Run On (2020 - 21) Episodes 13 and 14

To be frank, I have mixed feelings about the two recent episodes. Episode 13 more than 14. In fact I would probably go so far as to say that 14 renders a lot of the Mi-joo induced angst unnecessary. I don't object to angst on principle. There's a time (and place) for everything even in storytelling. Lessons can be learnt from trials and tribulations but Episode 13 felt like a filler episode (at least for the primary couple)  in light of 14 and something of a head-scratcher for me personally. They patched things up rather quickly and then went straight for the bedroom. I'm a little hot and bothered because of what the show is saying about Mi-joo more specifically. I never thought the temporary separation was even necessary even if Mi-joo has deep-seated abandonment issues because Seon-gyeom has been nothing but dedicated and reassuring. Why use such a trite parental objection trope in a show like this to create this seemingly artificial obstacle that is meant to generate tension for the briefest of moments?

I should be relieved. It could have been a lot worse. We could have had a lot more of Assemblyman Dad's frustrating meddling. He's certainly successful in driving his entire family up the proverbial wall while gleefully thinking that everything is within the palm of his hand as he sets his sights firmly on the Blue House. He's a veritable nuisance but a nuisance whose agenda has been clear. He wants things, people stand in the way so he maneuvers his way as is his custom as a man in politics. In that regard he's been consistent. 

So why did Seon-gyeom and Mi-joo have to be saddled with a faux break-up only to reconcile within an episode? I have my suspicions in that regard. Perhaps it's to allow the other coupling time to catch up in terms of character development. For a show that has been clever and witty, the temporary setback seems like a concession to those who need some kind of makjang to satisfy their Kdrama checklist. Otherwise it's a detour that feels out of sync with the rest of the storyline. More importantly it suggests to me that Dad's interference wasn't that big a deal... certainly it didn't warrant giving us a morose and mopey Seon-gyeom.

I've been playing a board game called Tokaido with the kids. It's a visually pleasing work of art that sees the participants sauntering through the road from Kyoto to Edo in old Japan as tourists. The aim is to collect as many victory points along the way as possible in order to be the one who has the best time ie. to win. One can do this by donating money to the temple, shopping for souvenirs, having nice local cuisine, jumping in the hot springs, meeting people and enjoying the scenery. It's a simple game except for the fact that you can only go forwards and you can't go on to a space (unless stipulated) that someone else has already occupied. Because of that rule it can be a profoundly frustrating experience and that's where being strategic and/or easy-going can be helpful.

This is how I read Run On. It's not a convoluted story. So far it doesn't pretend to be although there are moments where the temptation to veer off in that direction is there. That said, some of the characters arguably lead complex lives. Da-na is definitely one of those. Seon-gyeom, is quite possibly another. Being offsprings from wealthy households tend to do that to someone. The more you have, the more is demanded of you apparently. Mi-joo from what I've seen especially in these last 2 episodes likes to think her life is more complex than it really is. I suspect she's deliberately written this way because there is no where else the show can really take her otherwise. Added to that she has a love of the dramatic because it's an escapist mechanism for a lonely life. Clearly there's a tug-of-war going on inside of her. She is drawn to confrontational moments (because she sees herself as the underdog as well as a champion for those who fit in that category) and yet at the first sign of trouble she retreats. Why? Because it's just plain easier to go along with the status quo than to negotiate a place at the table. I struggle a lot with Mi-joo's characterization particularly in Episode 14 because for some reason she comes across inauthentic as someone trying too hard to be the star of her own show.

The conversation between Ji-woo and her husband the assemblyman is very telling. She's determined to be her own woman and to her credit she's never pretended that she's been any kind of maternal caregiver or wife. Her priority has always been her career and its maintenance but as her husband's ambitions reach new heights, the simplicity of sticking to her lifelong goals has come under full-scale attack. She's threatened to pull out of the game (divorce) but that's not an option for a man who thinks he's in a winning position. It isn't just some kind of clash over aspirations either. Certain underlying assumptions have been present in that dynamic from the start. She was an actress who married for love and gave the man she loved a family. However, he married in large part to grow his political career over time. In the past he could have let her have her career to humour her and I don't doubt he saw advantages to marrying a celebrity. But now, her career aspirations are increasingly a problem. While it makes for some delightful farce, those are core existential issues being contested. She represents rugged individualism and he represents conventional wisdom about family roles. Whence shall the twain meet?

