Lisa was 15-16 when leaked videos showed her using racial slurs while rehearsing rap songs, unaware of the term's offensive history due to her Thai background and non-English first language. Director Sue Kim gained unprecedented access to Lisa during the crisis, capturing an unscripted, hour-long emotional response where Lisa acknowledged wrongdoing without media training or label approval.
Documentary captures Lisa's raw response to racial slur scandal amid solo career pivot
Now I know better. But I did wrong.
So the documentary captures Lisa during the racial slur scandal—but it sounds like the real story is about her breaking free from K-pop's control system. Which one is the actual center of the film?
Both, really. The scandal is the crisis that forces everything into the open. But what makes it powerful is that it happens right as she's trying to launch solo. The vulnerability she shows in that dressing room scene—that's not just about apologizing. It's about her being honest when she's not allowed to be.
I want to be careful here. The documentary was commissioned by her record label's film division. That's a marketing product, even if it's a good one. How much of Lisa's "freedom" on screen is actually freedom, and how much is a carefully curated version of rebellion that still serves the label?
That's fair. But Kim says Lisa never asked her to remove a single scene. That's unusual. And the label did forbid her from issuing a statement about the scandal—so there was real tension there, not just theater.
When Lisa talks about not understanding the slur because she's Thai and English isn't her first language—does that explanation land in the film, or does it feel like a defense?
It lands as context, not excuse. She says "I did wrong." She doesn't hide behind the language barrier. She says now she knows better. It's the opposite of a PR non-apology.
But we should note: this is one documentary's portrayal of one moment. Lisa did give a public apology to Variety later, and the source says some people remained unconvinced. So the film's version of events isn't the whole story of how the scandal was resolved.
The bit about her discovering tequila shots and parties in the US—is that meant to be funny, or is it actually showing something important about the difference between the two systems?
Both. It's funny, but it's also the visual proof of what she's saying: in the US system, dating and having a life doesn't destroy your career. The parties are the evidence.
Though we should be careful not to romanticize either system. The K-pop restrictions are real and oppressive. But the US entertainment system has its own problems. The film seems to present it as liberation, but that's a partial view.
So what happens next? Does she actually stay solo, or does she go back to Blackpink full-time?
She's already done both. The film ends in June 2025 when she returns to Seoul. But by now—a year later—she's wrapped up her Blackpink duties and released a new solo single called Sawadika. So she's choosing the solo path.
Though we don't know what that will look like long-term. The film ends with her conflicted, and that's honest. Whether she can actually maintain that freedom, or whether the K-pop system will pull her back in, that's still an open question.
Le Pouls
- Lisa was 15-16 when leaked videos showed her using racial slurs during rap rehearsals
- Director Sue Kim captured an unscripted, hour-long response in Lisa's dressing room during the Coachella crisis in 2025
- Lisa left YG Entertainment to sign with RCA Records in the US, breaking from K-pop's restrictions on dating and alcohol
- She won a role in The White Lotus season 3 and has since released solo single Sawadika
Lisa was 15-16 when leaked videos showed her using racial slurs while rehearsing rap songs, unaware of the term's offensive history due to her Thai background and non-English first language. Director Sue Kim gained unprecedented access to Lisa during the crisis, capturing an unscripted, hour-long emotional response where Lisa acknowledged wrongdoing without media training or label approval.
A new documentary follows K-pop idol Lisa Manobal as she navigates a racial slur controversy from her teenage years while launching her solo career, capturing her vulnerable response to the scandal.
Sue Kim's documentary arrives in cinemas this week carrying something rare in celebrity filmmaking: a moment of genuine crisis, unscripted and unfiltered. The film, titled Always Lalisa, follows Lisa Manobal—a member of the global K-pop juggernaut Blackpink and recent breakout star of HBO's The White Lotus—through one of the most destabilizing periods of her career, beginning with a scandal that erupted without warning.
Last year, leaked videos surfaced showing Blackpink's members using racial slurs during rehearsals when they were teenage trainees. The clips captured them covering American rap songs, with explicit language left uncensored. For Lisa, the timing could not have been worse. The controversy broke while she was preparing for a major performance at Coachella in 2025, a moment meant to mark her emergence as a solo artist. Some fans demanded an apology. Her record label, however, forbade the band from issuing any public statement. The silence only amplified the noise.
