Korea JoongAng Daily - Daily News from Korea

This article is by Sarah Chea and read by an artificial voice.

LAS VEGAS — Five four-legged robot dogs danced to K-pop, performing dazzling backflips. A humanoid robot, walking almost indistinguishably from a human, appeared next, twisting its body in a bow of greeting.

Against the majestic backdrop of the Mandalay Bay Convention Center in Las Vegas, amid the spectacle and swagger of CES, Hyundai Motor Group offered a quiet yet profoundly consequential vision of the future — one in which robots do not replace humans, but stand beside them.

Korea's largest automaker on Monday lifted the cover of the much-anticipated Atlas humanoid robot, developed by Boston Dynamics, marking a decisive shift in strategy as it positions itself as a robotics firm, following a path reminiscent of Tesla's all-in bet on Optimus humanoid robot.

"Our focus is on assigning robots to repetitive and dangerous work to enhance productivity, while exploring how to build and sustain a competitive robotics ecosystem," Hyundai Motor Group Vice Chairman Chang Jae-hoon said during an interview at the CES 2026 in Las Vegas.

Robots take tough jobs

The ultimate aim of the Atlas humanoid is not to replace human workers, but to take on tasks that are difficult, repetitive, heavy or hazardous — helping to create safer and more sustainable working conditions on factory floors.

Hyundai unveiled two versions of the robot: the Atlas Prototype and the Atlas Product Model, where the prototype is a research-and-development platform, built to test core technologies essential for future products. Equipped with fully rotating 360-degree joints and capable of natural, human-like walking, it serves as a critical stepping stone toward the next generation of humanoid robots.

The Atlas product is designed for real-world industrial deployment. With 56 degrees of freedom, and featuring human-sized hands embedded with tactile sensors, most of its joints can rotate fully, maximizing flexibility and efficiency in manufacturing environments.

Atlas has joints that can move 360 degrees, and can lift payloads of up to 50 kilograms (110 pounds) and reach heights of 2.3 meters (7 feet, 6 inches). It can operate reliably in temperatures ranging from minus 20 to 40 degrees Celsius (minus 4 to 104 degrees Fahrenheit), and is water-resistant and washable.

Designed as an industrial robot capable of performing a wide range of tasks — from material handling to precision assembly — it can learn most functions within a single day. When its battery runs low, it can autonomously navigate to a charging station, swap its battery and resume work immediately.

"The greatest strength of Atlas lies in its exceptional adaptability across applications," Chung said. "The second is durability. Leveraging Hyundai Motor Group's technological assets and purchasing power, we plan to further strengthen its competitiveness."

The Atlas will be officially deployed starting in 2028 at Hyundai Motor's EV megaplant in Georgia for tasks such as parts sequencing, and will expand the tasks to parts assembly starting in 2030.

Boosting research, investment

Hyundai will open its first-ever Robot Metaplant Application Center (RMAC) in the United States later this year, a facility designed to enable the efficient deployment of humanoid robots in real-world manufacturing environments.

RMAC will serve as a hub for robot data collection, discovery and performance validation, where robots are trained to work alongside humans, where they will be evolved to become faster, more intelligent, and safer before being deployed at scale.

"First, we establish fundamental robotic behaviors through teleoperation and similar methods, then aggregate those behaviors and refine them through simulation, where the data is carefully quantified," said Jung Jun-cheul, head of manufacturing at Hyundai Motor Group.

"We then feed that data back into the robots, recreating real-world working environments and training them through repeated iterations. Thro...

This article is by Seo Jeong-min and read by an artificial voice.

As annual trend forecasts make their rounds, many of them begin to sound familiar. The JoongAng Ilbo reviewed four books that track consumer behavior year after year to identify ideas that, despite different labels, point to the same underlying shift heading into 2026.

Here are the keywords that outline how young consumers in Korea are likely to live, spend and define value this year.

From '2026 K-Consumer Trend Insights'

The book, published by the Consumer Trend Center led by Seoul National University emeritus professor Kim Nan-do, marks the latest installment in a series that has tracked shifts in Korean consumer behavior since 2008. This year's edition focuses on how emotional awareness, technological change and economic pressure are reshaping everyday choices.

