Sisyphus: The Myth (2021) The end in sight

Somewhere in this hodge podge of romance, action adventure sci-fi and politics is a plot in search of a better script. Judging from all that I've seen in the past 7 episodes the potential for greatness was always there. The drama makes big claims, it wants to be weighty, it has tried to be mysterious keeping us all intrigued with a trail of breadcrumbs but there's little doubt that it is flawed project from the start. The stakes, we are constantly reminded, are high but the show using non-linear storytelling and an overabundance of flashbacks undermines its earth-shattering claims and diminishes any sense of urgency that the audience should be feeling. Instead the pacing is all over the place and the narration is weighed down by familiar tropes that often don't really enhance the way the package is delivered.

I don't think there's really anything that complex about the time travel side of things. From beginning to end it has been consistently about the problems associated with a temporal loop complicated by the possibility of temporal displacement if the past, present or future selves intersect. To my mind the confusion comes primarily because of the heavy-handed use of flashbacks. Flashbacks are used here for all kinds of reasons. Some provide glimpses of the leads' past while others give insight into the wartorn dystopian future. I'm not convinced that we needed that many scenes showing how Seo-hae and dad were living and surviving post-apocalyptic Korea. I don't see the point of us seeing her training regime after all this time. This is the sort of thing that would have been better shown at the start or not at all. But I suppose they needed some way of filling 16 episodes.

Certainly the show has to deal with some element of character. That's to be expected. But for one reason or another it feels clunky and not well integrated into the overall storyline. For me Tae-sul's character arc is better written and there's a sense of journey and growth. It's not that I think Park Shin-hye does badly as Seo-hae but her character isn't as well served here. It almost feels that her entire role in all of this is to be Tae-sul's bodyguard love interest. At least her training regime and skill set points to that. That said, I'm okay with the romance even if the leads don't have sizzling chemistry because it is quite an important feature of Tae-sul's evolution and it feeds his determination to do better than previous failed attempts at thwarting Sigma's foul plans.

Episode 14 offered some hope that Tae-sul is starting to think and act out of the box. It's obvious that some kind of sacrifice is expected especially when the story via Sigma has been sledgehammering us with a zero sum game all throughout. How many times has "is it the girl or the world" been thrown at our faces? Far too many I'd say. However, the question now is whether the show will be true to itself. I fear a cop out resolution. Of course that's just me bracing myself for the worst. Who knows the show might just surprise me a tad with some consistency.

Thoughts about the women who try too hard

The idea for this post came to me while I was ragging on about the secondary romance for You Are My Hero. The second male lead there, Shu Wenbo seemed to be incomprehensibly unwilling to make a move on the woman he likes despite the fact that she has bent over backwards to show her interest in him. It isn't as if he's averse to her either. That's the most frustrating part of the entire scenario. Two people who like each other but one party is holding back. Shu Wenbo though epitomizes a traditional kind of positive masculinity isn't exactly the sharpest tool in the box. But Xiao Xia who has done everything to show that she likes him -- not exactly backwards in coming forwards -- is rebuffed... or as the cool kids today would say "friendzoned". So it does beg the question: what is Mr Macho Man afraid of exactly? In the early episodes I didn't buy into their potential romance as I thought that Xiao Xia was a bit over-the-top with her overtures. "Leave the man alone" is what I was thinking but after the earthquake arc, I was sure he started show genuine liking and interest in her. She's a shrewd sort of girl and picked up on that fast. As soon as they were back in the Big Smoke she restarted their push-pull. For some reason even while it's abundantly clear to the entire planet that he likes her, he persistently keeps his distance.  

In more recent days Xiao Xia has made what I consider the wise decision of moving on, not only because she's done "enough" but because I don't think a woman who is normally shrewd and likeable should humiliate herself in such fashion. No man, however amazing he might be, is not worth demeaning oneself for. Moreover it's seldom a good look... it doesn't take long before persistence and courage start looking like obsession.

There's been a long history in Asian dramas of female characters primarily those designated "second female lead" trying too hard to win men who are seemingly disinterested and/or are in love with another woman. Since I started watching K dramas a decade ago, this kind of tropey female has been a permanent fixture of the landscape. More often than not she turns villainous as a result of not getting her way. Now I don't object to the fact that the unfortunate female falls in love with some guy who is indifferent to her -- that's not always within one's ability to control -- but it's truly mind boggling that she plots and schemes to such an extent that she not only debases herself but denigrates the object of her desire because he becomes something akin to a trophy to be won. She's seldom interested in his opinion about what he wants.The thinking that accompanies that sort of attitude stems from the belief that hard scheming alone can get her the man of her dreams.

