From makjang to BL: a guide to the most popular Asian drama genres

Literally “martial heroes,” wuxia is the sword-wielding heart of Chinese drama. For this type of drama genre, expect elements of fantasy, philosophy, and martial arts in an epic tradition that spans centuries. Rooted in Confucian ideals of integrity and Daoist notions of transcendence, these stories follow wandering knights-errant who glide across rooftops, duel in bamboo groves and pledge their lives to justice in a world where imperial law often fails.

Unlike Western superheroes, wuxia protagonists are mortal. However, thanks to training, discipline and moral conviction, they achieve near-mythic feats. Their battles are as much about ethics and loyalty as swordplay, reflecting a uniquely Chinese worldview where personal honour and collective duty intertwine. From the serialised novels of Jin Yong (The Condor Heroes Trilogy) to Ang Lee’s Academy Award-winning Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, wuxia has leapt from page to screen to global cinema, shaping how the world sees Chinese identity and martial philosophy.

Helpful terms and tropes to know:

• Jianghu: the martial underworld, literally “rivers and lakes,” where martial heroes roam outside state control
• Shifu: the revered master who teaches the hero martial and moral discipline
• Martial brother/sister: fellow disciples bound by loyalty and shared lineage in their martial school
• Sword duel at dawn: the ritualised test of honour, often at a cliff’s edge, bamboo forest or temple courtyard

Don’t confuse xianxia with other fantastical drama genres. If wuxia is grounded in the mortal world, xianxia is cosmic in scope. Literally “immortal heroes,” these dramas juggle martial arts with Taoist philosophy, folklore and metaphysics. Instead of knights-errant, we follow cultivators—mortals who train body and spirit in pursuit of transcendence, immortality and, sometimes, godhood. Where wuxia duels are tethered to honour and dynastic order, xianxia battles take place across realms, where fate and the cosmos hang in the balance.

Glowing immortal realms, cloud-wrapped mountains, demon kingdoms and celestial courts characterise xianxia dramas. The genre revels in world-building. If you’ve heard about C-dramas stretching over 40 episodes, it’s because the plots go through lifetimes and reincarnations. Modern adaptations like The Untamed (2019) and Ashes of Love (2018) have propelled the genre to global fandom, with viewers drawn not just to the magical creatures and divine wars but also to the way xianxia dramatises universal questions: What does it mean to transcend? What do we sacrifice to hold onto love?

Helpful terms and tropes to know:

• Cultivation: the disciplined process of gaining spiritual and physical power through meditation, martial training and Taoist practices.
• Immortal realm vs. mortal realm: the central divide, where romance across planes guarantees tragedy or destiny-defying struggle.
• Heavenly tribulation: cosmic trials, often manifesting as lightning storms, that cultivators must endure to ascend.
• Demonic cultivation: forbidden arts that promise power but risk corruption, moral decay, or exile from the immortal order

See more: No swords or spells: 10 highly recommended Chinese dramas that aren’t wuxia or xianxia

Literally translating to “historical drama,” sageuk is South Korea’s stage for dynastic spectacle. These dramas reimagine the rise and fall of kingdoms, the precarious lives of crown princes and the delicate yet cutthroat politics of the royal court. At their best, they fuse meticulous historical research with contemporary storytelling. After all, Joseon palace intrigue can be as addictive as any modern-day political thriller.

The range within the genre is vast: it can be austere and reverent (Jewel in the Palace, 2003), action-packed (Six Flying Dragons, 2015), or gleefully hybridised (Kingdom, 2019). Beyond spectacle, sageuk has cultural weight: it reflects Korea’s preoccupation with hierarchy, loyalty, and the tragic cost of power. The elaborate hanbok, palatial architecture, and Confucian rituals turn every scene into a living tableau, both exotic and aspirational.

