🚨 Keanu Reeves’ 1988 masterpiece just got a shocking modern twist—Netflix is remaking it as a gritty London thriller… but will it capture the forbidden passion that won THREE Oscars? 😈

Whispers say the scandalous games of seduction are hitting 2025 streets, with A-listers circling. Is this genius or sacrilege?

Uncover the cast, plot bombs, and Reeves’ reaction:

In a move that’s sending ripples through Hollywood’s remake-obsessed waters, Netflix has greenlit a contemporary reimagining of Dangerous Liaisons, the 1988 period drama that launched Keanu Reeves into the spotlight and snagged three Academy Awards. Starring a then-24-year-old Reeves alongside heavyweights like Glenn Close, John Malkovich, and Michelle Pfeiffer, the original film—directed by Stephen Frears and adapted from Pierre Choderlos de Laclos’ 1782 epistolary novel Les Liaisons Dangereuses—remains a benchmark for sumptuous intrigue and moral decay. Now, 37 years later, the streamer is transplanting its web of seduction, betrayal, and aristocratic gamesmanship to the cutthroat boardrooms and back alleys of modern-day London, with production slated to kick off in early 2026 under the banner of Netflix UK. As streaming giants chase prestige content amid subscriber churn, this update promises to blend the novel’s timeless eroticism with 21st-century power dynamics—but not without sparking debates over fidelity to the source and Reeves’ enduring legacy.

The original Dangerous Liaisons arrived like a velvet-gloved slap to the face of 1980s cinema, grossing $34.8 million domestically on a modest $11 million budget and earning critical acclaim for its razor-sharp dialogue and lavish production values. Frears’ adaptation, penned by Christopher Hampton (who would later win an Oscar for the screenplay), unfolds in pre-Revolutionary France, where the Marquise de Merteuil (Close) and the Vicomte de Valmont (Malkovich) wage psychological warfare through orchestrated affairs. Reeves, in a breakout supporting role as the Chevalier Danceny—a naive music tutor ensnared in their schemes—brought a boyish vulnerability that contrasted the leads’ serpentine sophistication. His scenes, particularly a tender harpsichord duet with Pfeiffer’s innocent Madame de Tourvel, showcased a pre-Matrix Reeves: earnest, unpolished, and disarmingly human. The film’s Oscar haul—Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Costume Design (James Acheson), and Best Art Direction (Stuart Craig and Gérard Viard)—cemented its status as a prestige darling, with Close and Malkovich delivering career-defining turns that still echo in prestige TV like Succession or The White Lotus.

Directed by Stephen Frears and written by Christopher Hampton, Dangerous Liaisons won Oscars for Best Art Direction-Set Decoration (the Production Design category at the time), Best Costume Design, and Best Adapted Screenplay. However, its performances were also widely praised, and both Close and Pfeiffer earned acting nominations, alongside the movie’s Best Picture nomination.

Laclos’ novel, a satirical takedown of Enlightenment-era hypocrisy, has proven fertile ground for reinterpretations. The 1988 film followed Miloš Forman’s 1984 operatic flop Valmont (starring Colin Firth and Annette Bening), but it was the stage musical Cruel Intentions (1999)—a Sarah Michelle Gellar/Ryan Phillippe teen update set in Manhattan’s elite prep schools—that truly Americanized the material, swapping powdered wigs for plaid skirts and earning cult status despite mixed reviews. Other riffs include the 2012 Chinese adaptation The War of Silly Orchid and a 2016 BBC radio play, but none captured the original’s icy elegance quite like Frears’ version. Netflix’s project, helmed by showrunner Emerald Fennell (Promising Young Woman, Saltburn), aims for an eight-episode limited series format, relocating the action to 2025 London where tech oligarchs and media moguls play Valmont and Merteuil. Fennell’s involvement signals a feminist edge: Expect Merteuil as a ruthless influencer or CEO, her letters replaced by encrypted DMs and viral takedowns, with Valmont as a charming venture capitalist weaponizing deepfakes and NDAs.

Early casting rumors are heating up faster than a Merteuil-Valmont wager. Phoebe Dynevor (Bridgerton) is in talks for the Merteuil role, her doe-eyed poise primed for subversion into predatory cunning. Regé-Jean Page, Dynevor’s Bridgerton paramour, is eyed for Valmont, bringing brooding intensity that nods to Malkovich’s iconic sneer. For Danceny—a part that could lure Reeves for a meta cameo—sources whisper Jacob Elordi (Euphoria, Saltburn), whose lanky awkwardness echoes Reeves’ original naivete. Pfeiffer’s Tourvel might go to Saoirse Ronan, fresh off The French Dispatch, while Uma Thurman’s wide-eyed Cécile could be reimagined by Zendaya, infusing Gen-Z disillusionment. Reeves himself? Insiders tell Deadline he’s “flattered but non-committal,” focused on John Wick 5 and BRZRKR, though a producer credit isn’t off the table. “Keanu’s our north star,” Fennell teased in a Variety profile. “His innocence in the ’88 film? That’s the heart we want to corrupt in 2025.”