In more recent episodes of You Are My Hero, a couple of sisters who are down on their luck have their eye on male lead, SWAT officer extraordinaire Xing Kelei. To their unerring dismay they discover that he is now attached to Mi Ka. Not only is their timing rather bad on that front but their schemes to separate the couple aren't particularly effective. They are also women who are trying too hard because they're looking at the male lead as a figure of financial security. Plus they take full advantage of the fact that he feels obligated to their dad who isn't around to care for them any longer. It feels cheap obviously. The erroneous assumption seems to be that if they succeed in separating the lead pair, he will somehow automatically fall in love with the older sister and voila... become their sugar daddy. It's a form of entitlement at work. The kind that starts with the line -- "But I saw him first" and it's entirely irrelevant what Xing Kelei thinks about all of this.

All of this also reminds me of one of the concubines of the Xu household from The Sword and the Brocade, Qiao Lianfang. She spends the better part of 26 episodes plotting to becoming the lady of the manor doing the most depraved sorts things certainly unbecoming of a female of her stature. Much is made of the fact that she's the daughter of a primary consort. Her entire claim to the Marquis' affection comes from her status and the fact that she's been head over heels for him for over a decade. She takes exception to the fact that the new wife is only a concubine's daughter and is the product of the late wife's machinations. Both might be understandable objections from the point of view of the people in that context but the Marquis aka Xu Lingyi himself was a party to this outcome. 

Frankly speaking I'm not one who is very sympathetic to these sorts of female fictional archetypes. They usually end up being villains of some sort in the storyline for the protagonists to have to contend with. Even in the Ming dynasty with all its polygamy/harem structure there is still some kind of moral code that the inhabitants adhered to. Much of which bears some resemblance to prevailing orthodoxy. It's not hard to distinguish between the good guys and the bad guys. Xu Lingyi doesn't care much for his personal harem. He's no fool about what goes on behind his back with regards to his wives. They are a burden rather than a pleasure. The new wife, sister of his previous consort, with all her baggage piques his interest because she doesn't try too hard except from time to time to keep her head above the water. She's more concerned with finding her mother's killer. Qiao Lianfang entire ambition is to win the heart of the marquis and keeps herself busy hatching plots to displace her biggest rival. 

Well of course not everything in life can be gained by sheer hard work or even ingenuity. Call it providence or chemistry or character, relationships aren't achievements in the normal sense of the word. So the woman who tries too hard "for love" often crosses all kinds of lines -- moral, social and relational. It's a completely self-absorbed endeavour with barely a thought for the beloved. She claims to love the man and yet all her stratagems are abhorrent to him (if he holds to strong ethical values) and causes problems to his loved ones. In the end despite her pleas, he rejects her flatly. Sometimes he might even throw in philosophically as is the case with many C dramas that "love cannot be forced". Or there's something inexplicable about why anyone falls in love.

I don't think falling in love is as inexplicable as the dramas make it out to be. While I'm not a huge fan of biological deterministic arguments, there might be something to them even from my own personal observations. Furthermore after the initial attraction, there has to be something more about the other party that holds the other's interest. I suspect it's far more complex even while possibly being esoteric. In the case of The Sword and the Brocade which is centred around a contract marriage between two people who are initially distrustful of each other, there is a really strong indication that love is much more than attraction. It is absolutely about character too.

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.

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.

18 Again (2020) Hong Dae-young Fixes Everything *Spoilers*

Hong Dae-young formerly a whitegoods repairman and all-round handyman fixes everything in his life. Well almost everything. And what a great finale -- one of the best. Not because they lived happily-ever-after but because those who needed to, grew in terms of learning how to do better in all relationships. Every single one learnt (or rediscovered) fundamental life skills to make necessary ongoing "repairs" to maintain what's good and precious to them. It's a timely reminder that relationships are made or broken by little choices and little gestures. In the busyness of life, all that can be easily forgotten. Because we are all flawed, selfish individuals, repair is par for the course. Unless one doesn't prioritize the relationship.

