‘Partner Track’ Asks: Can You Have Love and a Career?

I thought I knew what I was getting into with buzzy new Netflix’s show Partner Track: the tried-and-true romcom trope of a woman having to choose between her love life and her career, only this time, the protagonist was Korean American. 

I had imagined it to be the kind of fluffy Friday watch many women love, but one designed specifically for young women of color like me, who once wished to see themselves as Elle Woods in Legally Blonde. But as the series progressed, protagonist Ingrid Yun (Arden Cho) explores not only the plights of being a lady boss in a corporate world, but also the complex moral trappings of the model minority myth. I can relate—but I also wish the show would have nailed the romcom part before taking on more.

Based on the novel by Helen Wan, Partner Track is one of the many book-to-TV adaptations  brought to life this year. The 10-episode series was created by showrunner Georgia Lee (Red Doors and The Expanse) and produced by Jax Media (Uncoupled and Russian Doll); the storyline falls somewhere between fairly accurate and insightful social commentary and a sloppily done love story that ropes you in quickly but fails to deliver in the long run. 

Cho’s Ingrid Yun is a whip-smart, fierce character who is eager to be the first Asian American junior partner at Parsons Valentine and Hunt, an elite white-shoe law firm in Manhattan with a culture so toxic it’s hard to understand her enthusiasm. As Ingrid bargains and fights her way through the typical male power structures, she wrestles with what it means to be true to herself. Her story is a bittersweet one that is frustrating to watch at times, because while her capabilities are never in doubt, it becomes clear that the institutionalized patriarchy and corporate bureaucracy are working against her. It’s uncomfortable in its familiarity for women, and particularly women of color. She represents the stereotypical second-generation immigrants who have been taught to keep their heads down despite the constant barrage of microaggressions they face. 

Her family dynamics illustrate her very predictable predicament: her sister Anna (Lena Ahn) is the black sheep of the family, making nothing but bad choices that position Ingrid as the “perfect” daughter, and her parents Soo Jung Yun (Esther Moon) and Sang Hoon Yun (Jo Sung) vociferously believe in the system’s meritocracy, constantly advising her to ride the wave and do the work.

As Ingrid is intent on climbing her way up the corporate ladder to partner, she is taken aback when a competitive transfer from the firm's London branch turns out to be an old flame, Jeff Murphy (Dominic Sherwood). His arrival is framed as an obstacle to her career trajectory, but her opinion of him clearly toggles between forbidden love interest and professional competition. To distract herself from him, she allows herself to get charmed into a relationship with another average-looking white guy, Nick Laren (Rob Heaps) and soon enters romcom’s most predictable trope: the love triangle.

So much of the romance subplot (or main plot?) hinges on inexistent chemistry between Ingrid and either of these supposed lovers. The love story I was waiting to happen was between her and her client’s son, Z Min (hunky Asian Australian actor Desmond Chiam), whose chemistry was more enjoyable to watch, although not explored. At the midpoint of the show, we see Ingrid walking a tightrope between being a naive, hopeless romantic and a cutthroat lawyer leading a thorny environmental merger. Ultimately, though the pilot teases a captivating character, Partner Track fails to fully realize Ingrid and keep viewers invested in her world. 

Perhaps the most interesting characters are her best friends and co-workers, stylish and cheeky Tyler (Bradley Gibson), who struggles to combat racism and white fragility in the workplace, and the droll and charming Rachel (Alexandra Turshen) who is navigating the decidedly millennial storyline of follow her passions to a new career path or sticking with a stable job that doesn’t bring her any joy. Seeing these two as fully fleshed-out characters gives them a dimension the show is otherwise lacking.

Tyler’s storyline helps highlight the level of toxicity at the firm, both in how management and coworkers deal with being faced with racism and how Ingrid makes a decision about whether or not she’s willing to turn a blind eye in order to succeed. Venomous bosses are usually fun to watch on screen, but here, they are given no redeeming qualities and contexts, not even a bit of comedy. Marty Adler (Matthew Rauch) is Ingrid’s boss and the one deciding who makes partner,  meaning Ingrid is often forced to grovel at his feet to prove her worthiness, in comparison to her white counterparts who seemingly sail through. When she sees racial injustice play out, she’s forced with some difficult decisions about the impacts of her actions (or inactions). 

Though Partner Track over promises and under delivers on the romance, we’re still pulling for Ingrid and her love life—if it gets picked up for a second season. Its corporate conflict may feel prepackaged, but the more we can familiarize audiences with the plight of the model minority, the better.