Blackpink’s Lisa at center of racial discrimination row: Exclusive firsthand account

MALAYSIAN CINEMAS, SEOUL, THAILAND, US (COACHELLA, RCA RECORDS, THE WHITE LOTUS SET), TORONTO, 12 OCTOBER 2026 —

Blackpink’s Lisa in Crisis: How a Viral Scandal, Death Threats and a Solo Break Reshaped K-Pop’s Most Controversial Star

K-pop superstar Lisa Manobal, one-quarter of global phenomenon Blackpink, found herself at the center of a racial controversy in 2025 that exposed the dark side of the industry’s training system—and forced her to confront the consequences of a decade-old mistake.

As leaked videos of her and her bandmates using racial slurs during teenage rehearsals surfaced, Lisa faced a storm of fan backlash, death threats, and a record label ban on public statements, all while preparing for a historic Coachella performance that never fully materialized as intended.

The scandal, which erupted while Lisa was rehearsing for Coachella, revealed a painful truth: the 15- or 16-year-old trainee who recorded herself and her peers covering US rap songs—including uncensored use of the n-word—had no understanding of the term’s offensive weight. In a raw, unfiltered moment captured in the new documentary Always Lalisa, directed by Sue Kim, Lisa breaks down in her dressing room, admitting, “It’s bad. Now I know better.

Now I know that word is sensitive because I’m from Thailand and my first language is not English.” Her response—unscripted, unpolished, and deeply human—contrasted sharply with the sanitized PR apologies that typically follow such crises.

The documentary, set for release in Malaysian cinemas on Monday, 12 October, offers an unprecedented look at the fallout from the controversy. Kim, who gained unprecedented access to Lisa during the crisis, describes the moment as “one of the most important scenes” in the film. “I asked her one question, and she just talked for an hour,” Kim tells the BBC.

“There was no premeditation, no media training—just stream of consciousness.” Lisa’s vulnerability—her exhaustion, her shame, and her frustration—was so genuine that Kim says “it’s impossible not to feel compassion for her.”

Yet the scandal did more than damage Lisa’s reputation. It overshadowed the launch of her highly anticipated solo debut album, Alter Ego, and left her grappling with online harassment. “To a certain extent, I have to take [the criticism] and compromise,” she says in the film, “but sometimes, it’s too much.” The threats were severe enough that safety concerns became a constant presence in her daily life, even as she pushed forward with public appearances.

Beyond the controversy, Always Lalisa delves into Lisa’s broader struggle within the K-pop system—a rigid structure that restricts personal freedoms, from alcohol consumption to relationships, in the name of maintaining a “clean” public image.

“I don’t want my dating to be the thing to hurt Blackpink’s popularity,” she admits, “but when I turned 25, I realized this is not how you’re supposed to live your life.” That realization led her to make a bold move: leaving her longtime management under YG Entertainment to sign with RCA Records in the US, a decision Kim calls “an immense amount of courage.”

Lisa’s journey toward independence is central to the documentary. Early footage shows a precocious seven-year-old competing in talent shows, a far cry from the conflicted 25-year-old navigating studio sessions where she battles self-doubt and vocal criticism. “I saw a person who was very tentative and unsure of herself slowly starting to unfold her wings,” Kim observes. “Making mistakes, but also getting back up on the horse.”

Her break from K-pop’s constraints came through her role in The White Lotus Season 3, where she played wellness coach Mook Sornsin. On set, she embraced a lifestyle far removed from her pop-star persona—throwing tequila-fueled parties that left crew members exhausted. “Lisa threw more parties than anyone else,” the show’s executive producer notes.

“And the defining characteristic of a Lisa party is tequila shots.” Kim, who declined to partake, later received bottles of tequila from Lisa at the film’s Toronto premiere—a symbolic gesture of freedom.

The documentary ends in June 2025, as Lisa returns to Seoul and rejoins Blackpink, her bags unpacked but her emotions conflicted. “It’s bittersweet,” Kim reflects, “and that’s OK.” Lisa’s fear—that she wouldn’t retain the independence she fought for—was a prescient one. In the year since, she has already wrapped her Blackpink duties and launched Phase Two of her solo career with the single Sawadika, a move Kim describes as “exactly what we expected.”

For Malaysian and regional audiences, Lisa’s story resonates beyond K-pop’s global reach. Her struggle with cultural insensitivity, industry pressures, and the cost of fame mirrors broader conversations about accountability, mental health, and artistic freedom in Asia’s entertainment landscape. While Always Lalisa is ultimately a marketing product—commissioned by Lisa’s record label—its raw honesty sets it apart. “She never asked me to remove a single scene,” Kim says. “That’s exceptional.”

The film’s release coincides with a pivotal moment for Lisa, who now stands at the crossroads of her career: a solo artist reclaiming agency, a Blackpink member balancing global expectations, and a public figure still grappling with the fallout of a past mistake. As Kim puts it, “Spending the year away from the K-pop system in the US really opened…”—a sentence left unfinished, but the implication clear: Lisa’s story is far from over.