Dae-young learns a very important truth in the time he occupies his 18 again body and that is... he cannot be a father and a husband to the family if he remains in his teenage body. His teenage years are well and truly gone. They're a part of his life that he built with the choices he made over the years. But they're gone and all that's left for him is the present and the future. It's not just a case that absence makes the heart grow fonder but absence makes one realise what has been taken for granted when everything seems like a part of the furniture. He was a friend to his family for a short time and was able to be part of their lives in a way that he couldn't before but those interactions were fraught with limitations especially when his heart was drawn to them in ways he had not previously appreciated. In game parlance it was a "time out" that he needed -- to reflect and re-calibrate in order to map out the kind of future he wanted for himself. In fantastical fashion Hong Dae-young learnt he may have lost a potential career in basketball but he gained a family that he loved for life. His investment reaped a different set of dividends that he might not have been able to have if he had chosen a different path. I would go further and say that the choices he made is a reflection of the man he is

Regretting is a normal part of life. But the biggest lesson one learns (as one ages) is that life is often a zero sum game. No one can have everything. It's impossible. And to quote the great philosopher Westley, "Anyone who says otherwise is selling you something, Your Highness." The path that seems the hardest may seem to be the one most fraught with suffering but the advice here perhaps is that if we look just a bit harder, it probably wasn't all bad. In fact the good might have outweighed the bad. Or what's more, on hindsight much good came out of what was seen to be "bad" at one time. Clouds, silver linings ... all that stuff.

There's much in this show that reminds me of an old Christmas favourite, Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life. (I'm reminded a lot about that film lately) Like it's predecessor, this drama might seem sentimental and schmaltzy to some but for me it's a timely reminder in the current climate to take time out and appreciate the little things that we do have instead of dwelling on what we don't because it naturally follows that we're bound to miss what's right in front of us.

In Capra's classic, an angel visits a depressed George Bailey on the cusp of taking his own life and grants him his wish for a world in which he had never been born in. His regrets are similar, wishing he had led a different life and bemoaning missed opportunities. He too led a self-sacrificial life, putting others ahead of himself. But a world without George as he comes to see is not a happy one. It's doom and gloom. Without him, crime and amorality runs rife in his hometown. As the angel progressively demonstrates to him, no man who has made so many contributions in the lives of the people around him can ever be described as being "poor".

Before he regains his 37-year-old body, Dae-young meets Da-jung on the bridge in the same way that they did as frightened 18-year-olds wondering about their uncertain future with babies in tow. They made the difficult choice and stuck to their guns. They wept from time to time about what they had lost but also focused on what they had gained. The crucial thing that I observed from this is that these two were responsible individuals. All their lives they took responsibility for themselves and did a little bit extra. There's a scene where Si-a's admirer and childhood friend Ji-ho watches a video of featuring Dae-young during a school sports meet to reminisce. He has no father to join him in the father-son race so a much younger Dae-young steps in. It is at this moment Ji-ho realises that Woo-young could be his favourite ahjussi Dae-young. For us on the other hand this sequence reinforces the type of man Dae-young is -- how the people saw him and how he made a difference to his world even when he didn't know and harboured regrets about what he'd lost.

We are also told that Dae-young was the one who saved baseballer Ye Ji-hoon's niece in a multiple car accident. It isn't just about fated connections that we are given this piece of information. But what's clear from these two incidents is that Dae-young is a decent human being. He doesn't have a lot but he gives a lot of himself reflexively. One take home from this is that his choice to prioritize his children right from the start had positive flow-on effects for others. He tells Ji-hoon later that he saved Seo-yeon because she reminded him of his own daughter, Si-a.

Perhaps another important lesson that we're meant to get from all of this is that relationships matter more than ambitions or dreams. It's not that ambitions and dreams don't matter at all. However, in the scheme of things, I don't think the vast majority of people wishes they'd spent more time in the office or in the basketball court when they're lying in their deathbed. Life is so incredibly short. The time we have left with the people around us is limited. Those are the sorts of things we shouldn't regret. As I get older and as my kids get older, I have fewer regrets about being out of work for their sake. 

Da-jung's situation is relatable for all working mothers. Her persistence is commendable even if she's never certain of attaining the Holy Grail of being a tv broadcaster. But she never lets up even while raising kids and caring for her father-in-law who's estranged from his son. In the end her perseverance pays off but not without jumping through all the hoops as well as overcoming all kinds of discrimination. The fulfilment of dreams come late for some but in some cases they do get there. While she had the skills and personality, she could not have done it alone. That's shown all throughout. Without the support of others from her family to admirers to colleagues, she couldn't have gone as far as she did. Especially when things became unbearably hard.

What follows the wedding at the end is an entertaining does of realism that eschews the Disney fairy tale story. Life goes on after the fanfare in raw mundane fashion. Conflicts are par for the course. But it is in the mundane that we find God in the details. Who we are, why we're here and what life is really about.

The wedding isn't the end of the story for Dae-young and Da-jung but it is the end of his search. They both can move on confidently in an unknown future because they now know what they'd prefer spending the rest of their lives investing their time and energy on.

This is what Hong Dae-yang had to fix. Not the past. But his thinking about the past and to forge a future with no regrets.