With her team in crisis mode, Kim made an unusual request. She asked Lisa if she would speak candidly on camera, knowing the label had muzzled her. "I honestly expected her to say no," Kim recalls. Instead, Lisa agreed. In her dressing room, the singer lay down on a sofa and spoke for an hour without preparation or media coaching. "It's bad," Lisa said, her voice carrying both shame and confusion. She explained that she had been fifteen or sixteen when the videos were shot, and that as a Thai national whose first language was not English, she had not understood the term's historical weight. She had only encountered it in rap music. "Now I would never ever do that because, now, I've got education," she said. "Now I know better. But I did wrong." It was the opposite of a polished PR statement—raw, uncertain, and human. Kim describes it as one of the most important scenes in the film. "There was no premeditation on Lisa's part, there was no media training," she says. "What you see with Lisa in that moment is so genuine, it's impossible not to feel compassion for her."
The scandal overshadowed what should have been a triumphant moment: the launch of Lisa's debut solo album, Alter Ego. The documentary captures her receiving death threats, pressing forward with public appearances while safety concerns churned in her mind. "To a certain extent I have to take criticism and compromise," she says, exhausted, "but sometimes, it's too much." Yet the film's larger narrative arc concerns something deeper than crisis management. It documents Lisa's decision to step away from K-pop's suffocating constraints and pursue a solo career in the Western music market.
At twenty-five, Lisa was already one of the world's most famous women, with millions in record sales and endorsement deals from Louis Vuitton and Bvlgari. But the K-pop system that had made her a star also controlled her life. She was forbidden from drinking alcohol or dating. "I don't want my dating to be the thing to hurt Blackpink's popularity," she explains in the film. When she turned twenty-five, she realized this was not how she wanted to live. She made the difficult choice to leave YG Entertainment, the Korean company that had discovered and trained her as a teenager, and signed with RCA Records in the United States. "Knowing her as I do, that took an immense amount of courage," Kim says. "Having been trained in the K-pop system from an early age, she grew acclimatised to obedience. Declaring that she wants a break is such a disruption to that way of life."
The documentary follows Lisa through this transition with unusual candor. Kim captures her struggling in the recording studio, tearfully battling insecurity about her voice, and wrestling with self-doubt. At twenty-five, Lisa still carried a child-like quality, despite her global fame. But as filming progressed, something shifted. "I saw a person who was very tentative and unsure of herself slowly starting to unfold her wings," Kim observes. Lisa pursued a role in the third season of The White Lotus and won it through a self-taped audition, playing a wellness coach named Mook Sornsin. On set, she shed the moral restrictions of her pop career. The show's executive producer notes that "Lisa threw more parties than anyone else," and that tequila shots became the defining feature of those gatherings. Kim's crew struggled to keep pace with Lisa's schedule, falling sick from exhaustion. When the film premiered in Toronto, Lisa found Kim and handed her bottles of tequila—a playful acknowledgment of the freedom she had discovered.
The documentary ends in June 2025 as Lisa returns to Seoul to rejoin Blackpink, unpacking her bags with visible conflict. "It's bittersweet, and I think that's OK," Kim says. "I don't think people should take it as like, 'Oh, she hates Blackpink'. It's more that she was reflecting on this year of freedom and worrying that she wouldn't be able to retain that." In the year since, Lisa has already completed her Blackpink obligations and launched the next phase of her solo career with the single Sawadika. Kim believes the year away from the K-pop system fundamentally changed her perspective. "She was exposed to a different kind of entertainment system where they're not held to a vow of chastity," Kim explains. "That gave her a sense of like, 'Oh, I could have a different life. I might not lose my career if I want to get married and have children'. So I think part of the reason why Lisa's interested in continuing her solo career is that it might give her a little bit more personal freedom to be who she is."
Citations marquantes
There was no premeditation on Lisa's part, there was no media training. What you see with Lisa in that moment is so genuine, it's impossible not to feel compassion for her.— Director Sue Kim, describing Lisa's response to the scandal
I don't want my dating to be the thing to hurt Blackpink's popularity. But when I turned 25, I realised that this is not how you're supposed to live your life.— Lisa Manobal, in the documentary