses everything. The drama emphasizes “버티는 힘” (the strength to endure), a virtue Koreans often cite as essential for survival in a hyper-competitive society.

Symbolically, the physical growth of Danbam mirrors the underdog wins trajectory. The bar starts in a cramped, slightly dingy space. As business improves, they relocate, rebrand, and eventually become part of a larger food group. The visual transformation of the store – lighting, signage, uniforms – taps into a very Korean love of “before and after” success stories. Korean viewers are used to TV shows that renovate failing restaurants; Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins borrows that satisfaction and blends it with emotional revenge.

Even romance in Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins ties into the underdog theme. Yi‑seo is an outsider in every way: a young woman with high IQ but low emotional filters, judged as “weird” by Korean social standards. Her unrequited love for Sae‑ro‑yi is itself an underdog story, and her eventual acceptance can be read as the drama’s way of rewarding unwavering loyalty. However, many Korean viewers debated whether this romance was necessary, showing that for some, the purest form of Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins would have focused entirely on career and revenge.

The final confrontation, where Jang Dae‑hee is forced to kneel before Sae‑ro‑yi, is the ultimate inversion of the first episode. In Korean culture, kneeling is a deeply symbolic act of apology and submission. For viewers who had watched Sae‑ro‑yi refuse to kneel to injustice at the cost of everything, seeing the powerful chaebol chairman finally kneel is the clearest visual representation of Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins. It is not just that the underdog wins; it is that the entire moral hierarchy is reversed in front of everyone.

What Koreans Really See In Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins

To global viewers, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins might look like a universal story of perseverance. But Koreans notice specific cultural nuances, lines, and casting choices that deepen the underdog narrative in ways that are easy to miss from the outside.

First, the portrayal of “갑질” is extremely pointed. When Sae‑ro‑yi’s father dies and the police investigation is manipulated, Koreans immediately connected it to real cases where chaebol children received light sentences for drunk driving, assault, or drug use. News stories about “재벌 2세, 3세” (second- and third-generation chaebols) behaving badly have been constant for decades. Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins compresses that frustration into one family, the Jangs. So when Sae‑ro‑yi publicly declares that his life’s dream is to destroy Jangga, many Korean viewers felt he was speaking for them.

Second, the casting of Park Seo‑joon as Sae‑ro‑yi added another layer. Park Seo‑joon’s image in Korea has long been that of a hardworking, self-made actor rather than a scandal-prone star. His signature “버섯 머리” (mushroom haircut) in the drama became a meme, but Koreans also read it as a visual symbol of stubbornness: unfashionable, unbending, almost military-like. People joked that it looked like a prison cut that he never updated, reflecting his refusal to move on from his revenge goal. Many young men in Korea actually tried the haircut in 2020, half ironically, half as a show of solidarity with the Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins spirit.

Third, Jo Yi‑seo’s character triggered intense debate in Korea. Her ruthless, almost sociopathic approach to business – manipulating social media, exploiting trends, and openly saying she would destroy competitors – was seen by many Koreans as the dark side of the country’s startup culture. Yet, she is also the one who articulates the underdog strategy most clearly. She repeatedly says that emotion alone cannot win against capital; you need data, branding, and timing. In Korean online forums, people discussed whether Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins was secretly saying that to win as an underdog, you must be willing to be as cold as the system you fight.

Fourth, the inclusion of a transgender character, Ma Hyun‑yi, was unusually bold for a mainstream Korean cable drama at the time. While global viewers saw this as normal representation, Koreans understood how rare it was. There were debates about whether the portrayal was idealized, but many agreed that Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins used Hyun‑yi’s cooking competition arc to frame discrimination as both a social and economic loss: Jangga’s refusal to accept her talent is ultimately one reason they fall behind Danbam in innovation.

