It's Okay not to be Okay: More on Episode 12 and Tone

This post contains possible spoilers. It assumes knowledge of the drama up to Episode 12.

It fascinates me that there are theories floating around the web suggesting that despite what we were given in Episode 12, Do Hui-jae, mother of Ko Mun-yeong, was not responsible for the death of Gang-tae and Sang-tae's mother. I certainly don't dismiss them in any form because the possibility always exists that the facts that we've been given thus far isn't the complete picture of what actually occurred. It's a strategy common to K dramas in order to spring surprises and undermine expectations. But what really got my attention is that many of the theories are predicated on the idea that it's too dark and depressing for a mother of one party in a canon pairing to have killed the other's mother. According to this line of thought, it portends a bleak future for the one true pairing and stifles their ability to have their happily-ever-after while being saddled with this inter-family homicide. As I reflect on the possibilities, my initial reaction would be... so why the reference to Romeo and Juliet?  Is the drama trolling us then? Is it a misdirection regarding the mystery around Do Hui-jae's disappearance or the endgame? I dunno. I tend to think that the Romeo and Juliet reference is meant to tell us something significant about the pairing's dynamic. My view based on what we've seen so far is that Gang-tae and Mun-yeong are meant to persevere through these kinds of insurmountable obstacles to forge their own future. It never occurred to me that the show would back down from the abyss that it's created by mitigating the circumstances under which Gang-tae's mother died.

It could be that I'm a simplistic sort of viewer (and I am) but I've always understood this drama to be shrouded in darkness practically from Day 1. Not only because of Mun-yeong's own violent tendencies and nightmares, or because of references to fairy/folk tales but because of the kind of books that she writes. The thing about Mun-yeong that I've always accepted as a given is that she is a grim angry female lead that breaks the K drama stereotype. That's what makes her unerringly intriguing to my mind. Her relationship with her mother always seemed to me rather dysfunctional. It is true that Do Hui-jae is an enigmatic figure still and it could be that her husband and her daughter are unreliable eye-witnesses. She could have been a sadly misunderstood creature. However, this doesn't really help me understand Mun-yeong's nightmares and upbringing. To my straightforward way of looking at things, it feels contradictory. I don't discount the fact that although Do Hui-jae might have been a psychopath and it doesn't necessarily follow that she killed Gang-tae's mother. That's certainly a possibility. But I want to know why in Mun-yeong's mind, Mother Dearest is such a tyrannical figure. A Maleficent type that invades her nightmares.

When I consider The Boy Who Fed on Nightmares and The Zombie Kid, in all honesty, I don't want the show to go the convenient route of justifying Do Hui-jae's parenting or softening her up to be a tragic and misunderstood figure at the 11th hour. For children's books, they are deeply disturbing. Both books come from dark places and go to dark places with very little light shining into the tunnel. There are no deus ex machina for the characters in these stories. In fact all of Mun-yeong's stories to date have no happy endings.

In so far as what the show itself has been doing, it has never backed away from dealing with difficult subject matters as far as what human beings do to each other, or what they do to themselves. Take Kan Pil-wan for example. The man has debilitating PTSD. He can't function in the real world because of his painful memories of the Vietnam War. He did kill people... that's not in question at all. He can't forgive himself even though he did it under orders in a combat situation. He's stuck. Or as he says himself, he's trapped in the past. What about the mother who was quarreling with her daughter before her daughter was killed in a car accident minutes later? There is no hidden letter from the daughter for instance to alleviate mother's suffering. Nothing that would soften the blow. It was an entirely regrettable situation that cannot be reversed or mitigated. The show was unerringly realistic about the mother's guilt and the consequences of what unfinished business does to people.

The world where It's Okay inhabits is a harsh and troubling one where people have to navigate through thorns and battle enchantresses or dragons.

I submit that there's an underlying existential tract in the show. Pain and suffering is real... whether it's what we do to ourselves or what others do to us. There's no getting away from that. But they don't have to define us or our future. We can incorporate our suffering as part of our arsenal and allow it to make us stronger... to give our lives meaning when meaning is lost to us a la The Boy Who Fed on Nightmares.

To me that's the lesson that the show wants to extrapolate from Romeo and Juliet. The pain and suffering... the senseless deaths... the feuding... all of that was idiocy and ultimately meaningless. There was no need for Mercutio, or Tybalt to take sides and die for their troubles. Both were loved ones of the couple. It was an utter waste of life in the scheme of things. Yet... the couple were able to move on from that because they prioritized their love for each other to try and forge a different future for themselves. Ultimately they failed but at least (according to the drama and maybe even Shakespeare) they tried to leave the past and all its baggage behind. This is what I see to be the significance of Gang-tae's decision to show up at the photo shoot in light of the Romeo and Juliet template. Despite the ugliness of the past, he doesn't have to be trapped by it because his love for Mun-yeong is much much bigger than the implication of the murder of his mother.

(If I'm pressed to speculate further, I'm inclined to think that Do Hui-jae is no longer among the living. She was killed by someone possibly not by her husband (possibly the head nurse) and then buried somewhere behind the cursed castle.)

The Good Detective (2020) Episode 7

It is indeed a tangled web of deception in a seedy network of vested interests. I don't think that was ever much doubt from Day 1 who were involved in the cover-up of the murder of art college student, Yoo Jin-su. The guilty parties were named early and they mobilized in unseemly haste with tried and true obstructionist tactics to ensure that the truth behind the 5 year old murder would stay buried. In fact, the biggest mystery seems to be identity of the one who sent the surveillance video that gives Lee Dae-chul his alibi and is the catalyst to the reinvestigation. The timing is certainly interesting and it does beg the question... to what end? Considering what this show is about and where it's going, I have trouble believing that the sender is motivated by altruistic concerns.