In recent days Mi-joo feels like such a underdeveloped character compared to say, Da-na. What's also obvious is that her romance with Seon-gyeom has very little narrative meat so much so that someone saw fit to inject an overused makjang trope to the mix to create tension. All that really happened between them was that they went backwards and then moved slightly forward. And I question now if moving backwards was really even necessary because the consummation of their relationship lost something of the anticipated impact. I would go so far as to add "jarring" to the list of impressions I experienced. 

I probably sound like a broken record using the word "unnecessary" yet again but that's how I felt about the push and pull of 12 and 13. It was unnecessary precisely because all the cards had been put on the table as far as Mi-joo and Seon-gyeom were concerned. Whereas in the case of Da-na and Yeong-hwa, the mountain that they've had to climb is far higher and the terrain much more challenging parents not withstanding. Da-na's antisocial tendencies are humorous because she elevates herself above social norms with that slightly confused look on her face. She might be a parody but she doesn't know that she is.

The characters of the drama are undoubtedly wrestling for agency in this battleground of agendas, ideals and aspirations. On the surface, there's an acknowledgement that rocking the boat isn't worth the trouble and yet due to circumstances out of their control they keep doing it. To my mind the Tokaido metaphor works really well. Everyone wants to get somewhere fairly specific but there are impediments -- mostly other people who also have objectives but they are most inconveniently in your way. This could be parents, politicians and rivals. However, there is something called timing also. What can't be achieved immediately might be achieved later on down the road with a bit of calculation and strategic utilization of the rules. Roadblocks are inevitable in everyone's journey and smart gamers, I suppose, know how to make the road blocks work for them rather than to see them as purely obstacles.

With so much left to resolve, I'm of the view that these more recent episodes dabbled in far too much noise. I imagine what we're seeing are the usual third act issues where all the threads will at best be tied up hurriedly.

Edited to add:

After some reflection, a potential fanfic made its way into my ruminations. I would rejig the end of Episodes 12, much of 13 and even 14. Instead of Assemblyman Dad bullying Mi-joo and making her cry, a more Machiavellian thing to do would be to engage an intermediary to offer her a job as an interpreter/translator interstate or overseas. Because that dilemma would be far more convincing. The temptation to walk away from would have weight. She might take the job because it's a once in a lifetime opportunity and then the break-up (or the impracticalities of long-distance romancing). After all it's practically a mantra that her job is really important to her and that she values herself. The scenario will really force the hand of an independent working woman. And it's not ridiculously makjang. More importantly it's actually consistent with the rest of the storyline and avoids a Kdrama cliche entirely.

The Uncanny Counter (2020 - 21) Life After Victory

Although I was concerned that Episode 15 came across somewhat fillery, it turned out not to be as unnecessary as I had initially thought. Not most of it at least. Continuing on the theme that this is about So Mun's development as a superhero and adult, we're meant to witness him transition into someone quite remarkable even among Counters. Long ago, when my firstborn was just a bub, I used to watch ("persevere" might be the better word) Dragonball Z on television just to while the early morning away. Mun's recent levelling up events evoke key moments from that popular anime series. When pushed to the brink, our chief protagonist(s) tap into some kind of inner reserve or hit new heights (Super Saiyan mode), taking another step further towards becoming the best of the best. As if we can't already see it for ourselves, Mo-tak declares repeatedly (like a proud uncle) that Mun is the "ace of the team". ;)

Although I pity the HK-based Counter, Jeong-gu, for an unceremonious, quick entry and equally speedy exit, his presence in Episode 15 did serve a twofold purpose. He saved Mae-ok's life -- he became the sacrificial lamb in that regard but that also demonstrated another level to Mun's extraordinariness. Rather than being a formerly comatosed host with a spirit guide, Mun is in fact a gateway between earth and Yung. 

Like the first Avengers film, I'm of the view that this series is largely about building a team of heroes from disparate backgrounds, having a variety of skill sets. The seeming underdog rookie joins an already established group of demon hunters as the latest addition. As expected he suffers growing pains initially but potentially becomes the most powerful of them all. The fact that these men and women are of diverse ages adds to a strong sense of familial bond that was displayed all throughout the series. Despite the importance attached to them,  the birch staffs were just pieces of wood. There was no power in them. The real power came from the team members combining their strength to create some kind of force field to facilitate Mun's ability to summon Ji Cheong-sin and his inner demon. In the final analysis the team work was really what mattered as the show is at pains to reiterate all throughout the last two episodes. No one person or two persons can deal with the Level 4 evil spirit on their own. The entire team had to be in it together doing their little bit. Mo-tak emphasizes this when he reminds Mun that this isn't his fight alone. Everyone of them has got a personal stake in it and not just because it's their job.