The Feelconomy

Consumption, the book argues, has become a tool for emotional self-management. Consumers increasingly purchase goods and services not for their practical value, but to regulate mood and psychological state. Even products with little functional utility can feel justified if they help improve how someone feels in the moment.

Pixelated life

Daily life is increasingly divided into smaller, shorter units of experience. Rather than committing to long-term plans, consumers gravitate toward moments that feel urgent and time-bound, such as pop-up stores, festivals, fairs, exhibitions and seasonal foods. What matters most is the sense that the experience exists only for a limited time.

Price decoding

Consumers no longer accept prices as fixed or self-explanatory. Instead, they analyze how a price is structured and decide whether its components feel reasonable. Purchasing decisions come after scrutiny, not just trust in branding.

The 1.5 household

Living alone no longer means embracing isolation. The book describes a growing group of people who value independence but still seek emotional connection.

Returning to the fundamentals

As AI accelerates production and replication, consumers show renewed interest in tradition, originality and analog experiences. Classics, originals and longstanding practices gain appeal as a counterbalance to speed and efficiency.

From 'Generation Z Trends 2026'

Published by University Tomorrow 20 Research Institute, Korea's only research institute dedicated to people in their 20s, the book examines the generation that has moved from cultural observer to trend leader. The book focuses on how Gen Z responds to uncertainty, economic pressure and digital saturation.

Meta-sensing

At a time when qualities such as warmth, consideration and emotional ease are becoming scarcer in an AI-driven society, Gen Z is paying closer attention to sensing and restoring those values. Meta-sensing describes a heightened awareness of subtle emotional shifts and a growing focus on personal emotional care as a way to recognize what feels lacking and consciously fill that gap.

Timely consumption

Scarcity has long shaped consumer desire, but amid an uncertain future, timing itself has emerged as a new measure of value. For Gen Z, the appeal lies in recognizing moments that cannot be delayed. Enjoying an experience the moment it matters — because there may not be another chance — is becoming central to how they define experience-driven consumption.

Micro consumption

Economic slowdown has thinned wallets, but it hasn't erased the desire to spend. Instead, Gen Z approaches consumption more deliberately, investing time and attention in understanding what a purchase is meant to deliver. Frequent visits to convenience stores or retailers like the dollar store chain Daiso reflect a preference for items that cost less, come in smaller sizes and feel lighter on the budget, yet still offer novelty and satisfaction.

Personal rest zones

More young people now look to figures who live alone with style and intention as role models. As self-focused living gains importance, Gen Z increasingly treats private...

This article is by Cho Jung-woo and read by an artificial voice.

[KOREAN CRIME FILES #12]

Behind the glitz and glamour seen in pop culture, Korea's grimmest and most harrowing crime stories, some more well-known than others, continue to haunt society today. The Korea JoongAng Daily takes a deep dive into some of these stories, sharing a glimpse into the darker side of society as well as the most up-to-date known facts. — Ed.

On the evening of Aug. 30, 1997, a telephone rang inside an apartment in Seocho District, an affluent neighborhood in southern Seoul.

The voice on the line was calm.

"Is this Na-ri's house?" the woman asked. "Na-ri is doing fine."

On the other end was a mother whose 8-year-old daughter had not come home after an English class earlier that day. The call came three hours after the mother reported her daughter missing.

The next day, the phone rang again.

"Bring a bank card with 20 million won [$14,000] in it," the woman said.

"I only have cash," the mother replied, her voice shaking.

"Then you will not be able to see your child," the caller said and hung up.

Only later would the family learn that this was not a negotiation. Another call that night was traced to a cafe in Myeong-dong, central Seoul.

With no leads, police made the investigation public on Sept. 3. The missing child was Park Na-ri, a second-grade student at a nearby elementary school. Her full name was Park Chorong Chorong Bitnari.

A birthday without a child

Sept. 9 was Na-ri's birthday. She was still missing. That day, Na-ri's mother wrote her daughter a letter.

"Because I believe that if Na-ri were to call out for me even now, she would walk through our front door, I am holding on," she wrote. "Wherever you are, please listen to the person you are with and pray that you can come home safely. Your mother, who loves you."

On Sept. 11, a 60-year-old man called the police who were tracking down the kidnapper.

"Why are you investigating around my house?" the man asked over the phone.