Of course I don't think any of us believed for one moment that the "bad guys" would be resting on their laurels doing nothing while others were busy trying to uncover their secrets. It's a dirty business and as long as there are those willing to make a fast buck, dirt can be thrown around to discourage those who are seeking the truth.

I am sure Kang Do-chang knows exactly what consequences await him at the end of this journey. He doesn't need Yoon Sang-mi to point out the ramifications. He's thrown down the gauntlet and by stirring up this hornet's nest, he is setting himself up to be ostracized by the rest of the force because he is putting the entire organization under the spotlight for professional misconduct. In an ideal world he would be hailed a hero for standing up for his principles, for the little guy and for justice. But this is not an ideal world and key individuals within the law and justice system aren't motivated by the rule of law. There's also some ambiguity regarding Oh Ji-hyuk's pummeling of Eun-hye's pimp, Park Hong-du to get him to cough up information. Does the end justifies the means? At least in the mind of Ji-hyuk when the stakes are high and the bad guys are playing dirty he seems willing to cross the line. But then he too has nothing much to lose and he's in a race against time.

To a large extent Do-chang's biggest battle is not a legal or investigative one. As I've said previously, this is a show about people and what drives them to act in specific ways. Individuals have a rational and irrational side that come into play when backed into a corner. This is in part why even the best laid plans can come unstuck. Of course it's easy enough to manipulate someone into doing your bidding. Or talk them into it. But it's just as easy for someone else or a different set of circumstances to come along and unravel all of that. That's the unpredictable side of a conspiracy. At times it's a case of pushing all the right buttons to get the right reactions.

That was the case with the late Detective Jang Jin-su's widow who was in all likelihood dragged into the fray by Team Leader Nam. There's no pretence on her part that she's a grieving widow. All she probably cares about is dead detective's good reputation and whatever compensation came out of his demise from the line of duty. So in her case, she would do anything to protect that income stream even if it means throwing Nam Guk-hyun under the bus.

In this episode more facts about Yoo Jin-su came to light during the defence counsel's presentation of
the newly acquired evidence. The link between the deceased and Lee Dae-chul was (to my memory) established via the testimony of her college friend who wasn't included in the original investigation. It seems that Lee Dae-chul's daughter Eun-hye is actually a talented artist herself and her father was trying to get advice about how he could support her daughter's talent. It was a tragic piece of revelation considering what might have been for Eun-hye if her father had not been implicated in a crime he didn't commit. But perhaps there's still hope for her if Lee Dae-chul is found innocent and they get some kind of compensation for what they've had to suffer.

The tenuous relationship between Oh Jang-tae and the now Justice Minister Yoo Jung-Ryul via his brother Yoo Jung-seok was given more space in this episode during his confirmation hearings. It's a fascinating cat and mouse game with each side maneuvering to prove that they have the upper hand in this dynamic. Oh Jang-tae is certainly no fool and he's nobody's pawn. We are led to believe that it's an expedient relationship that goes back many years from when Dad, Oh Jong-suh was still among the living. I have no doubt that there's plenty of skeletons in that closet there's waiting to be uncovered by the willing. In fact I have my sights set on Dad and/or Oh Jang-tae for  Ji-hyuk's father's murder. Jang-tae certainly made it no secret that he hates his cousin so I'm sure there's a hint of something sinister in the background.

My own view at this point in time is that Jang-tae killed Jin-su unintentionally so finding the killer is not really the aim of this game. The primary aim is to find enough evidence to get Lee Dae-chul off the hook and for the rest of us to understand the complex relationship between all the key players in this conspiracy.

It's Okay not to be Okay (2020) Episode 12

Romeo and Juliet is often touted as this great tragic romance between star-crossed lovers... an ill-fated encounter between a couple of young people thwarted by the sins of their fathers. But to cynical o'l me, the actual story is lesson in idiocy from start to finish. Beginning with the ridiculous feud between the Capulets and the Montagues... nobody even remembers what started it... to the Prince's mismanagement of said feud to sword altercations leading in death and the secret marriage. Everybody made such terrible choices that I don't wonder if Shakespeare meant for this to be a farce or satire. Of course there is literary value in the play. Many of the lines are pure poetry... the balcony scene for instance while others have become a fixture in the English language. For eg. "A plague on both your houses"

Of course these days Romeo and Juliet has become much more of a literary prototype for other tragic love stories of couples caught in the crossfire of opposing sides. It is a well-worn narrative trek in K drama plots especially of the melodramatic variety.

On some level it's not entirely far-fetched to insist that Gang-tae and Mun-yeong's predicament has parallels with the Bard's most famous love story. Gang-tae can hardly be blamed for feeling distraught that the mother of the woman he loves is very likely his mother's Butterfly Killer. What is he to do? He's much too involved and has made too many promises now to do a back flip. Indeed one could blame him if he did. Except that there would be plenty of hurt feelings and Mun-yeong would feel abandoned once again. Plot wise it feels as if a typical push-pull strategy is in the air. But the show doesn't quite go there. And this is why I have the utmost respect for this show. It lurches into melodramatic territory but it never wallows in it. Gang-tae punches a wall over recent revelations (he must vent somehow) but one thing that's different now is that he has a mentor and a confidante in Director O. 