Fifth, the way Itaewon is shot and described carries unspoken meanings for Koreans. Before Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins, Itaewon was already gentrifying, with rising rents and trendy brunch spots pushing out older, grittier venues. The drama captures a moment when Itaewon still felt like a borderland between old and new, Korean and foreign. For many Korean viewers, Danbam represented the ideal Itaewon: inclusive, affordable, and authentic. After the 2022 crowd crush, some Koreans rewatched the drama with a sense of loss, noting how Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins had preserved a version of Itaewon that no longer exists in the same way.

There are also behind-the-scenes industry nuances. The writer of the webtoon, Jo Gwang‑jin, personally wrote the drama script, which is not always the case in adaptations. In Korean industry circles, this was seen as a reason why the underdog wins theme remained so consistent; the original creator protected the story’s core message from being diluted by ratings-chasing changes. JTBC, at that time, was building a reputation for risk-taking dramas like Sky Castle and The World of the Married. Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins fit their brand: socially sharp yet commercially appealing.

In the past year, Korean YouTube and podcast discussions have started to critique the drama more, asking whether Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins oversimplifies structural inequality by suggesting that one man’s perseverance can topple a conglomerate. But even in criticism, they keep using the phrase Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins as a reference point. When a small coffee chain recently gained market share against a bigger rival, a business columnist wrote, “This is not quite Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins, but it shows that niche branding can dent giants.” That shows how deeply the drama has entered Korean mental vocabulary.

Finally, Koreans understand the emotional weight of the last episode’s time jump. Seeing Sae‑ro‑yi and his team years later, walking through a polished corporate lobby instead of a cramped alley, taps into a national love of “성공 서사” (success narratives). But many also point out the subtle sadness: the original Danbam is gone, the chaotic warmth replaced by sleek minimalism. In Korean conversations, this often leads to the question: in Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins, did the underdogs truly win if they had to become part of the system they hated? That ambiguity is something Korean viewers talk about more than international fans, who often focus on the happy ending.

Measuring Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins: Comparisons, Influence, And Legacy

When Koreans compare Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins to other dramas, they often focus on how the underdog narrative is structured. Unlike many Korean series where the hero is secretly rich or highly educated, Itaewon Class insists that its protagonist’s lack of privilege is permanent. This makes its underdog wins feel harder earned and more emotionally satisfying.

Here is a simplified comparison table from a Korean viewer’s lens:

Work / Theme	Type of Underdog	How The Underdog Wins
Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins	Ex-con, dropout, social misfits vs chaebol food conglomerate	Long-term entrepreneurship, inclusive team, moral consistency, strategic acquisitions
Vincenzo	Korean-Italian consigliere vs corrupt conglomerate	Legal manipulation, violence, dark humor, quasi-superhero tactics
Start-Up	Orphaned youth vs tech industry elites	Startup competition, venture capital, coding skills, mentorship
Misaeng (Incomplete Life)	Non-elite intern vs corporate hierarchy	Incremental skill growth, networking, quiet resilience within the system
Reborn Rich	Murdered employee reborn as chaebol heir vs his own family	Time loop, insider knowledge, stock manipulation, revenge from inside

In this context, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins stands out because the hero never becomes part of the elite through birthright or magic. He becomes powerful by building something from scratch with people the system rejects. That is why small business owners in Korea love referencing this drama. Surveys by local entrepreneurship programs in 2021–2023 found that Itaewon Class was frequently named as a favorite drama among young founders, often tied with Start-Up.

The global impact of Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins is visible in how quickly non-Korean viewers picked up on its themes. On Netflix, it became one of the early “gateway” K-dramas for audiences who previously only knew romantic comedies. Social media analysis by Korean marketing firms in 2020–2021 noted that hashtags related to Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins often co-occurred with terms like “representation,” “LGBTQ,” and “startup,” showing that international viewers interpreted the underdog wins theme through their own local concerns.