The purpose of the finale is not too different from Mystic Pop-up Bar and Chocolate from last year. Grief, loss and moving on with no regrets. Death comes to us all eventually and there's really no knowing when it could hit anyone. Most aren't as prepared as we should be because truth be told, death is a subject matter that most would prefer to postpone discussion of or avoid altogether. Except for the knotty issue that it's one of the few certainties of life. Young So Mun grew up shouldering a whole lot of guilt on his young shoulders because he blamed himself for the "accident" and by extension, the death of his mum and dad. When the truth eluded him, it added a layer of responsibility on him that most kids his age can't understand. Knowing that other persons were responsible for their murder did take a load of his mind but the need to come clean never left him. Confession... as it has often been said... is good for the soul. When the entire family finally reunites, Mun's burden is lifted.

The show also celebrates the heroism of the ordinary men and women who have no superpowers. In the normal course of life it's a thankless task but when corruption is rife particularly in the public service, the burden is all the more greater. Seeing Mun's mother in her uniform before saying her final farewells is a sober reminder that both parents died in the line of duty. They were killed by the unoriginal truck of doom because they were attempting to do their job despite the dangers attached and the opposition they were faced with. Detective Kim Jeong-yeong was another fallen hero. For seven years she had no one to rely on and yet she persisted right to the bitter end. She too paid the ultimate price for holding on to her principles. It was tragic and yet her life was meaningful because she did the right thing when it was hard to do so. 

It's true that the final showdown with the mayor and the level four demon had a cheesy flavour to it but it had at least a couple of chuckle worthy moments. The chairman is always good for a few laughs. Superficially the chairman and Ha-na didn't seem to achieve all that much despite the huffing and puffing but it seemed  that they were holding back the demon's telekinetic abilities in that vital moment. At least that was what was implied by the dialogue. The team was acting as a team in whatever capacity they were in at the time.

I don't know how readers of my blog feel about the afterlife but I am one of those people who reflect a lot about what comes after death especially in these difficult days. Although my theology doesn't mesh with that of the drama's in most ways, raising such issues is never a waste of time. Hopefully it can even spur conversations of substance about deeper things that keep us awake at night. There is something innately human about clinging on to thoughts about heaven and hell. For one it's tied in with universal justice and secondly, it gives hope that there's more to life than the pain and suffering in this world. When I watch the reunion between the living and the dead, I tear up. Why? It touches something profound that lurks in my soul and it resonates. Hell has become a taboo in some circles these days but honestly when I see the evil doers (corporeal and incorporeal) get their just desserts, I am relieved that justice is done. Even if the cogs in the law and order machinery turn over at snail's pace.

Aside from the fact that this show is brimming with palpable familial beats, the other thing that makes it satisfying is the fact that good does triumph over evil even if the costs are high... as long as there are people who are willing to stand up for the what's right. There's even room in the universe for those who come to their sense and turn from their wicked ways. Shin Hyeon-uk is one of those who is not too far gone that he can't be saved from a fate far worse than death. 

A final shoutout to the entire cast: the good, the bad and the ugly for doing such a fine job selling this engaging action adventure fantasy. Special mention must be made of the Counter family whose chemistry and interactions ensured that this would be much more than just a cheesy chopsocky screen outing. And a double portion of praise should be doled out to Jo Byung-gu who was stellar in the titular role. He humanized So Mun, made him relatable and caused us all to fall in love with the character warts and all. He was a kid when he had to be and a maturing superhero when the occasion called for it. Undoubtedly he is a talent to watch. There's no doubting that this is a lad that will go places.

 

Run On (2020 - 21) A Matter of Agency

It is a truth universally acknowledged that in every K drama populated by characters of considerable means that there has to be at least one unlikeable parent stirring the waters, strutting their stuff. Whether or not the parent/s in question believe/s that he or she is undesirable, they are a constant thorn in the side for the other players.

