Christmas Wish List, Drama-Style

Dear Drama Overlords,

I have been a very good girl this year: I stood by your side through good and bad (or, in this case, Big), never letting a day pass by without telling someone about your glorious works (whether they wanted to hear it or not). I have kept my Drama Fever membership active, spent countless hours relishing your online community, and even bought a drama on DVD.

If it’s not too much to ask, I would like to submit my Christmas wish list to you instead of that guy at the North Pole. (I learned the hard way last year that his subbing work is always subpar—everything seems to translate into “Ho, ho, ho.”)

Here, then, are the gifts I’d like from you this year.

• Pay your employees. Sure, it’s important for businesses to make money, but it’s also important for them to do so in an ethical, honest way. No matter how creative your bookkeeping is, there’s no denying the fact that the writers, actors, and production staff who make dramas happen work hard for you and deserve not only the financial compensation promised to them, but also your respect.

• Be sure that Flower Boy Next Door is amazing. Ideally, I would like to describe it as follows: “Almost painfully charming, FBND is funny and goofy-sweet but not without serious insights and complex characterizations. The chemistry is hot enough for roasting marshmallows, and for once the female lead in romantic comedy isn’t a total idiot: Go Dok Mi may be awkward and shy, but she’s also capable and clever.”

• Let the second lead get the girl. Not always, or even often, but sometimes. It’s only natural that we viewers gravitate toward second leads: they’re supportive and kind and treat their female leads like queens. I think part of the problem here is that the chemistry between actors can be unpredictable—who knew, for example, that in I Miss You Yoon Eun Hye would steam up the screen with a boy almost ten years her junior? But she did, and you should have adjusted the show’s script to take advantage of it, instead of sticking with the same old long-lost-childhood-love plotline you clearly charted before production even began. You’re writing these shows as they air, so why not take advantage of it to work with the organic growth of the project?

• Bring A Wife’s Credentials to English-speaking audiences. This show finished airing in April, but it’s still not available subbed anywhere online—even your official site has never gotten past episode 10. I get the sense that your lighter, more youthful output is more successful on the Internet, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t international viewers who would be interested in watching a sophisticated exploration of real-world adult relationships. Instead? We get Dream High 2, subbed hours after airing. Thanks for nothing, Overlords.

• Be original. 2012 will go down in history as the year of the time-traveling Kdrama: Padam Padam, Operation Proposal, Rooftop Prince, Queen In-hyun’s Man, Dr. Jin, and Faith all used this supernatural trope to varying degrees of success. As far as I’m concerned, one of your greatest strengths is the ability to take something old and threadbare and make it seem new. But must you spend so much time honing this skill? Think outside the box—there’s a whole world out there waiting for you to write about it, a world where romances can happen without piggyback rides and chaebol princes sometimes fall in love with chaebol princesses, not hardworking everygirls. Don’t let yourself get in too much of a rut, on either the micro or macro levels.

• Bring on the Rory Gilmores and Temperance Brennans. When you showcase a smart girl, she’s usually a bad guy (e.g., Playful Kiss) or spends all her time apologizing for being smart (e.g., Lie to Me). I’ve heard about your grueling educational environment—brains are clearly something you value. So how about letting a female lead have some for a change?

• Find Gong Yoo a decent role in a good drama. I certainly can’t fault your taste in leading men; your shows are to handsome guys what Fort Knox is to gold. But you don’t always act in the best interest of the actors or even the dramas they’re starring in. Case in point? The hot mess that was Big, which had more Gong Yoo than you can shake a stick at, but utterly wasted him in a morass of spineless drivel. Make it up to us this year by giving Gong Yoo a showcase to remember—something that lets him be funny and lovable but also brings out depths of character that have been hidden since his days in Coffee Prince. (While you’re at it, maybe you should try casting Hyun Bin, fresh from the military and the stain on television history that was Secret Garden, as something other than Pee Wee Herman’s long-lost Korean brother.)

• Be real. Fairy-tale dramas are fun to watch, whether they’re swoonily romantic or tearily melodramatic, but without some degree of realism they lose their emotional impact. Shows with a real-life vibe were in sadly short supply this year, a situation I hope you don’t plan to repeat. Remember that naturalistic doesn’t necessarily mean boring—dramas like Shut Up: Flower Boy Band and Answer Me, 1997 managed to be sensational and realistic all at once.

Thanks for a great year of television, Overlords. It has been a funny, sad, sweet, silly, romantic (and bromantic) good time. Here’s for an even better year to come.

Fighting!

With much love,

Amanda