Netflix’s sci-fi romance ‘Lost in Starlight’ illuminates shifting tide for Korean animation

When we talk about long-distance relationships, it usually means partners being far away from one another, on Earth. But 25 years from now, that distance might stretch into space — and that’s exactly what Netflix’s new sci-fi romance animation “Lost in Starlight” explores.

Released on May 30, the film marks Netflix’s first-ever Korean animated original and a potential turning point for Korea’s long-underestimated animation industry.

While Korean dramas have long captured the global spotlight, Korean animation — especially works targeting adults — has often remained in the shadows. But with recent successes like “Solo Leveling” (2024-25) and “The King of Kings,” the tide is beginning to turn.

Director Han Ji-won, who led “Lost in Starlight,” now finds herself at the forefront of this shift. The sci-fi animation released on Netflix on May 30.

“Every time I met with other directors, they would say things like, ‘You’re our hope,’ or ‘Please do well,’ with a mix of encouragement and pressure,” she said.

The director sat down for an interview with reporters at a cafe in Jongno District, central Seoul, on June 2 to talk about behind-the-scenes goings on, as well as how Korean animation might finally be stepping onto the global stage.

Real-life romance turned into animation

For director Han, “Lost in Starlight” holds a special meaning not only because it is being released on a global platform, but also because it was motivated from her own romance experience.

Set in Seoul in the year of 2050, the film trails the coming-of-age story of a couple — Nan-young, an aspiring astronaut preparing to leave for Mars, and Jay, a musician struggling with stage fright. As Nan-young heads off into the space and Jay remains on Earth, the story explores how their relationship evolves across time and distance. Nan-young was voiced by actor Kim Tae-ri and Jay by Hong Kyung.

In the film, Jay’s unwavering support for Nan-young’s dreams was inspired by the director’s personal experiences, she revealed.

“I used to be the type of person completely consumed by work,” Han said. “But at the time, I started reflecting on my patterns in love and the way I was living. It made me wonder — does it really have to be a choice between work and love?”

“My obsession with work was, in a way, rooted in anxiety. So I imagined a male lead who could embrace that part of someone — who could say, ‘You’re okay just as you are.’ That idea was deeply influenced by my own relationship at the time, where I found a lot of comfort and reassurance. I tried to bring those emotions to life in the story.”

How 2050 Seoul was made

In the film, the portrayal of Seoul in 2050 — centered largely around Sewoon Plaza, a shopping district still known today for electronics — naturally blends present-day scenery with futuristic elements like large holograms and autonomous driving vehicles.

Striking the right balance in depicting this not-too-far though not not-that-close future setting was one of the director’s most challenging tasks, as she had to carefully navigate that “subtle” in-between area.

To navigate this, she relied on her usual artistic approach: creating a strong “sense of lived-in reality,” something she sees as essential to any worldbuilding.

“That feeling of everyday life is what makes characters feel real — like they’re truly living and breathing in the space — and it also creates meaningful interaction between the characters and their environment,” Han said. “So when we were balancing elements of the past and present, we made a conscious effort to incorporate familiar details that would ground the world in something relatable.”

Rather than conjuring up a distant or abstract future, Han and her team drew inspiration from architectural brand magazines and fashion sources that proposed near-future aesthetics. They also reinterpreted everyday activities with a futuristic twist, such as the way we communicate through smartphones.

“Our team tried to find a sense of the future within the spaces we move through in our everyday lives — something that feels lived-in,” the director said.

A better future for Korean animation

Director Han has been part of the Korean animation scene for 15 years, mostly in the indie field before her collaboration with Netflix. Her first debut project, short animation film “Kopi Luwak” (2010), won the grand prize at the 6th Seoul Independent Animation festival. Since then, she has become a prominent figure in the field. Her 2022 animation film “The Sea on the Day When the Magic Returns” was invited to screen at the 39th Sundance Film Festival and the 34th Palm Springs International Film Festival.

Throughout her decade-plus career, however, the Korean animation industry has largely focused on infants and children, with hits like “Pororo The Little Penguin” and Pinkfong’s “Baby Shark.” Animations aimed at older audiences were rarely considered due to limited distribution channels and profit models.

“In my case, I was fortunate to be on a global platform, which became possible only after a major shift in the landscape,” Han said. “Before that, especially in Korea, launching a 3D animated work commercially had extreme limits.”

“On its own, it couldn’t generate enough profit, so it had to be designed with secondary revenue in mind — mainly through merchandise like toys. That meant the content had to be educational and aimed at infants or young children.”

However, a turning tide is becoming increasingly visible, and Han, along with other Korean animators, is optimistic, especially due to the rise of streaming platforms like Netflix.

“There’s growing momentum around the idea that these platforms will open up new possibilities for creators to propose and launch projects outside the traditional framework,” Han said.

BY KIM JI-YE  [kim.jiye@joongang.co.kr]