In a South Korea that's gradually transforming, the likes of Assemblyman Dad is being stealthily rendered irrelevant in a world where the individual and personal choices is fast becoming a la mode. Conventions that he has clung to for much of his life is gradually being called into question by his own children. He is caught between the old world of which he was a progeny and increasingly it seems that a new one that might not have a place for him. Assemblyman Ki is a fearful soul who reflexively senses that the ground from under him is shifting and he's losing control. He's ill-equipped for this brave new world in which the young don't toe the line and reject the intervention of their elders in the fine details of their lives. It's a lonely and frightening place particularly for a man who has played by the old rules his entire life. So he lashes out predictably.

It's not a pretty moment when Ki Jeong-do finally fronts up at Mi-joo's place and blurt out his threats. While she puts on a brave front, he successfully shakes her resolve which has already been weakened by the knowledge of Dad's behind the scenes activities. Behind a close door, her bravado quickly collapses. The reality is that while Mi-joo likes her dramas on the screen, she is ill-equipped to deal with them when she's dragged into a fray where she might be the tragic leading lady. Romance, in her mind, shouldn't have to be this hard. It shouldn't have to be a battleground of wills when all she wants is to hold hands, kiss and watch movies. She craves the simple life out of the spotlight except that the man she likes comes with a ton of baggage in tow. Plus the spotlight follows him everywhere. That's what is commonly meant, I think, when they say that "love is not enough". My feeling whenever that's invoked, love is seldom what's meant here but "good intentions". If that's the case, that's probably truth in that. Intentions and feelings can only take you so far but when the trials emerge (as they surely will), real actual effort is necessary. No one achieves any proper goals without hard work. The question to the individual at the centre of this tragicomedy boils down to this... is this something worth fighting for? 

Mi-joo could be naive in believing or stating that she alone should take care of things. Of course it could be deliberately provocative, high minded speech to make Seon-gyeom go away. But it's ultimately untenable especially as he's already given his promises to persist. Nobody can tackle life on their own.  It can also be the easy way out to avoid dealing with some deep-seated issues. Far be it for me to play the schoolmaster here but I do think she's being a tad unfair to him. That said, I'm not unsympathetic to her predicament -- I've been there myself on some level -- but I don't think this is something she can decide on her own. There will be other challenges ahead. The comfort zone is named as such for good reason. There is safety but there's no growth... no build up of stamina to deal with the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Fights once chosen (hopefully wisely) need to be embarked on with single-mindedness and strength of will.

That's why the training metaphor that pervades the show helpfully guides us in thinking about the storyline. Training isn't only applicable to sports but all areas of life. To maximize what life has on offer and to stand firm against the storms of life, training is vital. Personal choice has to be accompanied by taking responsibility for the consequences of that choice. Given her former attitude Assemblyman Dad should be irrelevant. Even if he's not a threat there will be some other challenge or obstacle awaiting Mi-joo. This is one fight she's not meant to handle on her own.

It's telling that Woo Sik is making huge strides in his recovery partly because he has Seon-gyeom by his side coaching and helping in his rehabilitation. And the added presence of Young-pil in his life undoubtedly helps. But he is progressing because of the training. This is in contrast to Mi-joo who is struggling alone. Her job isolates her from what goes on outside anyway and the hours she keeps ensures that her physical training can't be maintained regularly. Furthermore hearing that Assemblyman Dad is keeping tabs on her frightened her into her shell which ensured that she was ill-prepared to deal with the blowback that was coming her way.

It is commendable that she doesn't want to be the source of conflict or division in that family. But the truth of the matter is that the fissures were already there. The discontent was bubbling underneath the surface. Only in Ki Jeong-do's domineering deluded mind could the family be considered a happy one. As long as he was happy with how things were going, this presumably meant that all was well with the world. From everyone else's perspective, it was clear that something rotten was already brewing in Denmark from the start.

Da-na and Yeong-hwa's push and pull comes from a place of reluctance and uncertainty. From the outside it looks to be an unequal relationship and one that might not go anywhere. But what Yeong-hwa lacks in wealth and/or status, he makes up for in determination and playfulness. The negotiation process is humorous but it makes sense that he actively avoids being on the losing end or the at the very least the one who has to shoulder all the suffering or inconveniences of being in a relationship with her. In other words, what he really wants is a little give and take. Some show of vulnerability. If there's any "losing" to be had, they should both experience their fair share of it.

It seems to me that Yeong-hwa is good for Da-na because he is a ray of sunshine in her otherwise sterile, bleak existence of routine and family dysfunction. She's running a successful agency but he's meeting a need in her otherwise lonely life.