That day, the police were investigating near the home of the parents of Jeon Hyeon-ju, a 28-year-old pregnant woman. Officers told the caller, Jeon's father, that his daughter was on their list of suspects.

Jeon was included on that list after police questioned 13 customers at a Myeong-dong coffee shop, where one of the ransom calls had been placed. At the time, Jeon was released after providing fingerprints and basic information. Officers believed a pregnant woman was unlikely to commit such a crime.

The father soon told police that his daughter had packed three travel bags and had been missing since Sept. 1. After officers shared a recording of the ransom call with him, he confirmed that the blackmailer's voice was his daughter's.

The day after her father came forward, police arrested Jeon at an inn in Sillim-dong, in Gwanak District, southern Seoul. Pesticides were found at the scene. Jeon later told police she had intended to kill herself. Her parents, according to reports, had urged her to do so before her arrest.

She was about a month from giving birth.

Based on Jeon's testimony, police were dispatched to the basement office of her husband in Sadang-dong, Dongjak District. Her husband worked as a director of children's theatrical productions.

An officer at the scene later said he nearly slipped on the floor because it was covered in blood.

Na-ri's body was found inside a hiking backpack.

Why Na-ri

Jeon had grown up in relative privilege. Her father was a high-ranking government official, and she had studied in the United States. But while attending university in Korea, she fell in love with a man in her class, who also studied creative writing. Her parents strongly opposed the relationship.

The couple married without their families' consent. Her husband did not have steady work, and she spent heavily. Jeon soon fell into severe financial hardship.

Jeon initially claimed there were other accomplices. She said two men had visited her husband's office, sexually ...

The author is a writer and senior fellow at the Institute for Social and Economic Research.

On Jan. 6, 1941, in Washington, Franklin D. Roosevelt stood at the rostrum of the U.S. Capitol to deliver the annual State of the Union address. In that speech, delivered as the world edged closer to total war, Roosevelt laid out what he called four essential freedoms that should underpin a secure future.

He framed them with unusual breadth. First was freedom of speech and expression everywhere in the world. Second was freedom of every person to worship God in their own way everywhere in the world. Third was freedom from want, defined not simply as charity but as economic arrangements that would ensure a healthy and peaceful life for all citizens everywhere. Fourth was freedom from fear, which he described as a global reduction of armaments so thorough that no nation would be in a position to commit physical aggression against a neighbor.

Roosevelt's formulation went beyond the traditional understanding of liberty as a limit on state power. He argued that governments had an affirmative duty not only to refrain from violating freedom of expression and religion but also to protect people from poverty and fear. By extending freedom from a negative concept to a positive one, Roosevelt insisted that these goals should not be deferred to some distant future. They were, he said, objectives that had to be achieved in his own time by confronting violent dictatorships head on.

Less than a year later, on Dec. 7, 1941, Japan attacked Pearl Harbor. The United States declared war the following day. What Roosevelt later called a "sleeping giant" entered the conflict with the stated aim of securing those four freedoms on a global scale. The speech's influence did not end with the war. Its principles were echoed in the Atlantic Charter, the United Nations Charter and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, turning a wartime address into a lasting reference point for the international order.

That legacy invites reflection today. With U.S. President Donald Trump once again in office and reports circulating of a sudden U.S. military operation that resulted in the detention of Nicolás Maduro, Roosevelt's four freedoms take on renewed relevance.

This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.

The author is a distinguished professor of the Department of Materials Science and Engineering at Seoul National University.

Riding the global surge in AI, Korea's semiconductor companies have recently posted sharply improved earnings, raising hopes of a virtuous cycle across the broader industrial ecosystem. If sustained, this momentum could even ease the longstanding drift of science and engineering students toward medical schools.

Against this backdrop, however, a proposal has begun to circulate in political circles, local governments and parts of academia to relocate some of the semiconductor plants planned for the Yongin National Industrial Complex in Gyeonggi to Saemangeum, a vast land reclamation project on the southwest coast in North Jeolla, originally developed for agriculture, industry and renewable energy. The idea shows signs of spreading to other regions as well, a trend that has heightened concern following ambiguous remarks by Kim Sung-hwan, the minister of climate, energy and environment, which were widely interpreted as lending political weight to the relocation argument.