It is part of his gradual reclamation of his own sense of self in this new dynamic that Gang-tae has the capacity to look beyond the devilish details to want something better for the three of them. Whether he is able to hold it together of course remains to be seen. There's little doubt that Gang-tae has been plunged into his abyss. It is a terrible secret for one man to carry on his own and yet we expect that secrets have a sneaky way of coming out into the open despite all best efforts. It's not what he believed he signed up for but there's no doubting that it was. As he himself acknowledged in this episode, he is a man drawn to challenging people and situations. In all of this and other bleak moments the show continues doing stellar things with the cursed castle trio. Each is on his/her own journey of growth... to be just that little bit better than what they were yesterday. Sang-tae's drawing which has become Mun-yeong's inspiration for her next book supports that assertion that all three are going somewhere. Whatever dark truths await them... these have to be faced separately or together as is reiterated by the reappearance of The Boy Who Fed on Nightmares. Nightmares are a given in this world. Suffering and pain are par for the course so rather than avoiding them, they should be confronted head on.

I've been wondering for a while what it is that's brought Kan Pil-wan (the director's favourite "mole") to the facility as a patient. On the surface he demonstrates a high level of affability and functionality. But he is unable to navigate in the "real world" because of the horrors he was a party to in Vietnam as a combatant. (I had no idea that Koreans were involved in Vietnam) The real world with its sights and sounds can't hold new possibilities because he is trapped in very specific old memories of it like the boy who fed on nightmares who eventually becomes the witch's plaything. In similar fashion, Kan Pil-wan may exist but he can't live meaningfully. It is no accident then that revelation of his PTSD and survivor's guilt intersected with Sang-tae's new found confidence as "an adult" and "older brother". I thought it was delightful that he was bragging to Ms Kang about what he'd done. Instead of being just someone who needs to be taken care of, he is now someone who can care for others. It clearly must have felt good on some level to have arrived at this place as a newly minted adult. This opened the door for him to talk about his trauma related to his mother's murder because of his realisation that he is stronger than he thought. He has now attained the resilience of adulthood and can now face up to his greatest fear. For Mun-yeong to call Jae-su for his advice instead of badgering Gang-tae as she might have previously, is also an incremental step in her learning how to deal with others on their terms, not just hers. It was a visible sign of growth now that she's part of a functional family.

Storytelling is powerful medium of communication. Not just to instruct or to reveal truths about the human condition... as the show has repeatedly done referencing well-loved folk tales. Everyone has at least one story to tell. The telling of their stories can be cathartic... as it compels us all to reflect on life, the universe and everything in it. It can provide a door to understanding someone else's motivations. It's an ancient form of interaction that continues to provide insight but shapes the way we see ourselves in the world we live. The Bible contains numerous stories rooted in historical events. Jesus told parables to his followers to help them understand God and the supernatural world. Moreover the stories about Jesus' doings have been preserved for posterity because of the underlying belief in his uniqueness. History is stories about the past. We study history for the purpose of learning from the past and hopefully to prevent the repeat of mistakes of the past. The show wants us to see that storytelling occurs at every level of life. When someone talks about their trauma or worst nightmare... it's done in the form of a story. When Jae-su counsels Mun-yeong about Gang-tae's modus operandi, he tells a story. When Lee Sang-in talks about his monthly event to keep his dad happy, he tells a story. That's why something like The Boy Who Fed on Nightmares can be a far more effective didactic tool than counselling. And as the drama has demonstrated all throughout, storytelling is a crucial part of counselling or what we often call "therapy" today.

The Romeo and Juliet story in its original was a tragic tale not of ill-fate but of poor choices. Judging from what is being done in the drama, I don't think it's just me that thinks that either. It's not that the titular characters were entirely devoid of personal agency or were victims of larger cosmic forces. The reality is that human beings often do thing for short-term gains and so undermine their own long-term self-interest as well as that of their loved ones. Gang-tae and Mun-yeong can't do much about the past. That's something out of their control. It's done. But what they have is the future to reshape if they have the courage to face the past and learn the right lessons from it.

It wouldn't surprise me with all the foreshadowing and hints if Mun-yeong and Sang-tae are indeed birth siblings. It causes me, not for the first time, to wonder what manner of woman Do Hui-jae really was. Was she really Maleficent in the lives of all the people she touched?

It's Okay not to be Okay (2020) Episode 11

This drama undoubtedly deserves all the praise that it gets because there is much to praise but the best part of it is the layered storytelling or to use a fairytale analogy... the princess and the pea storytelling. There are all these mattresses that sit atop the pea but the pea is unmissable because the core of the show never gets lost in all the cleverness. Even while the storytelling is smart in how it weaves together various elements, it retains its heart.

Elsewhere I noted that the drama follows the traditional monomyth -- the hero's journey. Gang-tae has embraced the call to adventure. He has crossed a number of thresholds. The latest is the acknowledgment that he can find a way to live with being his brother's brother as well as to love Ko Mun-yeong warts and all. He has had his mentors in the form of Ms Kang (Ju-ri's mother) and Dr Oh the quirky head psychiatrist from the mental health facility to aid him in this acceptance of this call to a move from the familiar. His latest challenge is to lead the way... to teach both Sang-tae and Mun-yeong how all three of them can co-exist. But first, the onus was always on him to make that decision to build a new family with Mun-yeong in tow.