Run On (2020 - 21) Unmasking

There's a fascinating real life analogy that struck me this morning as I pondered over the meaning of life living under mask mandates in the time of Covid. True story. For the last couple of weeks my city has been living under some restrictions. Not a full-blown lockdown but we've had to don masks in large crowded indoor places. Masks aren't very comfortable  for long periods so you can imagine I haven't been out much. After a while it becomes hard to breathe. Anyhow, I'm not going to start a war on this blog on the efficacy of wearing them because talking about Run On with all its crazy relationship dynamics is really much more fun.

Of course it's a cliche... banal even... to say that people on this show wear masks and this show appears to be in some measure about ripping them off. And I mean "ripping" in the most forceful way possible. However, because it is a generally good-natured show it does it with gentle ruthlessness.

Da-na seems to be the obvious target of the unmasking because let's face it, she's ripe for it. Not only does she think she's royalty living in Joseon, her family dysfunction makes her conveniently unaware of her own propensity to denigrate others instinctively or as a felt "right". In 21st century South Korea does she have a point? Her privilege ie. wealth apparently gives her the right to thumb her nose at the "peasants" or common folk. While she thinks she's a barrel of laughs, the joke's really on her. She's a living fossil -- a throwback that navigating business and pleasure in contemporary society. She's in limbo and she's not much liked. It's her wealth that allows her to get away with the lack of social graces. She can try to make demands on people but it doesn't mean that they have to be happy about it.

Inevitably it comes as a big shock to her that the people around her don't all dance to her tune in cheer or at all. Yeong-hwa for instance might be relatively good natured with most people but he has his limit of how much condescension he will take. So if she wants him the man as well as the painter, well... the status quo won't cut it.

But I'm not fingering her as a villain... I don't think there are any real villains here. It's more than bad manners that's governing her behaviour. However, bad manners is often a sign of a lack of respect for others whatever the reason. She obviously rightly believes that she isn't accorded any real respect at home, feels disregarded so she lashes out at others who are in a more vulnerable position than she is. Worst still she takes special pleasure in playing mind games with those who so their best to observe normal social decorum. There are laughs to be had in subversion but when someone doesn't know how far they can go or when to stop, a lot of hurt feelings result. The relentless put downs turn abusive. Whatever genuine affection used to be present eventually dissipates.

All that said, I don't dislike her because she serves a purpose in the narrative. She's an agent provocateur that unmasks other people's pathologies in gamelike fashion. Nobody likes to be unmasked... much less publicly. On top of that she unmasks others in order to mask her own insecurities. Going on the attack preemptively as a form of defence so to speak.

Yeong-hwa pushing back was inevitable especially because he's no pushover. He's someone with pride and principles so Da-na could never walk all over him at whim. Initially they both thought that her wealth was the obstacle to a potential romance but as the show is at pains to demonstrate, her wealth is the cover story for why there's a wall between them. She chooses to use her wealth and perceived "status" that her wealth brings to maintain a cool distance sending mixed messages in the meanwhile.

Lately he's masking up not because he doesn't like her but because he wants to maintain some measure of agency. Mixing business and pleasure means treading into dangerous territory because it complicates relationship dynamics. It behooves Yeong-hwa to assert himself as an individual and negotiate the terms of their interaction not just in his favour but to move towards some kind of equality. He's doing her a favour too because if people keep allowing her to step all over them, she will never find genuine authentic relationships.

Seon-gyeom and Mi-joo on the other hand are doing much better on the honesty front 10, 11 episodes later. By the end of Episode 11, they're finally holding hands after a bout of endearing uncertain awkwardness. But the path of true love seldom runs smoothly. Certainly not in a K drama rom com. Mi-joo held back wracked with fear. Until she finally dropped her guard she was donning a mask of affected indifference rather needlessly while he was trying to prove to her that he was someone who was trustworthy in matters relating to the affairs of the heart. She pretends she doesn't want it. He knows she's pretending not to want it but continues to do whatever it takes so that she can finally comfortably stop pretending that she doesn't want it.

That's what the confession of Episode 10 is really about. That's why it doesn't behave like other more dramatic confessions that we've come to know and love. The two parties already know that they like each other. What that was about was finding equilibrium without losing a sense of self and maintaining authenticity. Rather than take a loud confrontational line, the gentle backhanded approach taken by Seon-gyeom shows respect for Mi-joo's deep-seated pathologies. It's tailor-made for her. And that's what makes it special.