Helpful terms and tropes to know:

• Norigae politics: court ladies and concubines wielding power through whispers and alliances, often underestimated but crucial in palace survival
• Crown prince curse: heirs apparent are perpetually targets of coups, poisonings or exile; becoming king is often the least enviable fate
• Hanbok glamour: the lavish costumes are not just decorative, but narrative, signaling virtue or corruption.
• Royal secret birth: switched infants, hidden heirs or illegitimate children threatening the line of succession—a perennial source of dramatic upheaval
• Forbidden love across ranks: palace maids, scholars or guards entangled with royalty, threatening honour and stability

Don’t miss: Are C-dramas taking over? 6 Chinese dramas to convert you

Some drama genres develop from other countries. The Boys’ Love drama began in Japan as a manga and anime subculture. But, in the last decade, it has become Thailand’s most influential cultural export. Sweet, slow-burn romances between young men—often set against the backdrop of universities, dorm rooms, or rehearsal stages—have found fervent fan bases stretching from Manila to Madrid, São Paulo to Seoul.

Part of BL’s power lies in its tenderness. Unlike Hollywood, where queer love stories are often coded in tragedy, Thai BL dramas, such as 2gether: The Series (2020) and Bad Buddy (2021), spotlight affection, playfulness and first love with unabashed sincerity. At the same time, they tap into the fervour of fandom: actors are “shipped” as real-life couples and fan service blurs the line between performance and reality. The genre has become both soft diplomacy and big business for Thailand.

Helpful terms and tropes to know:

• Ship: pairing two leads romantically, short for “relationship.” Entire fan economies thrive on shipping culture
• Fan service: staged gestures like near-kisses or suggestive banter, designed to delight audiences and fuel fanfiction
• Seme/uke: borrowed from Japanese yaoi, describing dominant/submissive roles in the couple, though modern BL often subverts these binaries
• University setting: the most common backdrop, symbolising youthful innocence and revelation.
• Couple merch: BL duos become brands themselves, with their likenesses on everything from photo books to potato chips

Read more: Samurai culture, gender inequality and a quest for empowerment: understanding Boys’ Love literature’s growing appeal

The granddaddy of Thai drama genres, lakorn thrives on melodrama. Expect inheritance feuds, star-crossed lovers and revenge arcs that stretch across generations. These are essentially Mexican telenovelas with a Southeast Asian twist. Unlike Thai BL, which leans tender, lakorn goes big: dramatic music cues, slap-kiss romances and villains with eyebrows sharp enough to cut glass. Dip your toes into this soap opera category with the likes of Sila (2019) and My Husband in Law (2020).

Helpful terms and tropes to know:

• Nang’ek: the heroine, usually virtuous and long-suffering
• Pra’ek: the male lead, often arrogant until softened by love
• Evil stepmother: a stock villainess archetype
• Forced marriage trope: duty or revenge pushing reluctant lovers together

Set between 1912 and 1949, Republican Era dramas unfold in a China caught between tradition and modernity. Espionage networks, war-torn romances and smoky jazz clubs where revolutionaries plot over cocktails are the essential characteristics of this soap opera type. The aesthetic is irresistible: watch popular C-dramas, like Arsenal Military Academy (2019) and Winter Begonia (2020), and you will marvel at the military uniforms, qipao glamour and Art Deco backdrops that make every frame feel like a period film.

Helpful terms and tropes to know:

• Spy romance: lovers divided by patriotism and betrayal
• Qipao glamour: the era’s iconic high-collared dresses
• Brotherhood pacts: sworn male friendships tested by loyalty
• Tragic endings: a nod to the chaos of the time

“Period drama” by another name, Japan’s jidaigeki plunges viewers into the Edo era, where the rigid codes of the samurai collide with the struggles of merchants, farmers and townsfolk. These dramas are equal parts action and morality play: a wandering ronin weighed down by past sins, corrupt magistrates exposed by clever commoners, sword fights staged with balletic precision. The atmosphere is steeped in tatami rooms, paper lanterns and a constant tension between duty and desire. Famous examples include Shinsengumi! (2004) and countless Hissatsu series.