18 Again (2020) Early Impressions

Despite watching around three times more dramas in 2020 than in any year prior, I still managed to miss out on one of the year's gems. An online, fellow Kdrama watcher sang its praises recently and it's been at the back of my mind to get to it at some point. A couple of days ago a city-wide lockdown was announced for this weekend which provided an opportunity to for a marathon watch.

18 Again is one of those sorts of storytelling excursions that Kdramaland excels in. A white goods repairman (Yoon Sang-hyun) suffering midlife crisis and marriage woes looks back on his life bogged down by regrets, lamenting on missed opportunities. He and his wife (Kim Ha-neul) put aside career aspirations as 18-year-olds when she falls pregnant with twins, no less. They both made the tough choice at that age of keeping the babies and raising them. Hong Dae-young, the male lead seems to have hit rock bottom when his wife demands a divorce and a long-awaited promotion bypasses him. On top of that he barely has a relationship with his children. 

On one occasion he meets an enigmatic elderly man during a repair job. The latter notes that Dae-young has a knack for fixing things but Dae-young remarks that he can't seem to fix his own life. The elderly man offers help but Dae-young notes that since the problems are his, he should try fixing them. One night while he's shooting hoops at a local school, a weather event occurs and Dae-young fantastically reverts back to his younger 18-year-old body. 

Body-swapping stories over the years have provided a comical platform for telling stories about framing regrets and shifting perspectives on one's life. At the end of it, the character(s) involved will have become more reflective and come to the "right" conclusions about where their priorities should be. However, as someone who brings a certain parental lens to this, the show delves into a larger range of topics that I personally find relatable. The drama evoked many emotions. It reminded me of much... not least that many things my own parents did and said only really made sense to me after I started raising my own children. Dae-young's journey to reconnect with his own children is one of the show's highlights as it points to the trans-generational issues that seem to beset every era. It's also a highly insightful exploration (so far) of why misunderstandings and estrangements occur. Much ink has been spilt over the generation gap since I was old enough to read and understand newspapers. But there are good objective reasons why in certain cultures (including the one I was raised in) age is reverenced over youth. The show to my mind makes a reasonable case for acquired wisdom through life experiences.

With the benefit of hindsight and experience, Dae-young in his younger body (Lee Do-hyun) sets to "fix" things. From his newly acquired perspective, he discovers that his son, Si-woo although a talented basketballer like his father, is reluctant to play the game and is being relentlessly bullied. He stumbles on the fact that his daughter is working at a convenience store because she has other ideas about her future that don't include higher education. School, he soon notes, is a complex space of continual negotiation of hierarchical structures and external influences with its own set of problems. It also emerges as an ongoing subplot that a bribery scheme has been at play among the basketball players for some time.

But it isn't just the case that parents don't always know what their kids get up to outside of the home. Children can't always make sense of the adults in their lives as they don't have a full picture of what goes on behind the scenes when matters are deliberately concealed from them. In trans-generational conflict the importance of being able to stand in someone else's shoes or at the very least view things from a different perspective is absolutely key to some form of resolution. 

Dae-young's wife, Da-jung on the other hand, has never lost her interest in television broadcasting, practising for the craft in spare moments and applying for jobs when possible. She edges closer to fulfilling a lifelong dream now that the children are reaching their completion of high school. When she's finally selected for her dream job, she faces all kinds of discrimination -- ageism, and for the fact that she's a working mother. who is divorced. Which apparently is a workplace taboo of sorts in her cultural context. To her credit, she perseveres and proves repeatedly that she has the confidence, natural talent and skills to be at the top of the game. The irony which is not lost on the viewer is that Da-jung perceived weaknesses turn out to be assets. For instance, when she is put on the spot to do a quick interview with a baseball player, she carries it off like a pro and gets instant praise for being quick to react as well as her surprising knowledge of baseball. As an older woman and mother, she's had to learn to adapt to situations in life and her baseball knowledge has come from years of spending time with a baseball fanatic at home in the form of her former spouse.

Da-jung too has things she doesn't know about the husband that she gradually grew weary of. His inner turmoil and the hardships that he encountered as a far-too-young father and husband. As life got harder, they both (I think) forgot what it was that they liked about each other and kept them going for the longest time. They both had to re-educate themselves to find their way back to each other.

The show handles Da-jung's relationships with different men with fascinating sensitivity. It isn't that she'd stopped loving Dae-young but she thought he'd change for the worst. So when new admirers come on to the scene, she maintains a respectful distance because in part it's too soon and in part she's got a ton of things to worry about. Her relationship with Lee Do-hyun's Dae-young is what you'd expect in such a situation. Because of his youthful looks, she's instinctively maternal to some degree (once she gets past his remarkable resemblance to her former husband) but she's also confused by reminders of Dae-young in his gestures and speech. She must also be conscious to some degree that his attentions to her are far beyond that of a unusually mature teenage boy.  