In Korea, the drama’s influence can be seen in several concrete ways:

Business naming: After the drama aired, there was a noticeable increase in small pubs and cafés using “클라쓰” (Class) in their names, often combined with neighborhood names, mimicking Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins. This trend was reported in local business news sections.
Visual branding: Danbam’s warm lighting, wooden interiors, and simple but bold signage became a template. Interior design blogs in Korea explicitly labeled some designs as “이태원 클라쓰 스타일.”
Corporate storytelling: Internal brand videos for Korean companies sometimes borrow the Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins arc: a humble beginning, a big enemy, and a diverse team. It has become a narrative blueprint for “we started small but beat the odds” messages.
Education and lectures: University courses on entrepreneurship and media studies use Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins as a case study. Professors break down how narrative can influence young people’s career aspirations. Some warn that the drama romanticizes risk, while others argue it encourages necessary courage.

However, there is also a critical conversation in Korea about the limits of Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins as a model. Economists and sociologists point out that in reality, the probability of a small pub growing into a conglomerate big enough to absorb its rival is extremely low. They worry that glorifying such rare underdog wins might make youth blame themselves if they fail in an unforgiving market. Articles in Korean outlets have started using Itaewon Class as a cautionary example of “성공 신화 중독” (addiction to success myths).

At the same time, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins continues to inspire marginalized groups. Activist groups for LGBTQ rights and migrant workers in Korea have used stills and quotes from the drama in their materials, particularly scenes where Danbam staff defend Hyun‑yi and Tony. They frame Itaewon Class not just as entertainment but as proof that mainstream stories can center diverse underdogs without losing popularity.

Internationally, the drama’s success has influenced how future K-dramas about business and class are pitched. Producers see that underdog wins narratives with strong social commentary can travel well. When foreign media like The New York Times and The Guardian covered Itaewon Class, they often emphasized its critique of inequality, which in turn encouraged Korean creators to lean into similar themes.

So, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins functions as both inspiration and mirror. It shows Koreans what they wish their society could be – a place where integrity and diversity are competitive advantages – while also revealing how far reality still is from that ideal. The continued references in 2024–2025 prove that this tension has not been resolved, which is exactly why the underdog wins story remains so compelling.

Why Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins Matters In Korean Society Today

For Koreans, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins is not just a drama we once enjoyed; it is a cultural text we keep revisiting whenever debates about fairness, youth frustration, or minority rights flare up. The reason is simple: the story compresses many of our unresolved social issues into a single, emotionally satisfying narrative.

First, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins gives emotional form to the anger many young Koreans feel about “헬조선” (Hell Joseon), a slang term describing Korea as a hellish place for the younger generation due to intense competition, low social mobility, and unfair advantages for the privileged. Sae‑ro‑yi is a personification of the youth who play by the rules, only to be punished because they lack connections. His decision to fight back, not by leaving Korea but by building something new in Itaewon, offers a rare fantasy of domestic victory: you do not have to escape abroad to live with dignity.

Second, the drama’s portrayal of diversity, while not perfect, marks a significant step in mainstream Korean TV. Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins argues that the underdog wins not despite diversity but because of it. Hyun‑yi’s cooking, Tony’s global perspective, and Yi‑seo’s unconventional thinking all become competitive advantages. In a society that has long valued conformity, this message is quietly radical. It suggests that Korea’s future economic success may depend on embracing, rather than suppressing, difference.

Third, the drama challenges the cultural obsession with pedigree: elite universities, family background, and corporate titles. Sae‑ro‑yi has none of these, yet he ends up in boardrooms with men who represent everything Koreans are told they must become. Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins taps into a growing fatigue among young Koreans who see that even perfect resumes do not guarantee stability. By showing a dropout outmaneuvering a chaebol, the drama symbolically punishes a system that equates worth with credentials.

Fourth, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins has influenced how Koreans talk about leadership and teamwork. Sae‑ro‑yi is not a genius strategist; he is a steady, morally anchored leader who gives second chances. Korean viewers often quote his lines about trust and responsibility in real workplace situations. Management seminars and HR blogs sometimes reference Danbam as an example of inclusive leadership, contrasting it with top-down, authoritarian styles still common in older Korean companies.