The show hasn't disappointed so far because it demonstrates a respect for its characters despite lapses of judgment here and there. When challenged to make hard choices, they often choose the long-term best after a time of angst and deliberation. After a few missteps, Gang-tae learns very quickly that he must find a way of navigating his long-time relationship with his older brother while trying to locate his blossoming romance with Ko Mun-yeong in the overall scheme of things. It is heartening to hear Gang-tae admit to his closest and oldest friend that he is finally being himself. No one is making him act outside the script. After many years of self-denial and being on the run from an unseen threat, he is gradually living the way he wants to. It's clear to the people around him that change has come to him. Dr Oh notes that he is finally showing his "true colours". These new developments aren't about Ko Mun-yeong as such but primarily about Gang-tae broadening his horizons and redefining his relationship with his brother. He has no intention of abandoning his brother as he explains to Mun-yeong but it doesn't mean that he doesn't want one or can't have a relationship with Mun-yeong. As I've said this elsewhere, his dilemma wasn't an either or situation. That was always a false dichotomy. The unpredictability of life often calls for changes in relationship dynamics which may bring about different levels of discomfort in the short-term while the negotiations take place.

Mun-yeong is learning the benefits of eschewing instant gratification of her darker impulses. It's bleakly hilarious on some level to see her acknowledging the advantages of not stabbing Park Ok-ran, the escaped patient, who came to her place in the middle of the night because she realises the benefits of keeping her emotions under wraps. Especially when Gang-tae visits afterwards and confesses all over again. Like a child she needs to learn patience while dealing with Sang-tae who is navigating his own learning curve that his brother isn't his property to command at will. Luckily for her and the audience, Sang-tae manages to grasp a few home truths within the time limitations of the episode. Behind this is the assurance that he isn't losing his brother but gaining another family member.

Lee Sang-in is a bit of surprise package these days. Not only is he humorously likeable for the most part, he's demonstrating that he really does care about Mun-yeong. Maybe a change is as good as a holiday. I am particularly enjoying the way the show sets him up with Ju-ri because she needs to know the possibilities and what being liked by a man looks like. The problem with unrequited love, particularly in the way it is depicted in dramas, the person who is doing all the liking often tethers their self-esteem and identity to the object of their affections. She needs to know that Gang-tae not being interested in her romantically isn't personal...  it certainly isn't about any character deficiencies deficiencies. Because what one man can't see, is another man's delight. Lee Sang-in, if he does nothing else right in this drama proves that Ju-ri is a person well-worth liking.

Over time Andersen's The Ugly Duckling story has been interpreted in a couple of different ways. It's often recounted as a story about late bloomers and even as a parable about finding one's true place in the world. Here Gang-tae reinterprets a familiar tale often associated with childhood to teach and to exemplify to Sang-tae the human need to belong in families and for the elders of families to have that inclusive spirit. He also looks to Sang-tae's favourite cartoon character as an exemplar of this family maker.

The Good Detective (2020) Ideal vs Reality

Rather than a straight up, run-of-the-mill police procedural with a typical K drama corruption narrative, The Good Detective (2020) is a morality tale largely preoccupied with the moral choices made by people on bad days. While I wouldn't go as far as to say that the policing elements are merely window-dressing, it seems to be that the police investigation provides a familiar storytelling context in which these moral decisions are interacted with. Kang Do Chang (Son Hyun-joo), presumably the titular character, is a veteran cop that becomes reluctantly thrust into a re-examination of a case involving a death row inmate. 5 years earlier, an art major and a detective were killed and the crime was pinned on Lee Dae-chul (Jo Jae-yun) but in recent days, new information has come to light suggesting that Lee Dae-chul might not actually be the perpetrator but might in fact be the victim of a large scale conspiracy involving various individuals within branches of the so-called justice system. It's a familiar tale of woe from Kdramaland about corruption in high places and the abuse of power.



The title of the show could be said to work in two ways. It could be an oblique reference to Kang Do Chang. Or his latest sidekick, Oh Ji-hyuk (Jang Seung-jo) who seems far more eager to get to the bottom of things and has the acumen to match. On the other hand, the title could refer more generically to a particular type of police officer that is more an ideal that is a reality. Whatever this ideal detective looks like is an integral part of what is being explored in this drama. There are of course assumptions that underpin this ideal and these assumptions are governed by a particular set of moral values. Society at large presumes that there are shared values which inform our ideas of what constitutes an ideal detective. But that's not quite the case. These values are hotly contested especially by those who don't have altruistic concerns. As the drama unfolds, it is clear that depending on where you stand in the corruption spectrum or ladder, notions of the ideal detective shifts accordingly.

Is the ideal cop... as is the case here... just someone who lives by his/her conscience? That is to say, to act according to what he/she knows to be the right thing? But that seems to be an insufficient requirement if corruption of due processes occur routinely. Corrupt officials could well claim that they too are acting accordance to the dictates of their consciences. The word "corrupt" suggests that there is a pristine, untainted state in policing and after a while no one knows what that even looks like if abuses in the system have gained ascendency. When we first encounter Do-chang, he comes across as a timid, brown-noser whose only concern seems to be promotion. That's only half the story. Some time ago he had decided to play the "thou shalt not rock the boat" game because for a man of his experience, he's missed out on opportunities to get ahead while watching younger men climb the ladder of success. As the show progresses, it's clear that Do-chang isn't incompetent so the road blocks turn out to be political and conspiratorial rather than meritocratic. To some degree he had grasped something of the political nature of his position but it is only now that he's digging through the Lee Dae-chul that he's getting the bigger picture of how deep the rot goes. Far more importantly he's come to the conclusion that despite the pretence and the seeming capitulation, he's actually not one to play the game according to the rules of his supervisors. He can't look the other way when the evidence raises alarm bells. So it becomes clear that Do-chang was left out of that conspiracy because the schemers knew that he would never play ball with them.