Proponents cite RE100 renewable energy commitments and balanced regional development as their main justifications. Few would dispute the importance of decarbonization or the need to address regional disparities. Yet the sudden call to move semiconductor fabs ignores technical and economic realities. Taken too far, it risks weakening a core national industry, amounting to little more than the folly of killing the goose that lays the golden eggs.

The semiconductor sector has long generated national value through corporate tax payments and exports, serving as a pillar of the broader economy. In a country facing persistent military threats from the North, it also functions as a "silicon shield," underpinning national security as much as economic prosperity. Maintaining competitiveness in semiconductors is therefore not merely an industrial policy question but one tied to the country's long-term survival.

The RE100 argument, in particular, has been overstretched. RE100 is a voluntary private initiative launched in 2014 by a British nonprofit and carries no legal force. While some U.S. technology giants participate, only Apple strictly requires renewable energy. Microsoft and Google allow the use of other decarbonized power sources, including nuclear energy. Major semiconductor customers such as Nvidia, Broadcom, AMD and Qualcomm are not even members of RE100. Memory rival Micron is also not a signatory.

Most analysts agree that Korean chipmakers can readily handle the portion of customer demand that does require RE100 compliance. Dire forecasts that semiconductor exports could fall 30 percent by 2030 if RE100 is not met rest on highly speculative assumptions rather than firm evidence.

The environmental case for renewables also deserves a more sober assessment. Solar and wind facilities are now entering a phase where large volumes of waste are being generated, yet recycling technologies remain rudimentary. Disposal itself consumes substantial energy. Energy storage systems pose additional challenges, as large-scale batteries have finite life spans and create their own waste burdens. Renewables are clearly an essential pillar of decarbonization, but treating them as inherently and unconditionally green is misguided.

From a power supply perspective, relocating fabs to Saemangeum borders on fantasy. Even moving just one-third of the new plants planned by Samsung Electronics and SK hynix would require roughly 5 gigawatts of electricity. Saemangeum's existing solar capacity stands at about one-tenth of a gigawatt. Given Korea's average solar utilization rate of roughly 15.4 percent, supplying a stable 5 gigawatts would require building some 32.5 gigawatts of new solar capacity.

That would demand an estimated 34.4 trillion won ($24 billion) in investment and occupy about 280 square kilometers (69,200 acres), or roughly 97 percent of Saemangeum's a...

The author is an editorial writer at the JoongAng Ilbo.

"I am well aware that, with the overwhelming support of the majority of the people, Your Excellency is opening a new chapter in Venezuela's destiny through outstanding leadership. (...) Your bold reforms have left a deep impression at home and abroad."

The speaker was then-President Kim Dae-jung, and the addressee was then-Venezuelan President Hugo Chávez. Chávez, who took office in 1999 after winning the presidential election, embarked on an Asian tour that year, visiting China and Japan before making a state visit to Korea. It was the first visit to Korea by a Venezuelan head of state. Kim's remarks at the state dinner were standard diplomatic courtesies, but few at the time would have imagined that Chávez's "reforms" would later become synonymous with a brand of left-wing populism that devastated his country.

The dinner speech went further, praising Chávez's push to convene a constituent assembly and adopt a new constitution as a "historic task" aimed at advancing democracy and human rights and shaping Venezuela's vision for the 21st century. That constitutional overhaul has been frequently invoked in recent debates over judicial reform in Korea. It was, after all, the reform that abolished the upper house of Venezuela's parliament and expanded the Supreme Court from 20 to 32 justices, effectively undermining the separation of powers. Despite this, a Korean university later awarded Chávez an honorary doctorate, citing his contributions to democratic development. Chávez sought another visit to Korea in 2006, but the request was denied. U.S. diplomatic cables later released by WikiLeaks showed that the Korean government, mindful of the Korea-U.S. alliance, declined the visit because Washington was uncomfortable with hosting Chávez.

Under the banner of "21st century socialism," Chávez poured oil revenues generated by nationalizing the petroleum industry into expansive welfare programs, offering free health care and education. Poverty rates did fall for a time. Chávez became a star at the World Social Forum, a gathering place for left-wing activists worldwide under the slogan "Another world is possible." Around the same period, in 2006, the Korean Broadcasting System aired a documentary titled "Beyond Neoliberalism, Chávez's Challenge," widely criticized for its lack of balance.