 Liking someone doesn't take much. It's easy actually. But most of the huffing and puffing really comes from negotiating over and over again the terms of the dynamic. Nobody wants to be hurt too badly... that's the fight and flight impulse at play. Nonetheless the tension between the desire and the fear has to come to a head if both parties seek resolution. When you choose to be with someone, you choose to shoulder a different kind of baggage. There's where the romance really becomes fun and games.

The palpable relief on Seon-gyeom's face says it all.

The Uncanny Counter (2020 - 21) The "Orphan" Motif

 Until recently the exact nature of Ji Cheong-sin's relationship with Bae Sang-pil, the man he called "father" was unclear. I laboured under the impression that Cheong-sin might have been some kind of illegitimate son that he kept hidden while schooling him in the art of getting his hands dirty so that nasty rich people don't have to. That seemed particularly heartless but knowing now that Bae Sang-pil had adopted him for the sole purpose of training him to be a hitman doesn't make me feel any better about Bae Sang-pil. There's something very wrong even about thinking "at least he didn't use his own flesh and blood to carry out his dirty deeds" in this context especially. Ji Cheong-sin was an orphan that was adopted not because someone wanted to help a child and give him a home but because he was a potentially useful pawn in other people's sinister machinations. (Except that it has all come back to bite every single one of them with some measure of poetic justice)

Of course Ji Cheong-sin is not the only orphan in the show. The increasingly uncanny and youngest Counter, So Mun was left orphaned in a staged vehicle accident all those years ago when his parents succumbed to their injuries. The line of fate linked these two orphans from that time and the irony is that Cheong-sin became the architect of his own downfall when he allowed Mun to live. Perhaps he was sympathetic to the boy's orphaned state or perhaps (a more likely scenario) he got a kick that he was instrumental in leaving another child orphaned in this world. As a result of all the terrible things people do in this show... we have two orphans that are contrasted consistently in the big story. One becomes a tortured villain and the other a superhero in the making.  

Being an orphan isn't the worst thing to happen to anyone (as it is presumed by many in the culture) but as the show rightly points out, it is how the orphans are raised that matters. Thus there's a nature vs nurture theme woven through the storyline. So what's the difference between Ji Cheong and Mun? It's the kind of family they get adopted into that matters. It is natural for human beings to gravitate towards the idea of family whatever their background. Dysfunctional or supportive, family matters in how a child becomes an adult. Every time the two clash, the show reminds us that orphans can turn out very differently depending on how the nurturing that brings them to the position that they come to be at.

When Ji Cheong-sin returns to the orphanage, he declares that he has two surrogate fathers -- Bae Sang-pil who used his loner tendencies and turned him into a criminal as well as Lee Jung-yeong who exploited his currency as a prized commodity. Ji Cheong-sin knows what the children could become if they continue at the home so the part of him that's retained some degree of humanity wants to save them from a bleak future. Long before the demon possessed him, young Cheong-sin was already on the path to destruction because of the evil intent of humans. In better hands, it is suggested here, he might have turned out differently.

As I've said previously here and elsewhere, long before Mun became a Counter he was already a hero because even with his physical disability, he stood up to bullies and cared for his ageing grandparents good naturedly. His trajectory is deliberately antithetical to Cheong-sin's. The equally heroic Ha-na too was left orphaned after the death of her entire family although we aren't privy yet to the all the circumstances leading up to the family tragedy.

Orphans rate special mention all over the Bible in relation to their status (or non-status) as members of the vulnerable in society. They are to be protected and cared for rather than exploited because they have no one. It is just in the biblical worldview for the stronger to take care of the weak.

The orphan motif is also to my mind a metaphor for isolation and loneliness. The children at the orphanage are out in a remote area away from public scrutiny so they are especially vulnerable. It is a convenient location for all kinds of skullduggery to take place. Even when adopted Ji Cheong-sin was never part of Bae Sang-pil's family. He slept at the wrecking yard in a makeshift room although he craved a real father-son relationship with Bae Sang-pil. Since coming into the spotlight, his fugitive status has seen him living an increasingly transient existence hopping from one place to the next to evade capture. He has no home so even when he goes back to the orphanage, it cannot be home for him. He has become a danger to the children and himself. The demon which might have offered some measure of companionship has made him completely alone. Moreover Baek Hyang-hee is not much of a companion -- as there's really no honour among thieves.

