REVIEW: ‘The Resurrected’ Wholly Embraces Revenge

Don’t let the initial supernatural hook convince you that The Resurrected (Huí hún jì) will lean completely into the genre. Instead, this latest Taiwanese series to hit Netflix wholly embraces the revenge thriller genre, crafting a fascinating cat-and-mouse game that explores the lengths two mothers will go to avenge their daughters against a human trafficker condemned to death. Ultimately, what is meant to be a promising hook proves entirely unnecessary, adding little to the story beyond convenience.

Opening with a haunting resurrection ritual in its first episode, the show sets a tone and expectation for The Resurrected that is never reached again. The ritual scene is haunting, though the inevitable object of resurrection never maintains a consistent sizing ratio in its CGI rendering.

However, this ritual convinces two grieving mothers, Wang Hui-chun (Shu Qi) and Chao Ching (Lee Sinje), to follow through with their wild plot to resurrect the irredeemable criminal, Chang Shih-kai (Fu Meng-po), after his death by lethal injection.

How are the three connected? Hui-chun’s daughter, Jin Jin (Vivi Chen), and Chao Ching’s daughter, Hsin-yi (Caitlin Fang), were swept up in Shih-kai’s operation. Jin Jin now resides in a coma, while Hsin-yi was found dead after being brutally tortured. With vengeance burning brightly in their hearts and their lives dramatically impacted emotionally and financially, the two come up with this dramatic scheme to not only punish Shih-kai but also obtain retribution against anyone else responsible.

The Resurrected peels back the mask of vengeance, forcing us to confront the ugliness of humanity.

Set across the span of roughly seven days (though the whirlwind of activity and lack of time accountability make this timeline feel much longer), this suspense thriller effectively crafts a compelling mystery with equally compelling characters. However, the brief incorporation of supernatural elements is wholly unnecessary.

This becomes more apparent when Hui-chun and Chao Ching craft a story about how they saved Shih-kai from execution (rather than admitting to bringing him to literal life). With nary a reminder as to the seven-day time limit post-resurrection, the only time this element comes back into play is for a convenient endnote to wrap things up. Had they done away with the supernatural and leaned completely into Hui-chun’s and Chao Ching’s crafted tale, the bulk of the story would have fared the same with a couple of minor adjustments.

The Resurrected also relies heavily on flashbacks to fill in the storyline and sheds light on what happened to Jin Jin, Hsin-yi, and lawyer Huang I-chen’s (Alyssa Chia) daughter, An Chi (Lin Ting-yi), who becomes the sole survivor of the raid that uncovers Shih-kai’s criminal empire.

As the catalyst for Hui-chun’s and Chao Ching’s vengeance, the flashes to the past build up and then undo assumptions surrounding these young women. And, while these flashbacks distract from the seven-day countdown in the present day, they prove essential.

The daughters show the darkest parts of survival at all costs.

Supernatural elements aside, The Resurrected thrives on its dark exploration of humanity, taking on a bleak, sometimes unnerving, deep dive into an all-too-real criminal industry. Everyone is a touch corrupted in The Resurrected, whether out of a sense of self-preservation and survival, or simply because of greed. In an era where the humanization of villains has led to softer, more redeemable bad guys, no amount of character sanitation can absolve Shih-kai or his family of their past and present actions.

As the central protagonists of the story, actresses Shu Qi and Lee Sinje evoke empathy and judgment for their characters. These two are in over their head, and that’s what makes them human. The dynamic between the characters is undeniable, with Lee Sinje’s Chao Ching the more dominant of the women. However, as the least empathetic and bloodthirsty of the two, her path into darkness is more clear-cut, whereas Shu Qi has more room to explore Hui-chun’s inner conflict when things rapidly escalate. 

As the villain is literally summoned back from the dead, Fu Meng-po’s Shih-kai is eerily believable as a man in charge of a horrendous operation. He’s manipulative, giving little beacons of hope and leeway if it means inevitably gaining the upper hand. As Shih-kai’s mother and mastermind behind everything, Chung Hsin-ling is downright terrifying, wearing multiple masks until she’s finally pushed into a corner. And when these two villains collide, it’s deliciously earned.

Questions are left unanswered by the series’ end, proving frustrating in our current TV climate.

However, despite some storylines meeting their natural (and sometimes, contrived) end in The Resurrected, others leave more questions than answers. For one thing, there is much left unsaid about Pong’s (Sukollawat Kanarot) connection to the criminal gang he is associated with. This element is introduced much later on in the series, yet it never reaches a conclusion or explanation that provides closure.

Another issue (though some may debate this as a non-issue) is that The Resurrected ends on a bit of a cliffhanger after dropping a major bomb surrounding one of the characters. In an era where additional seasons are more of a rarity than an expectation, cliffhangers don’t have the same impact as they did in years prior. Sure, they are exciting and can potentially provoke another conversation online, but if there isn’t a season renewal, the story is left unanswered rather than fully wrapped up.

Despite these issues, though, The Resurrected never relents in its mystery, with each new peeled layer adding more ambiguity and intrigue. From the story to its characters, there is a lot here to keep viewers glued to their screens. If the screenwriters had just done away with the gimmicky supernatural component and didn’t leave things open-ended, The Resurrected would have been fantastic. 

All episodes of The Resurrected are now streaming exclusively on Netflix.