The Venezuelan president just detained by U.S. special forces and flown to the United States, Nicolás Maduro, was Chávez's loyal disciple. A former bus drivers' union leader, Maduro entered politics after Chávez came to power, serving as National Assembly speaker and foreign minister before becoming vice president in 2012. Battling cancer, Chávez anointed Maduro as his successor, and Maduro won the presidential election in 2013. The 27-year experiment in left-wing populism under Chávez and Maduro ended in comprehensive failure. When oil prices fell, the cash-fueled welfare state became unsustainable. Price controls and steep minimum wage hikes failed to curb hyperinflation. Between 2014 and 2020, the economy collapsed, living standards deteriorated and millions left the country. Foreign media reported that by 2017, roughly three-quarters of the population of about 30 million suffered food shortages, with average body weight dropping by 8.7 kilograms. Even as the country unraveled, fervent supporters chanting "I am Chávez" and the enduring ideology of Chavismo testified to the unsettling resilience of populism.

Yet it would be simplistic to focus only on the failure of left-wing populism. Though often branded a dictator, Chávez came to power through elections. The same is true of Maduro, despite persistent allegations of electoral fraud. Chávez's ability to capture public sentiment, even after a failed coup in 1992 and two years in prison, rested on the fertile ground of extreme polarization. That divide, rather than ideology alone, provided the conditions for populism to flourish. Regardless ...

The government has moved to require that half of all new vehicles sold in Korea by 2030 be EVs or other environmentally friendly models. The measure follows a notice issued Monday by the Ministry of Climate, Energy and Environment, which set annual targets for the adoption of low- and zero-emission vehicles. Last year, the target stood at 26 percent. Under the new framework, it will be raised step by step to 50 percent by 2030.

Automakers that fail to meet the target will be required to pay 3 million won ($2,000) per vehicle. The amount was set under an enforcement decree of the Clean Air Conservation Act during the previous Yoon Suk Yeol administration. Such contributions are likely to translate into higher vehicle prices, ultimately burdening consumers. Cutting greenhouse gas emissions is an important policy goal, but it must be pursued with due regard for market realities.

The government last November finalized an updated Nationally Determined Contribution, or NDC, setting a target of reducing greenhouse gas emissions by 53 to 61 percent from 2018 levels by 2035. For the transport sector, the reduction target is even steeper, at 60.2 to 62.8 percent. Expanding the share of electric and other environmentally friendly vehicles in the domestic market is central to achieving that goal.

Automakers are also moving in that direction. Hyundai Motor Group said at an investor briefing in September that it aims to raise the share of green vehicles in its global sales to 59 percent by 2030. Still, there is a clear difference between companies voluntarily adjusting their sales mix and the government imposing mandatory targets through regulation.

If ambition outpaces preparation, there is a risk that overly aggressive targets will not only be missed but also weigh on economic activity. This is an issue that must be addressed with careful attention to the readiness of the industry. Even in technical details, such as how hybrid vehicles are counted toward the target, differences persist between the government and automakers. While the government says it went through a public consultation process and regulatory review after announcing the draft rules last September, it remains unclear whether there was sufficient communication with industry stakeholders.

Shifts in overseas policy also warrant consideration. The European Union, which once pushed for a complete phaseout of new internal combustion engine vehicles, has retreated from that stance. It initially set a goal of cutting emissions from new cars by 100 percent by 2035, but later revised the target to 90 percent. The change reflected industry concerns that a full ban would be difficult to implement under real-world conditions.

Korea's targets are less stringent than those proposed in Europe, but even so, it is worth closely examining whether steadily raising annual adoption goals is feasible in the domestic market. Reducing greenhouse gas emissions is not something that can be achieved through resolve alone. It requires policies grounded in realistic assessments of technology, infrastructure and consumer behavior.

This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.

This article is by Shin Ha-nee and read by an artificial voice.

It's the first K-pop debut of the year — as well as a comeback. Boy band idntt, one of K-pop's most ambitious projects, has just debuted its second subunit, yesweare, adding eight new members to the mega lineup in the making.

With the debut of yesweare on Monday, idntt is promoting its new and second EP, "yesweare," as a 15-member group, combining the seven members of its first subunit, unevermet, launched in August last year.

"With the new album, we hope to show our new identity through this journey of yesweare joining unevermet to become one team," said uneverment member Lee Hwan-hee during a press showcase in central Seoul on Monday.