Conscience by itself evidently isn't enough. It's a perpetual juggling act. The road blocks and gatekeepers are ever present to ensure that the secrets stay buried. It certainly isn't enough to battle a large-scale conspiracy. The drama also demonstrates that there's an existential battle of wits going on. Those on the side of angels, as it were, have to circumvent many of the usual investigative avenues because of the obstacles within the organization itself. Much of the comedy comes from Do-chang and Co. attempting to scam the schemers. It certainly doesn't speak well of a justice system when cops have to create subterfuge within their own organisation in order to save a life and to get to the truth. Sadly the good guys have to play hide and seek in order to survive the backlash of trying to re-open a reprehensible frame-up job. Moreover, it is clear that Do-chang on his own could never achieve the level of success he has so far. Ji-hyuk has been an indispensable variable. As a partner, Ji-hyuk nudges Do-chang along in his journey to atonement. Ji-hyuk wisely perceives that Do-chang's crisis of conscience needs to be played out in more concrete ways. It isn't enough to "feel bad" for the victims of this injustice. Action is needed. Strategizing. And co-opting the media. The combination of Ji-hyuk's nous and Do-chang's experience has brought about some measure of progress against some powerful forces.



So perhaps too the point can be made that a good detective has to be able to work with others and/or provide necessary leadership. He, as is the case here, can't be a lone wolf. Moreover, it isn't just about Do-chang and Ji-hyuk's partnership but the team that they surround themselves with must be with them heart and mind. That's the lesson that we take from Kwon Jae-hong's arc where he's under pressure to cave in to the pressure to spy on his colleagues. Jae-hong had felt himself on the outer, not in step with the rest of the team. However, the team smartly plays up his contribution to the capture of a well-known gang leader with effusive praise and celebratory drinks. Winning his heart was essential to maintaining long-term unity and ensuring his loyalty on a bumpy road. Involving Jin Seo-kyung was also key to giving legs to getting a retrial on the road. She too understood the ramifications of what she was asked to do when cooperating with the "good cops". There are consequences for everyone who work outside the system or the confines of what their respective organizations have laid down. The irony is that though they are made to feel like renegades and even provocateurs the reality is that if they are supposedly seekers of truth and justice then really, they are only accomplishing what was always supposed to be the spirit of their jobs.





With regards to Ji-hyuk, he is driven by something intensely personal. He isn't just a dispassionate detective although it does appear that way to those who don't know him well. His is a life traumatized by crime. His father's murder has been a festering wound in his soul that he can't shake. As someone left behind in an unsolved murder and a suicide, he is driven to catch the culprit in a way other cops aren't. He must know what it is like not to have answers to the questions. No resolution means no closure. He certainly has no qualms about fingering his cousin, Oh Jong-tae for the crime or putting him in the hot seat if the shoe fits. For him, shaped by his tragic past, the truth of what happened is more important than blood ties. He is only too aware from his family baggage that people who share the same blood don't always share the same goals or moral compass.

The other brutal reality that emerges when cops don't do their jobs well is that people's lives are destroyed. Of course the larger forces that play their chess games in their ivory towers live by the maxim that omelettes can't be made without breaking eggs but down in the back streets and alleyways of the big cities are some of the results of their backroom shenanigans. Lee Eun-hye, the daughter of the death row inmate might be the biggest casualty in this as her bleak future continues to play out in unsavoury terms. She suffers from epilepsy. She has a tumultuous relationship with her pimp. There's no where she can call home. If her father is executed, she will forever live with the infamy of being the daughter of a murderer and death row candidate. So a man with a conscience like Do-chang can't look at the true victim of a true crime and walk away. After all she's the sort of person that he must have signed on to protect many years ago.







What's clear too is that justice can only occur when it's accompanied by the truth. Without truth, facts, data there can't be justice. Whoever is guilty of the original murders has to be found to save a man's life but at the end of the day it isn't just about him, it's also about society's confidence in its institutions to protect the lives of everyone without partiality.

Ancient Detective (2020) The Puppet Motif *Spoilers*

This post is an in-depth analysis of a recurring idea that plays out in the drama. Therefore it contains spoilers about the details of the plot and outcomes of the drama. It is strongly recommended that you not read this if you haven't seen the entire drama.


It occurred to me after the series finale when the identity of Wang Hua is revealed in not just one but two fascinating twists that the theme of freedom (especially individual liberty) finds intriguing expression in the exploration of the "puppet" motif. The motif works on different levels. As a literal, concrete plaything, as a metaphor for a form of indentured slavery and as a more Frankensteinian realisation -- being the creation of a person who wields immense power for good or for ill. The idea of a puppet is that of a lifeless doll that moves at the mercy of another with no will of their own. A puppet acts in accordance to how it is directed by the controller whether it be through some kind of mechanism or through the use of deception. It symbolizes the very opposite of free will, freedom, self-expression.

*Spoilers ahead*

According to the show's mythology, Wang Hua is a terror of the martial arts world (jiang hu) who was defeated 8 years earlier in Shenji Valley but his body, it seems, has gone missing. The show's protagonist, Jian Bu-zhi is concerned that he might still be alive so he sets out from the valley as a detective and a truth seeker. What's particularly suggestive is that Jian, though supposedly present 8 years earlier at the battle, has lost all his memories of the event and anything else before that fateful day. Only by reading the notes and diaries of his father, Jian Jin-huan, a legendary sleuth in the martial arts community, who died in the carnage, has he been able piece together some aspects of the puzzle.

