‘Scandal Eve’ (2025) Netflix Series Review - A Glamorous Race Against Reputation

Right off the bat, the first episode of Scandal Eve pulls you into that familiar but very addictive world of showbiz scandal and journalistic wars — and yes, it delivers, mostly with style and enough grit to make you want to keep watching. The protagonist, Saki Ioka (played by Ko Shibasaki), is introduced with a mix of poise and panic: she’s the founder of the agency “Rafale,” and she’s no shrinking violet. She has a small but promising talent roster, and her biggest star — “F” (played by Asaka Kodai) — has finally landed a primetime drama. But the win feels hollow: soon after, she gets a call that her star’s personal life could be exposed in a major weekly magazine. The reason? An alleged infidelity scandal. And to make things worse, the reporter behind it is Kanade Hirata (Haruna Kawaguchi), someone ruthless, ambitious, and clearly ready to play hardball.

The setup is classic “tick-tock”: from the very start, there’s a countdown — 72 hours until the article drops. That time pressure gives the episode a strong engine, and the narrative doesn’t waste time. Saki doesn’t just pace around her office; she’s actively plotting, rallying her small but loyal team, calling in favours, trying to manage not only the image of “F” but also what this means for her agency’s fragile brand. The stakes feel real: this is not some overrated mega-agency with endless capital. Rafale is lean, hopeful, and vulnerable, and Saki carries that tension on her back.

The show also strikingly introduces Hirata: not just as a cold journalist, but as someone who genuinely believes in what she is doing. She’s not a caricature of “evil reporter”; she’s opportunistic, but not careless. When she confronts Saki, she’s armed not only with a recorder but with conviction — she seems to think that her exposé is more than gossip, that it’s a necessary truth. That conflict, between Saki’s protectiveness for her client and Hirata’s journalistic mission, forms a satisfying core for the episode.

Performance-wise, Shibasaki is excellent. She carries Saki’s tension, her desperation, and her quiet strength without ever overacting. The way she shifts from composed CEO to someone who’s internally scrambling is very believable. Kawaguchi, as Hirata has enough sharpness to be formidable, and small moments, like her lingering look when she corners Saki in the hallway, are loaded with threat. There’s also a supporting cast: you get glimpses of Saki’s team, her star actor, and a few players in the magazine world, but most of them feel a little underdeveloped in this opening hour. That’s not a huge crime in a show that’s clearly built around the two leads and their battle, but I did find myself wishing for a little more grounding in the agency’s workspace outside of crisis mode.

On the writing front, the script does a smart job of balancing exposition with urgency. We learn about Rafale’s backstory — how Saki left a big agency and built this one — without feeling like we’re stuck in an info dump. The 72-hour countdown is handled well: it’s not just a gimmick, it’s a structural device that informs nearly every beat in this episode, giving each conversation and decision weight. Plus, there are little moral ambiguities: Saki isn’t entirely innocent; she’s made compromises in the past, and Hirata isn’t purely exploitative. That grey zone adds richness.

Direction by Kanai is clean and confident. There’s a real sense of space — the office, the reporter’s world, even Saki’s home life — and the camera lingers on Saki in moments that feel intimate rather than showy, reinforcing how personal this scandal feels to her. The pacing is deliberate but never dull; crisis scenes are interspersed with quieter character moments, so you feel both the pressure and the humanity. Visually, the episode looks polished — lighting leans slightly cool, which suits the drama of the media/unseen-power world, and production design feels authentic for an agency environment.

That said, the episode isn't without its flaws. Sometimes the urgency feels a little forced: there are scenes where Saki seems to make the obvious decisions without the burden of real doubt, as if we’re watching her go through the motions of “what a crisis manager would do” rather than what Saki (as a character) would emotionally do. A few of the confrontations drag a tiny bit, and there are moments where the dialogue slips into “corporate-speak” instead of sounding like real people. Also, while the countdown is a strength, it risks feeling gimmicky if overused — if every scene leans into “clock ticking,” I worry future episodes might stretch the urgency thin.

Another issue is that some character motivations remain murky. We don’t yet understand Hirata’s backstory well enough to fully empathize; she’s ambitious, but why this case? And Saki’s team, while functional, doesn’t yet feel like a living, breathing unit — more like plot tools. For a drama about a talent agency, I would have liked more glimpses into the creative side — rehearsals, casting, showbiz negotiations — beyond just the scandal.

But despite those quibbles, the episode works very well as a pilot. It sets up a clear and high-stakes conflict, introduces compelling central characters, and gives just enough secrets (and power plays) to make you lean into episode two. The emotional core — Saki’s fear of losing not just her star, but her reputation and personal dream — feels grounded. The tension between protecting one’s own and exposing the so-called truth is written in a way that feels timely, especially in a world where media power is both intoxicating and dangerous. The episode doesn’t feel like cheap tabloid drama; instead, it feels smart, strategic, and morally complex.

In short, Scandal Eve starts strong. It’s slick, ambitious, and emotionally invested in its characters. Yes, a few things are under-explored in this opening hour, and the countdown gimmick could wear thin, but the lead performances, the pacing, and the premise more than make up for it. As a series, it feels like it's promising something sharper than your average showbiz drama — and if it keeps this up, it could be one of the most satisfying battles between agency and press in recent memory. I’ll definitely be tuning in for episode two, mostly to see whether Saki really can save her client, but also to find out just how deep this “dark underbelly” of the entertainment world goes.

Final Score- [6.5/10]
Reviewed by - Anjali Sharma
Follow @AnjaliS54769166 on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times