Helpful terms and tropes to know:

• Ronin: masterless samurai as tragic heroes
• Bushidō: the warrior code of loyalty and sacrifice
• Chambara: stylised sword-fight sequences, often as showstopping set pieces
• Seppuku scene: the ultimate display of honour, devastating yet cathartic

If jidaigeki is the everyday bread and butter of samurai storytelling, taiga drama is the grand banquet. Produced annually by broadcasting company NHK since 1963, these year-long historical epics are Japan’s equivalent of prestige television. Examples include Sanada Maru (2016) and Kamakura-dono no 13-nin (2022). They are lavishly funded, meticulously researched and anchored by A-list casts. Each season plunges deep into a pivotal figure or era, stretching across 40 to 50 episodes to unpack decades of power struggles and triumphs. Watching a taiga isn’t just entertainment; it’s cultural education. It’s an entertaining way to teach national memory: by infusing it into prime-time drama.

Helpful terms and tropes to know:

• Big-budget spectacle: sprawling sets, elaborate battles and ornate costumes
• Historical accuracy: storylines often based on actual diaries, chronicles or historical research
• Clan loyalty: political alliances and betrayals drive the narrative arc
• Generational saga: families torn or united over decades of upheaval

If anime is ink on paper, shōjo live action brings those dreamy panels of fluttering eyelashes, accidental hand brushes and love confessions beneath cherry blossoms to life. Adapted from shōjo manga (romance stories aimed at young women), these dramas lean into heightened emotions: the thrill of a senpai noticing you, the ache of a love triangle, the suspense of a cultural festival climax. They’re comfort food for the heart, where blushing high schoolers embody first love in all its awkward intensity. Beyond the clichés, these shows tap into universal nostalgia—that fleeting, bittersweet sense of growing up while falling in love for the first time. The best example? The world-famous Hana Yori Dango (2005).

Helpful terms and tropes to know:

• Senpai: the older student/crush dynamic, ripe for longing stares
• Cultural festival confession: the school event finale where feelings burst out
• Prince character: the aloof, handsome male lead, secretly soft inside
• Girl-next-door heroine: clumsy, lovable, endlessly relatable

Broadcast in the morning by NHK, asadora (“morning dramas”) are Japan’s cultural alarm clock. These 15-minute daily episodes have been a national ritual since the 1960s. Usually centred on a woman’s life journey, these shows are designed to be light, inspirational, and family-friendly, offering both comfort and motivation before the workday begins. The heroines often start from humble beginnings (think a farmer’s daughter, a small-town dreamer) and persevere through decades of hardship and triumph, embodying the ganbaru spirit of endurance. Along the way, asadora dramas double as cultural preservation projects, spotlighting regional traditions, dialects and crafts, making them as much about Japan’s collective memory as about individual stories.

Helpful terms and tropes to know:

• Ganbaru spirit: perseverance through hardship and setbacks
• Local pride: showcasing regional cultures, crafts, and dialects
• Slice-of-life tone: gentle pacing that mirrors daily struggles and joys
• Generational storytelling: narratives often span decades of family history

The Filipino umbrella term for serialised primetime dramas, teleserye are more national rituals than just primetime entertainment. Families tune in after dinner, street corners go quiet and characters’ names spill into everyday conversation. Born from the Latin American telenovela tradition but made distinct by Filipino sensibilities, teleserye shows layer soap opera intensity with uniquely local themes: sprawling family dynasties, overseas workers’ sacrifices or the eternal struggle of bida, the hero, versus kontrabida, or villain. The system dominates Philippine pop culture and has launched the careers of many of the country’s top actors.

In a country where fiction often collides with reality, the most popular teleserye can hold the power to shape not just nightly routines but national mood.

Over the decades, the teleserye genre has splintered into subgenres, each amplifying various slices of the Filipino imagination.

Helpful terms and tropes to know:

• Fantaserye, AKA telefantasya: fantasy-driven dramas (Encantadia, Mulawin) where soap tropes collide with parallel worlds, magic and mythical creatures drawn from folklore
• Chickserye: teen- and romance-centred series tied to the country’s beloved “love teams” (On the Wings of Love, Got to Believe), where kilig (romantic thrill) reigns supreme
• Actionserye: gunfights, kidnappings and revenge arcs, with indestructible heroes standing in for folk champions (Ang Probinsyano)
• Romcom-serye: sitcom pacing fused with romance (Be Careful with My Heart) that brings levity to primetime

NOW READ

10 most powerful chaebol families in K-dramas

10 timeless Asian period dramas

Done with Korean shows? What you need to know before switching to C-dramas