*Ending spoilers ahead*

It turns out that Jian is not who he thinks he is but that he is in actual fact the Wang Hua that terrorized jiang hu 8 years earlier. However, the other twist that follows is that he isn't actually Wang Hua either but a puppet that was assuming the identity of Wang Hua. Wang Hua it seems, was a mind-controlled super soldier deployed by a shadowy figure who presumably used the Wang Hua persona to create chaos in that world. In effect, Wang Hua may not be a real person but a puppet of an unknown antagonist that remains a mystery at the drama's conclusion.

The irony of course is that our Jian Bu-zhi who identifies himself as the biological son and intellectual heir to Jian Jin-huan's legacy through the latter's writings actually becomes his true successor when he goes tabula rasa. Or not. Whoever his original controller or master might be, this Jian breaks free of his programming to gradually live up to the legacy and the legend. We don't know what he was like before he became a puppet but that matters little at this point. As Beggar Chief Hu says, what's really crucial is that Jian epitomizes the values of the late Jian Jin-huan who in turn personified everything that was good, true and heroic about jiang hu. According to him, the real identity of Jian Bu-zhi doesn't matter. It's what he does in present trajectory and what he symbolizes that count. He is the man that jiang hu desperately needs.

This Jian that we come to know and love somehow managed to break free of whatever influence his controller wielded and chose to take the righteous path. To promote truth seeking and universal justice. In the same way, his love interest, Zhan Shi-qi who was a nameless assassin with a number was raised to be a soulless puppet for the sect. Through a series of incidents she comes to see the meaninglessness of being a cog in a well-oiled machine. So she unshackles herself in the name of freedom. The immediate consequence of which sees her living like a fugitive. Even before she escapes the tentacles of the sect, she's obsessed with beautiful clothes and pretty things as if to suggest that though she's a puppet, she's looking to differentiate herself from the rest by dressing distinctly.

Throughout the drama her colleagues and former mentor can't see the motivation behind her exit. While they can't conceive of a life outside of the sect and being an assassin, she longs to be free to make her own choices and even find love without any kind of expectations that life will be a bed of roses from here on. It's the freedom she craves, not necessarily the benefits or any that might come along with it. That is the point of contention. She chooses freedom over security, relative safety and even a sense of belonging in order to be her own person. Once she was a puppet, now she is someone redefining herself by finding her own meaning and identity in the wider world.

The word "puppet" 傀儡 is first given focus in relation to Jian's visit to Changle Gambling House on Puppet Li's island. Jian's purpose is to find the whereabouts of Handy Tang, one of the Shenji Valley survivors from 8 years earlier. Puppet Li is so named for his renown in constructing mechanical devices and was sought after for his expertise in making sophisticated traps. When the ten that board the boat on this occasion make their way to the gambling house, this is the visitors' first view of Puppet Li as their host.

His facial expression and form is hard to make out from due to the hooded cloak and the surrounding darkness. At this first encounter, everyone presumes the voice and the figure seated on the wheel chair are genuine. It is surprising that no one seems suspicious of the dilapidated and dusty structure that they are ushered into. But perhaps all who are there are eager to enter into some kind of transaction with Puppet Li.  Most, however, are not there for the treasure hoard that he is fabled to possess. They have specific requests unrelated to wealth. However, in order to get what they want from him, they are required to play his game. The game involves puppets, and the contestants need to find the puppets' missing pieces from around the room. Unbeknownst to the visitors, Puppet Li's game is a game show of death (patterned after Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None) of which the puppets are the lure.

The 6 puppets made in the image of 6 missing jiang hu personalities are a distraction and misdirection. A part of the theatrics of a mastermind with bigger fish to fry. It is revealed later that Puppet Li, without the smoke and mirrors, has been relegated to a ventriloquist puppet -- the skeletal remains of a man who was a reputed engineering genius.

On this trip, Jian's vigilant protector and fellow traveller, Zhao Wo-huan inadvertently gets close to the assassin sect's spy Ming Yue and soon the two develop feelings for one another. On this occasion she takes the guise of a helpless mute girl while looking for a piece of crystal that contains the names of undercover agents belonging to the assassin's guild. The point of their romance is that at some level it serves as an instructive contrast to that of Jian and Zhao Shi-qi. Ming Yue is the willing puppet of her masters and remains so right to the bitter end. Despite falling for Zhao, she can't leave the guild behind because her relationship with it goes far deeper and she is still emotionally tethered to the organization. In effect, she is unable to cut the ties.

There are also other instances of body substitution in the story. In the third major case featured here, a series of murders take place at a gathering of top physicians who have come to treat a sickly wealthy businessman Mr Yin. The culprit cleverly attempts to deflect attention from himself by using a corpse he killed to frame another and to cause that man to believe that he has committed murder. A body swap and some high level martial arts are used for subterfuge. What's also interesting about that case is that the murdered men were reprehensible scoundrels using child beggars in an extended experiment to find the right drug for the wealthy Mr Yin. They were used, in our language, as laboratory rats or as insignificant vessels for a clinical trial. They could also be said to be puppets... dancing to the ugly tune of their controllers for their own ends. The idea of human rights was not accorded them because underpinning this ugly conspiracy was the idea of "might is right".

The physician Xiao Ye Ye who turns up at the gathering turns out not to be the genuine article but a character known as The Man of a Thousand Faces. The Pretender of jiang hu as it turns out. The real Xiao Ye Ye had died 8 years earlier. But this incarnation happens to be a quick study and has taken on various identities in his lifetime. He confesses that he has no personality of his own but he, like a shape shifter or an empty doll takes on the personality that most impresses him at a given time. Once again the puppet motif emerges.

