My Korean Boyfriend Review: Netflix’s Reality Series Trades K-Drama Fantasy for an Uncomfortable Dose of Reality

What happens when K-drama dreams collide with real life?

My Korean Boyfriend — also known as Meu Namorado Coreano — is Netflix’s 2026 Brazilian docu-reality experiment that asks a bold question: can cross-cultural romance survive once the fantasy ends?

The answer, as the series reveals over eight episodes, is messy, awkward, and often painfully honest.

Rather than delivering glossy romance and swoon-worthy tropes, My Korean Boyfriend offers something far rarer in dating television: a reality check.

What Is My Korean Boyfriend About?

The premise is simple but loaded with expectation.

Five Brazilian women — each at a different stage of life, love, and emotional readiness — travel to South Korea to meet the Korean men they’ve developed romantic feelings for, largely inspired by years of K-drama consumption and online communication.

This is not a competition show.

There are no eliminations.

No manufactured love triangles.

Instead, the series unfolds like a documentary, quietly observing what happens when:

• Language barriers replace flirty text messages

• Cultural differences disrupt expectations

• Everyday routines shatter romantic fantasies

It’s less Love Is Blind and more love is complicated.

Fantasy vs. Reality: The Show’s Central Conflict

The most striking aspect of My Korean Boyfriend is how deliberately it dismantles the “K-drama prince” illusion.

Viewers expecting charming confessions, sweeping gestures, and effortless chemistry may be surprised — or disappointed. The men are ordinary. The women are nervous. Conversations stall. Silences linger.

And that’s the point.

The show exposes:

• How attraction can fade without communication

• How cultural assumptions quietly shape desire

• How romance built on fantasy struggles under real-world pressure

For some viewers, this honesty is refreshing. For others, it’s uncomfortable to watch.

Camila: The Unexpected Emotional Core

Critics have largely agreed on one standout: Camila.

Rather than treating the journey purely as a dating adventure, Camila uses her time in South Korea to explore identity, roots, and belonging. Her arc feels less performative and more introspective — which is why outlets like Decider labeled her the show’s “sleeper star.”

Her storyline subtly reframes the series:

• This isn’t just about romance

• It’s about why people seek love across borders

• And what they hope it will fix inside themselves

Camila’s emotional maturity highlights a recurring theme: chemistry matters far less than self-awareness.

Pacing: Intentionally Slow — and Divisive

One of the most common criticisms is pacing.

The show moves slowly. Very slowly.

There are long observational scenes, minimal background music, and few editorial cues telling viewers how to feel. For fans of high-energy dating shows, the rhythm can feel “plodding” or even dull.

But this pacing serves a purpose.

By refusing to sensationalize:

• Awkward conversations feel real

• Discomfort isn’t edited away

• Emotional disconnect becomes visible

This is not bingeable chaos. It’s human observation — and that won’t work for everyone.

Public Reaction: Curiosity Meets Backlash

Audience response has been sharply divided.

Ratings Snapshot

• IMDb: ~3.3–3.6/10

• Some platforms report higher satisfaction scores (around 4.5/5)

The low aggregate ratings reflect expectation mismatch more than outright failure.

Korean Netizen Response

On Korean forums like theqoo, backlash emerged quickly. Critics questioned:

• Whether the show commodifies Korean romance

• If it promotes a manufactured image for foreign audiences

• Why cultural nuance feels simplified

International Viewers

Global audiences were split:

• Some reported “second-hand embarrassment” watching the first meetings

• Others — especially K-drama fans — became emotionally invested, celebrating the vulnerability on display

This polarization may be the show’s biggest success: it sparked conversation.

Bigger Themes the Show Accidentally Confronts

Despite its modest format, My Korean Boyfriend touches on complex issues:

Fetishization

Several reviewers questioned whether the series unintentionally reinforces:

• Fetishization of Korean men

• Exoticization of Latin American women

The show doesn’t fully resolve this tension — but it does expose it.

Emotional Maturity Over Chemistry

Repeatedly, the series suggests that:

Attraction fades fast without communication, empathy, and emotional readiness.

Love across cultures doesn’t fail because of distance — it fails because people bring unresolved expectations with them.

Is My Korean Boyfriend Worth Watching?

That depends on what you want.

If you’re looking for:

• Escapist romance

• Glamorous dating drama

• K-drama fantasy fulfillment

This show will frustrate you.

But if you’re open to:

• Awkward realism

• Cultural discomfort

• Unfiltered emotional moments

Then My Korean Boyfriend offers something rare in reality TV: honesty without polish.

My Korean Boyfriend is not romantic in the traditional sense — and that’s exactly why it matters.

It strips away fantasy, exposes uncomfortable truths, and reminds viewers that love doesn’t magically translate across cultures just because attraction exists.

This is a series about expectation versus reality, and the emotional maturity required to bridge that gap.

Cringe-inducing at times.Thought-provoking more often than expected.And quietly honest in a genre built on illusion.