With all of these ingredients in the mix, the drama is a guaranteed feel-good watch as the show charts the highs and lows of Dae-young's old and new life. The firm and steady directing elicits credible performances from the entire cast from the very youngest to the most senior. Special mention should be made of Lee Do-hyun who shoulders enormous responsibility as the younger versions of Dae-young: firstly as a young dad fresh out of high school and then also the middle-aged man inside the body of a youngster. He is particularly memorable and humorous when he forgets that he's not supposed to be the 37-year-old Hong Dae-young.

Run On (2020 - 21) More 8 than 7

I'm beginning to regret having started this drama so early. Not that I started it that early. But early enough that when I watch the previews I think... "Dangit! Now I'll have to wait a week before I can see that scene and see/hear her response."

To be honest, I didn't think I'd like it this much. Like a lot of people I suffered minor pangs of disappointment with Start-Up and Record of Youth in recent memory. I couldn't even get past the first episode of Start-Up. My response to that was "So this is just a pissing contest? I'm outta here. I'm getting too old for this. Yawn." 

Fortunately I'm not too old for Run On apparently with its movie nostalgia and troubling parenting issues. There's a bit more to it than that. Just a tad. ;) The most important part is that the leads are immensely likeable (even if occasionally frustrating) and the show... so far... stays away from high melodrama. I say the same thing about this show as I do about The Uncanny Counter. It doesn't do anything remarkably original (not if you've been reading and watching superhero fiction for years) but what it does do with tropes and characterization, it does it extremely well. The balancing act and pacing seems to be working for the plot. And I suspect a satirical edge which is why I am finding it hugely entertaining.

This is why I thought it was odd when a post in the South China Morning Post,  that was brought to my attention insisted that the leads didn't have any chemistry. Okay, that sort of thing can be subjective I suppose. But I don't agree. At all. And there are all kinds of chemistry. Just because a pairing doesn't set the screen on fire doesn't mean it has no chemistry. "Cute" is chemistry too. 

No one in that right mind would debate the point that the show deploys well-used tropes but it does so in part parodying them as well as demonstrating affectionate regard for them. Kind of how The Princess Bride does things.

Dad the Assemblyman Ki is a prime of example of this. He's the classic buffoon and I love to laugh at his ridiculousness rather like how Mr Bennet loves laughing at Mrs Bennet. (A Pride and Prejudice reference just in case you're wondering. As I've said, I'm old.) When he tells his long-suffering missus that "She's the only one for him" and she responds with "I'm feeling nauseous now", I chuckle nostalgically. And when she asks if he's learning how to throw water at their son's love interest, I choke with laughter. Despite him being the stereotypical controlling parent from a wealthy family, he's a caricature rather than a serious threat. He's a cartoon version of the makjang chaebol parent because the show pokes gentle fun of him all throughout. I imagine he might be sincere in his monogamous attachment to his other half but her response helps us understand their dynamic. He is a faithful husband but he's not the husband she hoped she married. The best part of their marriage is that he doesn't cheat on her. (Low hanging fruit) It's feels like a contract marriage but the benefits have dwindled over the years. She on the other hand, tells her son that it was a love match that's deteriorated into a contract marriage. She plays her part in the same way he plays his. It's vaguely harmonious because they're busy with their own things but she's melancholy about the status quo.

Ki Jeong-do is the consummate actor because it's 24/7 for him. I would argue that acting is more what he's doing than his wife. For her it's a job, for him it's a lifestyle. He doesn't know how to do anything but to be the drama stereotype. What's particularly delightful is that puzzled  look on his face when the people around him don't dance to his tune or play according to his script. That bewildered then grumpy look of a self-appointed director who thinks he's the lead character when he's just a recurring act in somebody else's drama. Like that woman on set Mi-joo's new job who thinks she's a real interpreter and throws a fit to convince everyone she's a person of importance. And to add insult to injury, the other actors in this play that Jeong-do thinks he is directing have their own ideas about their characters and have no compunction to say so to his face. Even while his wife lets him have his megaphone from time to time and makes him feel like he's important, she is vaguely aware that he is talking himself into the blackhole of irrelevance. He's stuck in a rut and can't see his way out of it. The irony is reinforced when the wife quizzes him about been shooting a soap opera.