On the outskirts of the Yan prefecture, the man who is named the Divine Archer has mysteriously disappeared. The simple villagers attribute this to a fox demon when his people find a pair of shoes which he purportedly left behind. Much later when Jian finally has all the necessary pieces in place does he realise that the Divine Archer's body was used to in Chief Bai Cao-ze's coffin (of the Mt Yan sect) as a substitute to give the illusion that Chief Bai has passed away. This is clearly meant to hide a much bigger agenda concerned with the Shenji Valley massacre 8 years earlier. Chief Bai's most senior student, Bai He, it is revealed, has been an undercover agent for the assassin's guild. Her identity was discovered by Jian Jin-huan years earlier but he allowed her to continue. She and the elder Jian knew that everyone would be after her blood including the assassin's guild. In her words, she was only a chess piece who's identity had been exposed. As long as she didn't act against her teacher, he would keep her identity a secret. Later she pays the ultimate price in the hands of Zhan Si for letting Jian go. When she is torn between her loyalty to the assassin's sect and her love for Jian Jin-huan, she acts of her own will knowing the consequences of her actions.

When Jian and his travelling companions arrive in Liaodong to seek information about the Shenji Valley event from the remaining survivor, they find themselves right in the middle of an internal leadership contest within the Santong Security Agency. In order to conceal his true motives to Jian, the second-in-charge usurps the leadership and installs a temporary "puppet" to assume the identity of the legitimate leader.

In a crazy twist in the body swap motif  Boss Wang undergoes major cosmetic surgery and is now looking like a young man in a different body. He wants to retire and leave behind his responsibilities but doesn't think his usurper should succeed. He seeks the help of Jian and Co to regain his position in exchange for information about what happened at Shenji Valley 8 years earlier.

There are many aspects of the show I find fascinating but this is one that struck me when I thought a little more about the open ending and considered some comments I'd seen on the web. The implications are provocative because it feels that what is implied is that the body is a mere vehicle or vessel but the identity of the person is in the soul and the will.

Ancient Detective (2020) Non-Spoiler Review

As someone who watches a lot of detective/crime dramas from everywhere, my verdict is that this one that does almost everything right. I say "almost" because there are a few niggly things in the storyline further along in the story that did frustrate me but as a whole the juggling act is quite commendable particularly when it positions itself fundamentally as a wuxia story. There have been quite a few offerings from Mainland China this year in the genre but the quality has been a mixed bag. The biggest problem, to my mind, is that most shows struggle to get the balance right. Characterization, relationship dynamics, romance, plotting, sub-plots. Some start off well enough but go off on tangents and lose their way. I sometimes wonder why directors and producers think that every drama in the crime genre has to have romance. It's clear that some shows don't lend themselves to romance or even if they did, the incorporation of it ends up being less than desirable. Fortunately this doesn't seem to be a problem here. Of the numerous C dramas that fall off the assembly line, this is actually one of the better products. I am supposing that the only reason why it's escaped wider notice is because of lesser known cast of actors that spearhead the series.

The story of Ancient Detective revolves around a young detective, Jian Buzhi who has emerged from the famed Shenji Valley to find out what really happened 8 years earlier in an almighty altercation with the terror of jiang hu (or the martial arts community), Wang Hua. He is the son and surviving successor to the mantle of jiang hu's greatest detective Jian Jinhuan who died tragically in the carnage to stop Wang Hua in his rampage. To complicate matters, the young detective has no recollection of the event. Jian Buzhi is played by the relative newcomer, Yu Jiwei who embuse the character with gentle and youthful elegance. The show loses no time in introducing the character as one that follows the Sherlock Holmes template. Not only does he produce the culprit by keen observation and deductive logic, he saves the hide of an innocent man and meets first time the man who later becomes his protector and loyal companion, Zhao Wohuan. Zhao isn't just his offsider. The bromance of the two men is one of the key elements in Jian's ability to navigate through the rough and tumble of jiang hu because Jian's Achilles' heel happens to be that he has no martial arts ability.

The romance serves the plot well. While they may be hints of a love triangle, none of that is played out fully or given full flight. The women in this show are independent, intelligent and logical human beings who never see themselves as victims of circumstances even when others might tempt them to do so. Jian's primary and only real love interest is Zhan Shiqi, a former mercenary/assassin now on the run from her former masters for absconding. The two only have eyes for each other and neither waver in the bumpy course of true love.  Jian is an impressive figure, a purist and idealist for truth and justice so it makes perfect sense that the woman he falls for can't be an ordinary one.

Zhao has his own romance thread with the mysterious Ming Yue, a member of the Assassins Guild. His brave and simple devotion attracts her even while she wrestles with her feelings for him and her duty to the guild. Despite the braggadocio at his expense, his dogged loyalty to his bosom friend and his eagerness to protect everyone he cares about is very attractive. Even a woman skilled in the art deception can't resist its allure.

Integrated into the main storyline are several arcs that serve as hurdles/stepping stones towards Jian's search for the truth about the death of Jian Jinhuan, the missing Wang Hua's body and his own amnesia. As with all such tales, he has a mysterious adversary who seems determined for him not to get to the heart of the matter. Each arc sees Jian employing his detective acumen in criminal cases while looking for a surviving member of the campaign against Wang Hua. They are styled very much in the vein old school, classic British whodunits with their own twists and turns coloured with a wuxia flavour. As if the show isn't complicated enough, Jian is poisoned not once but twice and so he's also up against the clock to solve mystery after mystery in order to reach his final destination.