While they are a family, the Counters are forced to be isolated for the rest of society and not get involved in human affairs. Which is impossible. Their secret necessarily means that they cannot tell people the most important feature about themselves because they have a higher "calling" that they are compelled to keep mum about.

Detective Kim Jeong-yeong was isolated in her workplace because of her integrity. The corruption at the very top meant that she would be considered a pariah by her colleagues for clinging on to her ideals regarding the job. Before the rookie, Kang Han-ul joined her one-woman team, she was working alone and hampered at every side. She was "orphaned" ie. ostracized from her context. On top of that, Mo-tak had no memory of their relationship and so she really had no one for a really long time in the force.

In an unfortunate case of good-intentions gone awry, one of the orphans stops Mun from summoning the demon from Cheong-sin. This gives Cheong-sin an opportunity to take his own life to disrupt things for Mun. It's not certain if that's the evil spirit or the man at work. They could be acting in concert. What's clear though is that there is no second chance for Ji Cheong-sin. Evil has so gripped him that he's reached a place of no return. He is sacrificed for the demon's longer term survival.

The Uncanny Counter (2020 - 21) Entering the Third Act and I Answer the Critics

There are a few good reasons why this show has become a runaway success for OCN. It certainly isn't because the plot says anything new or does anything new with the fantasy-superhero genre. What it does though is make use of familiar elements in an engaging way. And it certainly helps a lot that the actors are good and well-cast. It was always clear to me that this show was a superhero origins story and origins story follow a well-worn trajectory.

Why am I harping on this? There's been a fair bit of whinging and whining about Episodes 13 and 14 apparently in certain quarters of the internet. I shrug my shoulders like the jaded long-time Asian drama viewer that I am. Because first and foremost I've learnt never to have high expectations about the third act of any K drama (or C drama for that matter). Far too often K dramas suffer from the usual bout of third act self-destructiitis. It's eerily deliberate to the point that it's scary. The answer to that mystery continues to elude me. My dongsaeng seems to be of the charitable view that endings are hard to write... well. I'm sceptical because when I am awed by masterpieces like Prison Playbook, My Mister, Life on Mars and even minor successes like Mystic Pop-up Bar and 18 Again... I pose the obvious question... "Why can't they all do this all of the time?"

Perhaps I'm in a bit of a holiday fog, but I don't feel like there's anything really terrible about the last couple or even the last few episodes of Uncanny Counter. I'm not seeing the plot holes, or feeling the drag or even frustrated over the so-called repetitiousness of good vs evil encounters. Maybe I'm a creature from the dinosaur age from a different era when people used to get their escapist fixes from Tom and Jerry, Road Runner vs Wile E Coyote or any number of Loony Tunes foes. (Remember them?) These were perpetual cosmic existential battles that played out over and over and over and over... etc... again on our screens. But that was part of my childhood staple. I offer it as an explanation for the disconnect I feel when I read such comments. To me there's a difference when the bad guys elude justice in preparation for another confrontation because the bad guys aren't weaklings. 

We used to call this sort of back and forth a cat and mouse game -- probably in honour of a particular adversarial duo of feline and rodent previously mentioned. I suppose some are sick of the Mayor-Taesin mob. That's actually understandable. I am deeply sympathetic. Very much so. Each time they emerge victorious from a skirmish, I have an incredible urge to punch their smug mugs myself except now that they're either in detention or dead. (Although Noh Chang-gyu did provide some laughs so he will be missed) Which should get a resounding "yay" from all of us.

The good guy, to their credit did try at the start to do things through the proper channels and they kept coming up against brick walls because the Jungjin villains were just too ingrained in the system, too well-connected to be demolished in one fell swoop. And that doesn't include baddies of the incorporeal kind. The insatiable black smokey types. There is the expectation that villains fight back. But because they're villains with resources and connections at their disposal they don't care how they do it (ie. they fight dirty), they also bring out the bigger guns when they feel the need to. 

No doubt that SK dramas love their corruption tropes and tearing politicians apart. I get that. They're a great punching bag in countries that still enjoy some democracy. I also gather that a lot of international viewers are suffering corruption fatigue for a variety of reasons. But I think we all knew what we were getting from Episode 1 even if we didn't know how it was all coming together. To say at this stage that we were expecting a wider of variety of villains... is odd. It's not really how Koreans do drama business as a rule. Let's look no further than the third act of A Korean Odyssey as a point of comparison.