Even while he's pushy, mischievous and glib, I find Yeong-hwa attractive. (Kim Tae-oh is a revelation) If for no other reason he is someone who dares to challenge Da-na's narrative of herself. He's not oblivious to the cues and he's not backwards in being forwards about promoting himself to her because he senses that she's not indifferent. It helps that he's not intimidated. I like that he sees past the prickly facade and he's challenging her to come out of her shell. I guess for me, I suspect he will be good for her in that she can't play her mind games successfully with him. I am really looking forward to seeing his painting. I love trees of course. But what I want from this mysterious painting is how he depicts Da-na in it. Presumably she will be in it in some fashion.

It's not hard to see why Da-na is who she is. Or pretends to be. She's up against male chauvinism and trapped in a family that is barely functioning as one. 3 siblings from 3 different mothers. Well, it's not necessarily a recipe for disaster. Under the right conditions and leadership, it could work. But the chauvinistic father is responsible for this man-made disaster. At this point I don't know why he kept her from playing soccer full-time if he wasn't going to let her take over the family business. The truth, I've realised is that Da-na is actually doing her bit to play family as much as possible. She's actually a good daughter and not the rebel we were led to believe she was. It's all boils down to perspective.

Rather than cute, I'd say that Seon-gyeom is adorably eccentric. There are moments you wonder... is this guy really that clueless because he has that confused innocent aura about him but then the next moment, something insightful and occasionally acerbic pops comes out of the blue from that wide-eyed boyish facade. He's especially good at looking after people. Maybe too good. Recklessly so even. But you know he always means well. I think he is enjoying being unemployed (and it's a great excuse) because he can hang around Mi-joo at the drop of a hat. He's also blessed with a kind of versatility which allows him to be usefully unemployed: He has people skills. He has a seemingly bottomless pit of dosh to dispense at his good pleasure. He's considerate. He is conversational. He doesn't mind driving to places at short notice. For a boy from a rich family, he can do laundry.

But Mum, Ji-woo, tells us that he practically raised himself. Perhaps the best thing she ever did was leave him alone. Seon-gyeom apparently was born sensible. 

His reaction to the mouldy walls to the shabby motel room was gold. Mi-joo's remark about the toilet was also chuckle worthy.

I have heard the word "slowburn" used of their relationship. Maybe I have a different view of what "slowburn" means. I don't think there's anything slow about the progression of their relationship. Chocolate I would say had a slow burn romance. In Time With You had a slowburn romance. Most of the romances of Hospital Playlist can be described as such. But in this drama it is obvious that both leads like each other and show it. They're faux dating already although they couch the dating under the cover of "work", being helpful, "hobbies", sympathy and kindness. She gets completely wasted for his benefit. She's jogged and gone to the countryside with him. In backhanded fashion Seon-gyeom certainly doesn't deny it when Yeong-hwa asks him if they're on a date. As far Seon-gyeom is concerned, Mi-joo is his girlfriend.

Just look at Mi-joo raising the roof when he doesn't answer her text. Then he makes the mistake of trying to be logical ... "you could have called" and she loses it. Who cares about logic at a time like this? She's already done her drunken confession and he's already kissed her once, followed that with "really" and confessed to liking her already when she conveniently dozed off at that moment. When she calls, he comes running. Then when she's sickly he nurses her and tells her to rely on him. He says "What would you like me to do?" in a way that sounds suspiciously like he wants to have babies with her. They hold hands without any awkwardness or pretence to reluctance. Given permission, he grabs her hand with both of his and almost does something else with it. Seon-gyeom is a happy lad.

To be honest, this looks a lot like one of the fastest progressions of a romance I have ever seen. These two people talk to each other with honesty and clarity that would be the envy of many married couples. They like each other and it's clear to everyone looking on that they do. 

Still with all the goodies that we got in these last two episodes, my favourite moment between them has to be the ending sequence when he tells Mi-joo to call out for him when things are hard instead of her deceased mother. How good is that brainwashing? A none-too-subliminal reprogramming. It's a turning point for her... a new way of thinking and living. She doesn't have to live in fear or embarrassment that she has no one. She has someone she can rely on because he is actually there... for her.

I will pay the show the best compliment I can give a rom com... the show does a good job of building the main romance, using old tropes in a way that feels new and takes the trouble of convincing you why these 2 people should be together. You see, I like it when a drama shows me things not just tell.