Jian has many others in his ever growing travelling entourage that support his endeavours. He is a man that commands deep respect and loyalty from encounters in his journey. The likeability and reliability of his character ensures that when he needs help from his motley crew of skilled individuals, they jump to his aid.

The thing that surprised me most about the drama is that it did have fairly sophisticated things to say about the wuxia genre and the nature of heroism. That was something I hadn't expected. The fact that the protagonist is someone who has no martial arts in such a context demonstrates a push to rethink what a jiang hu hero should look like. He is given a martial arts manual as is often the case in traditional wuxia but unlike the classic trope, he gives it away to his friend preferring to rely largely on his mental prowess to deal with his opponents.

This was a drama that I marathoned relatively easily in 2 days. It has a friendly 40 minute, 24 episode format. It's one I recommend unreservedly mainly for its overall consistency, decent performances and intriguing sub-plots.

The King: Eternal Monarch (2020) Initial Impressions

When I saw the first trailers and stills for this it occurred to me that this was a something that could go very well or very badly. Something about it didn't sit right with me admittedly and despite being on Netflix I was reluctant to pick it up while it was airing.

Three episodes in and I have really mixed feelings about this one. My early conclusion is that the show doesn't really know what it wants to be. While the premise is good, there are so many elements at play and not only does it feel overcrowded and stuffed, there's no real coherence to all of these disparate aspects. The show gives lip service to the sci-fi side of things, then goes straight for the romance and love triangle like your average rom com with fish-out-of-water elements and then it's also a bad cop drama with cringey comedic relief. Moreover, there are large chunks of backstory in flashback that don't seem to fit well with present happenings. It feels like there are three or four stories doing their own things perhaps in search of a script. The direction, the pacing are all very problematic. Compared to Mystic Pop Up Bar and It's Okay Not to be Okay, where the storytelling is super tight and the juggling act has been a delight, this show lacks purpose.

Considering the production values, the set pieces and the money they obviously threw at this, it's not coming together for me. While I didn't mind the first episode, the second and third felt like filler. Very little of those two episodes make a lot of sense to me. I certainly didn't understand Lee Gon's motivations for someone who was stuck in a parallel universe. Little of it sat well with me. He acts like someone following a script more than someone who is lost in an unfamiliar setting. I for the most part was wondering what in the world is going on, not certain why I should care about most of these people in Corea or South Korea. If you're supposedly following the Alice in Wonderland trope like The Matrix does, for instance then there should be more exploration and confusion. And definitely more circumspection.

What's worse is I'm not really feeling or buying into the romance which I imagine is supposed to be fairly important. It's partly a case of too much too soon I imagine. Lee Min-ho is satisfactory as the titular character and suits the role because he has a quiet elegance that is needed here. However, Woo Do Hwan's dual role is probably the one I'm most enthused about.

I liked Kim Go-eun in Cheese in the Trap and her chemistry with Park Hae-jin there but here, I keep wondering if she isn't miscast at some level. It isn't just her chemistry with LMH either. So far I find her unconvincing as this badass female cop.

I may give this another episode or two before I decide "yay" or "nay".

Mystic Pop Up Bar (2020) Final Remarks

This is a drama I feel that really needs a bit of a plug because it seemed to have gone under the radar. It's one that I thoroughly enjoyed from start to finish and would have followed in its entire run if I hadn't been obsessing over Hospital Playlist. I'm not big on fantasy as a rule but this one didn't take itself too seriously and in so doing made itself highly accessible through its wacky humour.

Despite the budgetary constraints, the world-building of the drama was surprisingly quite consistent all throughout. In an absurdist nutty fashion. It drew on a hodgepodge of various religious traditions as well as the Journey to the West mythos as its source material. On top it does a decent job of juggling the mishmash of the modern, the ancient and the hilarious corporatization of the Afterlife. Certainly the 12-episode format helped in keeping things tight and disciplined. Now that I've seen this drama and 365: Repeat the Year, I'm now convinced that the majority of Kdramas could be greatly improved by being trimmed to 12 episodes.

The show also benefits from keeping the focus on where the focus needs to be and that's on the main trio. Sure it's a Korean drama and there's romance to feast on but ultimately the superhero teamwork of the three is what makes this show magical and heartwarming. I loved laughing along as our trio embarked on adventures and inadvertent misadventures to settle grievances for those who fell into their laps while earning brownie points for our female lead Weol-ju so that her past misdeeds can be atoned for. Each grievance case is delightfully incorporated with Weol-ju's tragic past and has some bearing on her present trajectory. Despite all the madcap antics on the surface there is a really wonderful love story lurking beneath.

I've always been fond of Choi Won-young since he came to my attention in Hello Monster. He's a fine, experienced actor who has played a whole gamut of characters. But this has to be my favourite role of his. From the start I didn't really believe that he would take on a role just to be the female lead's offsider and I was proven correct. I came to the conclusion while watching this that I like him very much as a straight character and an all-round Mr Nice Guy. I loved his skill set and that he wasn't just there to keep a lid on Weol-ju's fiery temper or be a mentor to young Gang-bae. All of the trio were really good here and their interactions whether it be humorous or poignant were always on the money.

Prior to this I was unfamiliar with the lad who plays Kang-bae, Yuk Sang-jae. But he holds his own with the veterans admirably especially in the humour department. I also enjoyed his rollercoaster romance with the kickass security guard, Yeo-rin, in an delightful exercise in role reversal. All their scenes were adorable beyond words.

Overall this was a morality tale hidden under the cloak of a fantasy-superhero team-up. Spirit beings who were cast down among the living in search of redemption find answers to the meaning of life and their purpose in the bigger scheme of things.