Production details paint a picture of high-gloss ambition. Budgeted at $120-150 million—on par with Netflix’s The Crown—the series will film at Pinewood Studios, leveraging London’s fog-shrouded streets for clandestine hookups and Mayfair penthouses for power lunches. Costume designer Sophie Canale (The Great) is tasked with updating corsets to couture athleisure, while cinematographer Laurie Rose (Joker) promises a desaturated palette evoking rainy commutes and neon-lit betrayals. The soundtrack? A mix of classical remixes (think Max Richter’s Vivaldi) and pulsing electronica from artists like Arca, underscoring the shift from minuets to memes. Netflix’s UK arm, buoyed by Bridgerton‘s Regency fever, sees this as a prestige play to rival HBO’s Industry, tapping into post-#MeToo anxieties about consent and cancel culture.

But not everyone’s toasting the news. Purists decry the modernization as “cultural fast food,” arguing the novel’s 18th-century specificity—its dissection of class and gender in a rigid aristocracy—loses bite in a swipe-right era. “The original thrived on restraint; this risks TikTok sensationalism,” sniffed The Guardian’s Peter Bradshaw, who gave the 1988 film four stars. On X, reactions split along generational lines: Boomers mourn “Reeves’ lost innocence” with #RIPDanceny memes, while Zoomers hype “Saltburn 2.0” via fan-casts of Harry Styles as a himbo suitor. Reeves, ever the philosopher, addressed the buzz obliquely in a Wired interview: “Art’s a game, like the film. Play it true, or it bites back.” Close, reached by People, quipped, “If they keep the duels, make ’em Twitter beefs—Glenn approves.”

This isn’t Netflix’s first stab at literary seduction; Bridgerton grossed $1.2 billion in viewership value, proving period romps with a twist sell. Yet, remakes carry baggage: Cruel Intentions‘ 2019 reboot flopped, and 2023’s Liaisons French series on Prime Video drew middling 68% on Rotten Tomatoes for “stylish but soulless.” Analysts peg success on Fennell’s touch—her Promising Young Woman Oscar win for Original Screenplay suggests she can weaponize wit without diluting dread. “It’s Succession meets Gossip Girl,” one exec likened it, eyeing Emmys in writing and production design.

For Reeves, whose filmography skews action (John Wick franchise: $1 billion+ worldwide) over awards bait—he’s never scored an Oscar nod despite The Matrix‘s four wins—the original Liaisons remains a poignant footnote. “That role taught me vulnerability’s the real power,” he reflected in a 2020 Oscars chat with Diane Keaton, co-star of Something’s Gotta Give. Post-Liaisons, Reeves dodged the prestige trap, opting for Speed‘s bus chase over Platoon‘s grit (a role he passed, per lore). His 2025 slate—Good Fortune (the Aziz Ansari comedy where he plays a bumbling angel, out October 17) and Ballerina (John Wick spinoff, June 6)—keeps him booked, but this remake spotlights his early pivot from heartthrob to icon.

Thematically, the update feels ripped from headlines: In a year of Epstein docs and influencer scandals, Liaisons‘ core—manipulation as currency—resonates. Merteuil’s revenge arcs mirror #FreeBritney reckonings; Valmont’s conquests echo Harvey Weinstein exposés. Laclos, a soldier-turned-novelist, intended his tale as a warning against libertinism; Frears amplified it with visual opulence (those Oscar-winning sets: Versailles replicas in Bath, England). Netflix’s version, per leaked outlines, amps the queer subtext—original hints at fluid desires become explicit, with Danceny’s tutor role queered amid London’s club scene.

Challenges loom: Casting diversity (aiming for a pan-global elite) risks “woke-washing” backlash, as seen with Bridgerton‘s racebent royals. Budget overruns from UK strikes could balloon costs, and with Netflix’s Q3 2025 subs dipping 2% amid ad-tier pushes, flops like The Gray Man ($200M loss) haunt execs. Still, projections are rosy: Similar to The Crown‘s 73 million households, this could hit 50 million views, boosting UK content quotas.

Comparisons to Reeves’ canon abound. Like The Matrix (1999, four Oscars including Visual Effects), Liaisons showcased his quiet charisma amid spectacle—Neo dodging bullets, Danceny strumming strings. Against John Wick‘s balletic violence, it’s a reminder of Reeves’ range: from angelic (Good Fortune) to infernal. Peers like Cruel Intentions traded wit for titillation; this aims higher, echoing Saltburn‘s class satire.

As filming nears, one X post sums the frenzy: “Keanu in ’88: Whoa, love hurts. Netflix 2025: Whoa, likes kill.” Will it seduce or scandalize? With Fennell’s bite and Reeves’ shadow looming, Dangerous Liaisons redux could redefine the remake—proving some liaisons are too dangerous to dust off. Stream the original on Netflix now; the future’s plotting its revenge.