Run On (2020 -21)

At long last... a K rom com I can get excited about. Hallelujah. I've caught up with all 6 episodes and haven't felt the urge to FF or drop it. In fact, I eagerly await the coming episodes. Will the leads continue their gentle push and pull or will they take the plunge and go with the flow? It's been obvious since the beginning they're not destined "just to be friends".  To be frank, I don't think the show does anything original but its merits lie in the characters being likeable and humorously depicted. Unfiltered. Better still, I'm seldom bored by the antics of all concerned even if they faintly resemble some character I've seen somewhere else. It's always nice that a show is smart enough not to take itself too seriously

Although the chemistry and set-up of both sets of major pairings work for me, the real star of this drama is the dialogue. It's almost as if the drama speaks with one voice through differently modulated microphones. Sometimes it's the purely random gems that fall out of characters mouths unfiltered. At other times it's a humorous understated but catty bickering especially between the women. On other occasions, it's the matter-of-fact frustration of Seon-gyeom who blurts things out with a straight face. Maybe he can start playing poker now that he's officially unemployed. On some level it seems to be doing something different but then on another, it's really just an old fashioned rom com remixed with 21st century verbiage. One gets the sense that everyone knows they're playing a role in this farce... in the original sense of the word... there's more than a little nudge, nudge, wink, wink in those irresistible pearls of self-expression. Especially in the form of Soo-yeong's Da-na. She's smart, she's sassy and she seems to enjoy playing the sociopath. I suppose it's a survival mechanism, a cry for attention and a demand for respect from certain quarters... close to home.

Seon-gyeom who's a non-conformist male lead, is wired in a completely different way. He seems to on the one hand have a martyr complex because of his perceived privilege but on the other hand, I do think there is something wonderfully genuine at the core of his dilemma. His manners are impeccable and he's a veritable sweetheart. He wants to change... not the world... but how his particular niche does business. Maybe it's the way Im Shi-wan plays the character with unmitigated earnestness. Rather than being a truth seeker, he's in search of authenticity. It's no accident that Oh Mi-joo mutters to herself that he is Peter Pan because in a real enough way he is the boy that hasn't grown up. His life until the bullying scandal has largely revolved around competitive running but by the time we get to Episode 6, he's out in the real world mixing it with other bodies that aren't athletes. It's a whole new ball game he must navigate to find his raison d'etre. The question that follows him as he ventures out in the great unknown is this: Is there life after the track?

To help him make sense of this brave new world, isn't his very public family or his former agency but interpreter and translator, Oh Mi-joo. Mi-joo who purports to be more worldly-wise lives with her friend May and has no family. It's clear early on that Mi-joo and Seon-gyeom are attracted to each other but for one reason or another they've held back. Mi-joo's initial excuse could be a reluctance to mix business with pleasure and Seon-gyeom wants to be get a lot closer but feels vaguely rebuffed. Their repartee might seem desultory on the surface but the words gradually come to hold deeper meaning for both as they interact in all kinds of troubling (sometimes comedic) dramatic contexts.

Part of the charm of the primary leads is their unerring directness with each other. There's an always that sense of unpredictability in how they respond to each other. The confrontation outside his hotel room where he asks her about being paid by his father to "keep an eye on him" was especially well played. It was done with surprising calmness. The show chooses its lighter tone by eschewing the histrionics. She anticipates his response and resigns herself to the fact that it marks the end of any kind of future interactions. Except that it doesn't. Except that she gave back the money and consistently takes it on the chin that she took a bribe from Despicable Dad. Why? Perhaps she doesn't want to excuse herself or make herself out to be a better person than she feels that she is. She perceives herself as the grown-up that takes responsibility for her actions.

Episode 6 sees the two embroiled in a cohabitation scheme. A familiar and well-used romance trope that seldom feels old. Seon-gyeom emerges from his hiding place in his grandfather's hotel and gets willingly conned into moving into Mi-joo and May's place after hearing a cock and bull story about a neighbourhood mugger. I want to pinch his cheeks for his cluelessness in taking things seriously but I'm sure after that jogging session with Mi-joo, he's won't be too unhappy at being white-lied to. Mi-joo is strangely aloof at first, keeping to her room and odd working hours until she is reminded that there's an attractive young man taking solace in her living room dying to spend more time with her. When Mi-joo comes to her senses, the two head off to the beautiful rural Korean countryside to recruit his former coach to take up the coaching position for a non-profit. Mi-joo makes her drunken backhanded confession and he makes his matter-of-fact response of mutual attraction but she finally succumbs to the effects of alcohol.

The plot thickens for Da-na and her art student, Lee Young-hwa. She's intrigued by his artwork and for a busy person who plays up the role of someone who is above it all, she seems unusually fascinated. He is unabashedly smitten at first sight and takes her prickliness all in his stride. She amuses him and he humours her. It's all part of the charm for him. Young-hwa is also responsible for cheekily and randomly throwing up a piece of my childhood with the ET reference when he meets Seon-gyeom for the second time. This time they're at the supermarket. It might not be that random of course because it's the drama saying that Seon-gyeom is an oddity ... a fish out of water... an alien that doesn't belong in this world that the so-called adults inhabit and make their sandbox. Seon-gyeom doesn't do politics or business as usual. 