"To describe yesweare in one sentence, I'd say, 'We are young,'" said member Kim Seong-jun of yesweare. "We hope to show our bold fearlessness with the new EP."

For those confused by the statement, here's the breakdown: Launched by Modhaus in August last year, idntt has been billed as the male counterpart to the agency's 24-member girl group tripleS.

Similar to tripleS, idntt — which currently has 15 members and will ultimately grow to 24 — is structured around three subunits that function like Lego blocks, coming together to form a complete group.

The first, uneverment, debuted in August last year with seven members. It was initially planned as an eight-member unit, but Hwangbo Min-gyeol suspended activities ahead of the debut in July following allegations of school bullying raised online.

With the launch of yesweare on Monday, eight additional members were introduced under the idntt banner: Lee Cheong-myeong, Towa, Lee Kyu-hyuk, Park Nu-ri, Kim Seong-jun, Han Ye-joon, Choi Gyeong-been and Hwang Eun-soo.

When the third and final subunit, itsnotover, makes its debut, idntt will complete its full lineup as a 24-member group.

"The easiest way to understand the system is to consider unevermet and yesweare as part of our journey to create one, complete idntt," explained Nam Ji-woon. "Because this is a path no one has taken before, I'm certain it is going to be a successful one."

The new EP, "yesweare," consists of five songs: the lead track "Pretty Boy Swag," along with B-sides, "Yes We Are," "Boys," "Rage Problem" and "Moon Burn."

Only the eight newly debuting members of yesweare took part in "Yes We Are" and "Rage Problem," while for the rest of the tracks, all the current idntt members joined to form a single large-scale crew.

The lead track, "Pretty Boy Swag," is a hip-hop song marked by its rhythmic bass riff and humming sound, which member Kim Hee-ju of unevermet described as "a song that shows idntt's street-learned swag."

The addition of the new subunit has reshaped the group's identity on a grander scale, according to the members.

"What we are most excited about is the stage," said Lee Kyu-hyuk. "We're eager to show performances that are only possible with 15 members' vocals and presence."

With the group shaping up to be a massive 24-member team, the boy band highlights the diversity of its lineup as a key strength.

"I believe the core identity of our group lies in diversity," said Lee Cheong-myeong. "If we can express our unique identities to the fullest, I think we can unite such diversity into one combined identity."

This article is by Kim Ji-ye and read by an artificial voice.

In an evolving landscape of streaming viewership, negative reviews no longer equate to failure as they once did with theater releases. At least not for Netflix's recently released feature "The Great Flood" (2025), which is unexpectedly gaining global traction.

The natural disaster film "The Great Flood," released on Dec. 19, 2025, had drawn largely lukewarm reactions, particularly from the Korean audience. The film received a 4.19 rating out of 10 on Naver, one of the nation's largest online portal sites, as of Jan. 5.

Despite such negative responses, the film topped Netflix's global Top 10 chart in the non-English film category for two consecutive weeks, according to the streaming platform on Wednesday. It also ranked in the Top 10 in 92 countries, including 53 nations where it placed No. 1.

This disconnect between public sentiment and chart results has raised questions over the weakening correlation between critical evaluation and commercial performance — a phenomenon that's become increasingly visible in the streaming era.

Flooding negative comments

The film has received particularly negative reviews from the Korean public, with more than 60 percent of its Naver ratings in the one- to two-point range.

Directed by Kim Byung-woo, who also helmed films like "The Terror, LIVE" (2013) and "Take Point" (2018), the sci-fi disaster film follows a researcher and her young son trapped in an apartment complex during a catastrophic flood on the final day of Earth. Their survival becomes a crucial mission as the fate of humanity becomes tied to their escape. It features actor Kim Da-mi, Park Hae-soo and Kwon Eun-seong.

One Naver comment, which gave it two points, said, "A boring film that steals the audience's time is a crime." The comment garnered over 4,800 likes. Other comments were similarly unsparing, including remarks such as, "I would like to express my regret to the film's investors," "For a movie like this, the least it can do is make sense" and "It's not 'The Great Flood,' it's a great disaster."

Overseas responses, while still far from glowing, were comparatively a little more forgiving. The film earned a 2.5 out of 5 on Rotten Tomatoes and a 5.4 out of 10 on IMDb as of Friday, with scores hovering around the midpoint, reflecting a mixed to negative reception rather than outright rejection.