There was a lot of criticism about how quickly Mun got back his Counter privileges... well... why not? From the perspective of the Big People at Yung, stripping him of his powers was something they had to do. They had to make an example out of him. I didn't think it would last long either because they desperately needed him. And he is uncanny. However, from a storytelling perspective, stripping him of his abilities was more than just a punitive gesture. It made him realise some crucial home truths. Losing his abilities was never the end in itself. As far as the primary arc was concerned, it was about him realising the powerlessness from not being able to save the people he cared about because of his recklessness. When we saw him strung up helplessly in that abandoned warehouse, crying his eyes out pleading and sobbing piteously, that was his real punishment. He had drawn unnecessary attention to himself and in so doing had put other people in jeopardy through his actions. That is the lesson that he had to learn. For better or for worse, he is now a member of a team. He has to function now... at all times, power or no power... as a member of the Counter team. His actions had consequences, not just for himself but for his nearest and dearest.

A large chunk of the drama is about (and so it should be) So Mun's growth as a superhero. Being a superhero isn't just about power or even about having a noble agenda -- saving the souls of his parents for instance. It is also about being a particular type of person. In his case, it is about him learning that endangering his own self endangers others. Mun doesn't lack courage or the desire to do good. But those two qualities aren't enough. He needs wisdom. Every time he gains some measure of wisdom, he levels up physically as well as mentally. When he's driven to the brink (like all good superheroes) he taps into something he didn't know that was there and becomes a better version of himself each time. This draws on a core principle of fitness training. And it is a well-understood life hack as well.

I'm also enjoying what the show has been doing with the host-demon duality. Of course it is in the interest of the demon to maintain his survival even if it means killing off the host. The drama differentiates between the humanity of the host (which it has always done in Ji Cheong-sin) and the demons. Sure, their respective agendas intersect at times but not always because the demons' modus operandi is their survival.

So why hasn't the demons done more killing to power up in the past? That's a question I've heard and apparently it's a plothole. Well, I don't agree. The vast majority of people do what's easiest or what they have to when they have to. No one does more than they have to at any given time and perhaps they can't anyway. They might not have the capacity to handle "more" until they have "more". My understanding of the demons here is that they do only what they need to keep hidden. It doesn't appear to me that they're after Jungjin much less world domination. They certainly feed off the negative energy of the host but most remain concealed but will feed on a soul only out of necessity. So it makes sense to me that the Level 4 psionic demon would feel the need to power up against the Counters and Mun in particular to protect itself. It's a typical manichean struggle. The two sides are fairly evenly matched. One side powers up and then the other side feels the need to do the same. When there was no So Mun, Ji Cheong-sin and his demon felt no real threat. He was a hired hitman, his demon went along and helped himself to the leftovers. Ji Cheong-sin is also a completely different kettle of fish to Mayor Shin in terms of greed. He was never ambitious, all he wanted fatherly approval and acknowledgment. That's the point of him returning to the children's home. The human is an orphan who has human desires, the demon doesn't want to be summoned to Yung. Even in Mayor Shin's body we see the same tension. The human is a dad and a greedy politician. The demon has other notions and no earthly attachments. It's only concerned about its own survival.

I've also heard it said that So Mun has turned into a one-note (whiny) hero. "I've got to save my mum and dad" seems to be his mantra. In his defence, it is the reason why he joined the Counters in the first place. And he is 18. The scope of vision is understandably limited. However, while he harps on about his parents, he is a deeply caring person especially where children are concerned. His impulse there is to protect. Moreover, he is driven to try harder and to keep trying because of his parents. He doesn't give up because he can't accept that they're doomed permanently for annihilation and oblivion. That prospect is a key asset that empowers him to persevere and even to go beyond what we know him to be capable of. This story is also very much about him, the uncanny Counter finding himself: Finding who he is and why he belongs where he belongs.

As is consistently seen, So Mun is true to himself. He may be impulsive but his instinct is to protect even when he lashes out. It's clear he has a soft spot for the kiddies and would do anything to ensure their safety. Props to Jo Byeong-gu for making Mun relatable and likeable. His chemistry with his teammates and the little ones is pitch-perfect. Whoever cast him in the role really knew what they were doing.