Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Arthdal Chronicles’ on Netflix, a Sprawling Korean Fantasy Series That Recalls Another Certain Sprawling Fantasy Series

Netflix series Arthdal Chronicles is likely to be praised for its ambition. Created by veteran writers/directors Kim Won-Seok and Kim Young-Hyun, it’s a big-budget Korean series set in fictional ancient times, and engineered to explore ideas central to the birth of modern civilizations. It features tribal peoples engaged in political and territorial struggles, and hints at the existence of supernatural elements. Whether or not it’s intentional, Arthdal certainly brings to mind a certain hit HBO series that recently ended but will remain nameless — let’s just say it rhymes with “flame of bones.”

ARTHDAL CHRONICLES: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

Opening Shot: An overhead view of a lush forest with a brilliantly aquamarine natural pool center-frame.

The Gist: On one side are the Sarams, humans with the intellect to cultivate agriculture and understand that territorial control equals power. On the other are the Neanthals, a species technologically inferior to the Sarams, but physically superior by a significant margin — they possess superhuman speed, strength and agility. At first glance, one can differentiate the Neanthals by their blue lips, a characteristic of the blue blood coursing through their bodies. Neanthals also can dream, while Sarams cannot.

There’s a meeting of the two group leaders. The Neanthals wear sabertoothed tiger skulls as helmets, and the Sarams, bear heads and pelts. The Sarams’ attempt to partner with the Neanthals fails, and there’s a clear difference in philosophy between them — progress vs. regression, practicality vs. spirituality. This doesn’t stop the Sarams’ plan to conquer more territory, so they poison the Neanthals with pox-coated blankets, burn their camps and vow to hunt down any stragglers.

It’s an ugly scene: Saram warriors surround one Neanthal. The latter zooms around and viciously dismembers the former. As the Sarams slowly eradicate their perceived enemies, Tagon (Jang Dong-gun) emerges as a brilliant tactical leader and warrior. Meanwhile, a Saram woman protects her child, a half-breed Saram/Neanthal, from capture. She’s Asa Hon (Chu Ja-hyun), and she can — gasp — dream. The baby is Eunseom, and by the time the narrative skips ahead a decade, he’s the only surviving Neanthal. After years of hiding in a cave, Asa Hon carries the boy on her back across a scorching salt plain to a safe land, and before she dies, realizes he may be Aramun Haesulla, a chosen one (or a god?) who spoke prophetic riddles to her in a dream.

Another 10 years goes by. The Sarams’ imperial quest continues. And Eunseom lives among a new people, who single him out for his ability to dream.

Our Take: First impression: the opening credits feature a three-dimensional map of various areas in the land of Arthdal, which sure invokes that one show with all the dragons and eunuchs in it. Arthdal Chronicles also features a musical score heavy on the high-drama strings, just like that one show with the iconic musical theme. It’s also violent as heck, and immediately establishes a sprawling world-building narrative populated with numerous characters, just like that one show with the many, many characters inflicting lots of sadistic violence upon each other.

To be fair, Arthdal occurs in a more primitive time than the show that begs such comparison, and appears to be set up to explore different ideas about the human creature and its thirst for power and possessions. But like that other show, you might want to create a spreadsheet to keep track of characters and timelines. This episode’s sprawl is unwieldy, full of exposition and overly long at 80 minutes. A clear climactic moment occurs halfway through, and cutting it into two episodes would have rendered it more digestible — but yet, it goes on. (Future episodes will be just as lengthy, and rolled out at a rate of two per weekend for the month of June.)

So the pacing is considerably bumpy as the first Arthdal covers a whole lotta narrative ground in its attempt to establish settings, characters, myth and legend. I honestly can’t say it was compelling. Heavily dramatic scenes are drawn out unnecessarily, and the use of CGI in swooping establishing shots — so, so many swooping establishing shots — was chintzy. (The wolves that surround Euseom and his mother in the third act looked like computer-animated versions of animatronic animals.)

Sex and Skin: None so far, which at least differentiates it from that one other show, which had lots of rutting and nudity in it.

Parting Shot: The 20-year-old Eunseom wears an expression of fear and realization on his face as he realizes he’s been dreaming — and others know about it.

Sleeper Star: Given more screen time, Dong-gun’s take on Tagon could give the show a charismatic focal point.

Most Pilot-y Line: “At what point did things start to go wrong?” a narrator asks almost rhetorically, considering humans are gonna human, and when they human, things inevitably involve killing and conquering things.

Our Call: SKIP IT. I acknowledge that Arthdal has some vigor and spirit beneath all of its too-muchness, and others may feel at least somewhat obligated to give it another episode or three to win them over. Perhaps I’m just experiencing sprawling-fantasy-narrative burnout, and for that, I blame my groans.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com or follow him on Twitter: @johnserba.

Stream Arthdal Chronicles on Netflix