Variety, a U.S. entertainment media outlet, described the film as "an ambitious shotgun marriage of too many ideas that end up seeming underdeveloped and rushed within a conventional feature runtime" under the headline, "Seoul Gets Submerged in a Survival Tale That Eventually Goes Down a Confused Sci-Fi Wormhole."

British news outlet The Guardian echoed a similar sentiment, calling An-na's narrative, played by Kim Da-mi, "an apologia, complete with cut-and-paste disaster imagery, for algorithmic entertainment."

Still, amid the criticism, a subset of viewers supported the film, arguing against overly harsh judgment, while others pointed to broader shifts in audience habits, noting that films needing patience and interpretation may struggle in an era dominated by short-form, dopamine-driven content.

"Based on the opinions of people around me whom I trust, it may not be a standout work, but it's solidly average," said Korean-English translator Hwang Seok-hee, renowned for translating numerous hit films like "Deadpool" (2016) and "Spider-Man: Far From Home" (2019). "It's like not something remarkable, but entertaining enough to watch."

A Naver commenter who gave the film eight points wrote: "With everyone constantly consuming short-form videos and dopamine-heavy content, it feels like films like this just aren't appreciated anymore. People seem to only look for action-comedy franchises like 'The Roundup' [2017-24] series these days. No one wants to think or try to understand anymore. Just movies you can watch passively, without having to engage."

And it seems that director Kim...

This article is by Kim Kyung-hee and read by an artificial voice.

Imports of sterilized milk jumped from 4,000 tons in 2018 to over 10,000 tons for the first time in 2019, and reached 48,000 tons in 2024 — more than 10 times the volume in 2018, according to the Korea Customs Service. In the third quarter of 2025 alone, 17,424 tons of sterilized milk were imported, marking the highest quarterly volume ever — a 41 percent increase from the same period the year before.

This trend is especially striking given the ongoing decline in domestic milk consumption, largely attributed to Korea's falling birthrate. Domestic milk consumption dropped from 4.4 million kilograms (4,850 tons) in 2021 to 3.9 million kilograms in 2024. Per capita consumption also declined from 86.1 kilograms to 76 kilograms during the same period.

Industry observers say that rising food prices — including for milk — have led consumers to turn to cheaper alternatives such as imported shelf-stable milk, referring to milk that has undergone Ultra-High Temperature pasteurization and can be stored in a pantry for months.

Korea's dairy industry is being hit with a double blow: falling consumption and weakening price competitiveness against imports. Milk consumption in Korea is heavily dependent on school meal programs and young children, both of which have been affected by the shrinking school-age population. At the same time, more consumers are replacing milk at breakfast with alternatives such as coffee, soy milk and almond drinks.

Adding to the challenge is Korea's high raw milk price, which is among the highest in the world, making exports difficult. The price per liter of raw milk in 2024 in won terms was 1,246 won (86 cents) in Korea, 1,130 won in Japan, 744 won in Poland, 670 won in Australia and 629 won in the United States, based on 2024 data compiled by the Korea Dairy Committee and the U.S. Department of Agriculture.

The high price of Korean raw milk is mainly due to structural inefficiencies in the domestic dairy industry: While the number of farms is relatively high, the number of cows per farm is low, limiting economies of scale. Additionally, Korea's heavy reliance on imported cattle feed means that fluctuations in exchange rates and global grain prices directly affect production costs.

To stay competitive, Korean dairy companies are emphasizing the freshness of domestic milk. In a recent survey conducted by the Korea Dairy Committee involving 3,000 consumers nationwide, 57.7 percent selected "freshness" as the top factor when buying milk — far higher than the 13.8 percent who cited "price." In fact, fresh milk accounts for 91 percent of Korea's offline retail market.

"Fresh milk and sterilized milk are fundamentally separate markets," said a Seoul Milk representative. "There is a clear difference in taste, and consumer preferences vary accordingly."

Korean dairy companies are adapting to survive. Seoul Milk plans to expand its line of premium products, highlighting freshness and functionality that imports cannot replicate. Maeil Dairies is focusing on adult nutrition products, and Namyang Dairy Products is expanding its protein brand and investing in functional health foods.

This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.