Fifth, the drama has become a touchstone in conversations about Itaewon itself. After the 2022 crowd crush, many Koreans posted screenshots from Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins, remembering a time when Itaewon symbolized possibility rather than tragedy. Some criticized the commercialization of the district, arguing that the real underdogs – small bar owners and workers – were again the ones who suffered most. In this way, the drama’s underdog wins story has been reinterpreted as a call to protect vulnerable urban communities.

Finally, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins matters because it offers a shared story across generations. Older Koreans see echoes of their own struggles during the rapid industrialization era; younger Koreans see their present frustrations. The drama’s continued presence on streaming platforms means that new viewers keep discovering it, adding fresh interpretations. In Korean culture, when a work reaches this level of ongoing relevance, it stops being “just” entertainment and becomes part of the national conversation.

Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins is not a realistic manual for beating a conglomerate. It is, however, a powerful emotional map of what many Koreans wish justice could look like: the day when those who were told to kneel finally stand tall, and those who abused their power are forced to bow. That fantasy, grounded in very real pain, is why the underdog wins narrative of Itaewon Class continues to matter so deeply in Korean society today.

Questions Global Fans Ask About Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins

1. Is the business growth in Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins realistic in Korea?

From a Korean perspective, the business trajectory in Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins is emotionally realistic but economically exaggerated. Opening a small bar like Danbam in Itaewon requires significant capital: deposit (보증금), monthly rent, interior design, licenses, and staff salaries. Many Koreans who watched the drama immediately calculated that Sae‑ro‑yi’s savings from seven years of fishing work might barely cover the initial costs, especially given Itaewon’s rising rents. In reality, countless bars in Itaewon open and close within a year due to intense competition and high fixed costs.

However, what feels realistic is the grind: Sae‑ro‑yi working long hours, dealing with rude customers, facing neighborhood complaints, and constantly adjusting the menu. These details match Korean reality shows like Baek Jong‑won’s Alley Restaurant, where small business owners struggle similarly. The later leap from Danbam to a major food group capable of acquiring Jangga is where Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins shifts into fairy-tale territory. While Korea has seen some underdog franchise success stories, the timeline and scale in the drama are compressed for narrative satisfaction. Koreans watching understand this; we treat the business outcome as symbolic rather than literal, focusing on the message that character, team, and perseverance matter.

2. How accurately does Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins portray discrimination in Korea?

Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins simplifies but does not invent the discrimination it shows. Koreans recognize many elements as grounded in reality. School violence and unequal punishment, especially when the perpetrator has powerful parents, are sadly familiar themes in our news. The drama’s depiction of a chaebol son escaping consequences resonates strongly because similar real-world cases have sparked public outrage.

Regarding gender identity, the portrayal of Ma Hyun‑yi reflects the fact that transgender people in Korea face workplace discrimination, especially in conservative fields like professional kitchens. While her relatively quick acceptance within Danbam is idealized, the initial prejudice from others is believable. For biracial Koreans like Tony, the drama touches on a real issue: being told “you do not look Korean,” despite legal nationality or cultural fluency. This is particularly sensitive for Black-Koreans, who often face harsher bias.

However, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins resolves these issues more neatly than reality usually allows. In real Korea, structural change is slower, and many underdogs do not get a clear victory moment. Still, by putting these topics into a mainstream hit drama, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins helped normalize conversations about discrimination. Koreans saw characters like Hyun‑yi and Tony not as side jokes but as central to the underdog wins narrative, which is a meaningful step forward.

3. Why is Itaewon such an important setting for Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins?

For Koreans, Itaewon is not just a trendy neighborhood; it is a symbolic borderland. Historically, it grew around the US Yongsan military base, attracting foreigners, imported goods, and nightlife. Older generations associated Itaewon with “양키촌” (Yankee town), clubs, and sometimes crime. Younger Koreans, especially from the 2000s onward, reimagined Itaewon as a space of freedom: international cuisine, underground music, LGBTQ-friendly bars, and fashion experimentation.

In Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins, setting Danbam in Itaewon is a deliberate choice. It signals that this is a story about people who do not fit into mainstream Korean norms. The neighborhood’s multicultural vibe allows the drama to bring in characters like Tony naturally. When Sae‑ro‑yi chooses Itaewon as his battlefield against Jangga, Koreans read it as choosing the margins to attack the center. The underdog wins not by entering the chaebol’s world, but by building power in a space the elite once dismissed.

After the 2022 crowd crush, Itaewon gained a tragic association. Many Koreans revisited Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins with mixed feelings, seeing vibrant street scenes that now evoke loss. This has deepened the drama’s emotional impact for us. Itaewon is no longer just the stage for underdog wins; it is also a reminder of how vulnerable such spaces are to neglect and mismanagement. That makes the choice of Itaewon as the heart of the story even more poignant in hindsight.

4. Do Koreans agree with the romantic ending of Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins?

Korean reactions to the romance in Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins are very mixed, and this is a hot topic on local forums. Many viewers love Jo Yi‑seo as a character and see her as essential to the underdog wins strategy. Her social media skills, ruthless focus, and unwavering loyalty to Sae‑ro‑yi are key to Danbam’s growth. For these viewers, her finally ending up with Sae‑ro‑yi feels like a well-earned reward for both of them: he learns to see beyond his first love, and she is recognized not just as a business partner but as a life partner.

However, a significant number of Korean fans argue that Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins would have been stronger without a conventional romantic resolution. They feel that Sae‑ro‑yi’s core love is his dream of justice and his team, and that forcing a couple endgame slightly dilutes the purity of the underdog narrative. Some also criticize the age gap and power dynamics, since Yi‑seo is younger and initially his employee.

What almost all Koreans agree on is that the emotional climax of Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins is not the kiss, but the kneeling of Jang Dae‑hee and the final victory over Jangga. The romance is seen as an extra layer, not the main dish. International fans sometimes focus more on shipping, but in Korea, discussions of the drama usually revolve around revenge, business, and social issues rather than who Sae‑ro‑yi should date. The fact that the romance is so debated actually shows how seriously Koreans take the underdog wins theme; they do not want anything to distract from it.

5. How do Koreans use Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins as a reference in daily life?

In Korean everyday language, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins has become a kind of shorthand for unlikely success through stubborn integrity. If a small indie brand beats a famous competitor in some ranking, people might comment, “완전 이태원 클라쓰 언더독 승리네” (This is totally an Itaewon Class underdog win). When a whistleblower exposes corporate corruption and manages to keep their job, online comments sometimes quote Sae‑ro‑yi’s lines about living according to one’s convictions.

The drama is also referenced visually. The distinctive haircut of Sae‑ro‑yi became a meme; when someone appears with a similar cut, friends might jokingly call him “사장님” (boss) or say he looks ready to open his own Danbam. Some small bar owners intentionally lean into this, decorating their places with subtle Itaewon Class hints, signaling to customers that they share the underdog spirit.

In motivational contexts, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins is frequently cited in graduation speeches, startup pitch events, and youth mentoring programs. Speakers use Sae‑ro‑yi’s story to encourage persistence, especially when addressing students from non-elite backgrounds. At the same time, critical voices in Korea caution against overusing the drama as a success template, reminding people that for every Sae‑ro‑yi, there are many who work just as hard but do not get a dramatic victory.

Online, Itaewon Class – Underdog Wins is often invoked in debates about corporate ethics. When a chaebol is involved in a scandal, memes of Jang Dae‑hee appear, with captions implying that reality is more shameless than fiction. This shows that the drama has become part of how Koreans process real-world power abuses: we compare them to the Jangga family and ask whether any real-life Sae‑ro‑yi will emerge to challenge them.