[REVIEW]

Warning: This article may contain spoilers for Netflix’s documentary “BTS: The Return.”

They live in the moment, shoulder their responsibilities and “Swim” forward together with their brothers. That is the takeaway about BTS from Netflix’s upcoming documentary “BTS: The Return.”

Directed by Bao Nguyen, “BTS: The Return” documents the process of how the group created its fifth studio album “Arirang,” which just dropped last week amid much fanfare. It focuses less on spectacle and more on digging deep into the musical agony and pressure that come with holding the title of world's biggest K-pop group and returning after nearly four years away.


A large part of the film unfolds during the members’ two-month stay together in Los Angeles. For a band that began its journey living under one roof but has long moved into separate houses, the return to being roommates again feels both unfamiliar and deeply nostalgic.

Stripped of the grandeur of stadiums and global stages, the film lingers on small, intimate moments: the members swimming, playing volleyball or simply laughing together. In one particularly memorable scene, Jimin dives into the ocean, prompting carefree laughter from the others. It is through these unscripted fragments that the documentary quietly makes its point that behind the global phenomenon, they are still after all just ordinary young men.

That sense of intimacy continues around the dining table, where the members gather to share meals and speak candidly about their thoughts and concerns regarding the album. Conversations flow over drinks like soju, revealing raw and unfiltered emotions with moments of doubt, reflection and mutual reassurance. These scenes do not dramatize their struggles but instead present them with a disarming honesty.

For viewers outside the fandom, these moments may be the most striking. In such raw and intimate scenes, a sense of relatability emerges — a reminder that these globally-known stars are, in many ways, just like us, each carrying their own burdens and pushing forward through hard work.

The film also underscores the group’s defining dynamic: brotherhood and being a second family. It seems evident that this bond is what allows BTS to move — or, as the band phrases it, “Swim” — forward together, balancing authenticity with the immense responsibility of representing not only themselves but also all of Korea on a global stage.

At the same time, the documentary does not shy away from the pressures that accompany that role. The process of building a long-awaited album in the face of intense global anticipation proves anything but easy. The members are seen revisiting ideas, questioning choices and holding one another to high standards, revealing a level of rigor that often goes unnoticed by the public.

Seeing how individual songs evolved, like “Body to Body” and “Swim,” becomes an interesting process for viewers to watch.

There is also an intimate layer to the film. Through the members’ self-shot footage captured on a camcorder — what the director describes as “home video” vibes — the audience is offered a more personal perspective, one that feels less like observation and more like participation. These unpolished moments further dissolve the distance between artist and viewer.

Ultimately, “BTS: The Return” goes beyond simply documenting the process of making the album “Arirang.” It offers, instead, a closer look at BTS as people and as individuals. And for those outside ARMY, the film may present something perhaps unexpected: A chance to reconsider what lies behind the image of a K-pop star and to see, within it, something profoundly human.

Netflix's documentary “BTS: The Return” will be released on Friday.

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