The potential pairing between Da-na and Young-hwa feels like a modern K production of The Taming of the Shrew. When she patronizes him (in all senses of the word), he plays along and toys with her. It's  water off a duck's back, Yeong-hwa takes it one step at a time. He knows that compared to her he's a penniless student but that's no deterrence. In fact, he savours the challenge. Besides, he has something she wants. Something that her conspicuous wealth can't buy. He's also perceptive enough to see through a bit of her haughty rich girl act. 

The rich people's families here are deliberately dysfunctional. They suffer from the usual rich people's malaise. Seon-gyeom is routinely reduced to a prop for his father's political ambitions and Da-na's half siblings have more dollars than sense. Myung-min constructs her as his rival for the family coffers. Tae-woong is ridiculously possessive. Her father, on the other hand, wants her married off despite all her protestations. It seems to be a hobby of his.

Assemblyman Ki is the typical K drama Despicable Dad. Except that he is cartoony at the edges. In other words, he is a caricature. He is the stereotype to a T and he is being gently mocked not only by his long-suffering unreligious spouse but the show itself. He seems to have stepped out of a Charles Dickens novel. His religious zealotry isn't just a role he plays for his electorate, it also blinds him to the extent that he cannot be the husband or father that his family needs him to be. His wife, the actress, plays along to keep the peace but to her credit she doesn't pretend that she's Mother of the Year. At least she knows that she's on display, playing the roles that she's been designated by life to do so.

Chocolate (2019-2020) A Review

There’s no denying that Chocolate ransacks the melodrama pantry with impunity: Unforgettable first love, orphaned children, past trauma, over-the-top chaebol family power struggles, misunderstandings due to noble idiocy etc etc. It’s almost relentless. All these elements would be immediately recognizable by seasoned viewers. Familiar though it seems, the haunting storytelling and the exquisite cinematography is what lifts the material beyond the burden of expectation. The locations are glorious to behold. Moreover, the use of tropes is largely the set-up for the meat of the story: The reality of impending death and how people of different ages and backgrounds find ways of processing mortality and loss.

The leads are two wounded souls who continually find their way to each other despite various attempts to stay out of the other’s way. Theirs is a slow burn romance as they navigate all the obstacles from within and without to finally come full circle. The romance plays out poignantly within the backdrop of a regional hospice. For one reason or another the romantic leads, Cha-young, and Lee Kang end up working there. The location is gorgeous and serene. An ideal setting perhaps for anyone receiving palliative care and putting their house in order before making their exit from among the living. 

Read the rest of the review at JangHaven Forums

Maiden Holmes (2020) Early Impressions

While it gets chuckles and laughs out of me, the show doesn't live up to the hype. As far as I'm concerned, it's a rom com masquerading as a whodunit. Which is ironic considering the cross-dressing titular character. It almost seems as if someone took every single leaf out of the cross-dressing rom com playbook and raided the cupboard for every romance cliche ever devised bar the kitchen sink... and that's just in the first 5 episodes. Nothing is meant to tax the brain. The sleuthing is lightweight especially for a hard core fanatic of the genre like myself. It's highly derivative and no wonder comparisons are being made with the likes of Under the Power, Moonlight Drawn by Clouds and Dr Cutie. It breaks no new ground, plays it safe and entertains by playing up every romance trope with glee. In other words, it's pure unadulterated fluff. And I'm in it largely for the laughs as I count the cliches.

Of course there's nothing wrong with a nice bit of light escapism. Even I indulge from time to time. And this one seems to be decently executed. Thankfully the titular female character is at least decently written, lives up to the template from which she gets her street creds and has me grinning every time she recites from the rule book whenever Pei Zhao sends her heart racing.

I would never deny that the male lead is swoony eye candy and he hasn't done too badly as a newcomer. He can certainly pass off as the younger brother of Merxat. He has an elegance which befits the role and seems rather adept at romancing his lady love. Not to mention too that he smirks prettily. In just these first 10 episodes, the two of them have bickered, chained themselves together, almost drowned kissed, drunk confessed, kissed under the influence, nursed her back to health, discovered her secret during an undercover op, fallen asleep together, saved her from a third-rate lecher etc etc. We know the drill. However, he's not really called to do a great deal of heavy lifting here.

Also good for laughs is the other male lead, Xie Beiming whose half-hearted braggadocio and "asides" add to the good-natured cheesiness. That said, he's not completely brawn or comic relief.

The actors do their best with the material and for the most part they succeed. I imagine I'm not part of the demographic that they're aiming for so I'm happy to keep my expectations low and just go along for the ride. At least I don't feel routinely insulted like I do with other ones I've seen this year.