Drama Review: A Gentleman’s Dignity (2012)

Grade: Incomplete/dropped

(I watched to episode 7 and then skipped to the last half of episode 20 for background noise while finishing this post)

Category: Romantic bromance

What it’s about

After approximately 30 years of acting like teenagers, a quartet of middle-aged male best friends finally manage to grow up. (Or so I hear.)

First impression

As promised (threatened?), the first episode of this rom-com mostly involves adults acting like annoying teenagers. The female lead has potential, but come on—sure, you had a minor wardrobe malfunction, but let’s be honest here. That slip was a good two inches longer than any shorts you might wear (as you are, after all, a character in a Kdrama), so is it really such a big deal that you flashed it at some strangers? Word on the street is that this show improves with every passing episode, so I’m still hopeful that I’ll end up loving it.

Final verdict

Not the show for me. As I sometimes do, I decided to start fast-forwarding through the boring parts at about episode 7. When I realized I’d skipped through the first 45 minutes of the episode without finding a single scene I actually wanted to watch, it became clear that it was time to call it quits. The characters weren’t interesting enough to carry the decentralized plot, and the plot wasn’t compelling enough to make up for unlikable characters. Although this is not a show without its charms—the bromance is cute, and I really liked the soundtrack—life is just too short to watch twenty hours of people I don’t like doing things I don’t care about.

Random thoughts

• Episode 2.

Dear characters of Gentleman’s Dignity:

I hate you and your petty concerns.

Sincerely, 

Amanda

• Episode 3. There are a surprising number of Kdrama filming techniques that have never really made it to America—including one that was used in this episode. The leads were having a conversation while standing on a beach and looking out over the ocean. In front of them was the water, and logic would dictate that behind them was an inland view of a road or parking lot. But rather than waste the pretty scenery, every shot of the couple showed the ocean in the background, even if it should have shown the inland parking lot. The director must have pointed his camera at the ocean and filmed the dialogue twice, once with the couple facing the camera, and once with them facing away from it. The two versions were then edited together, so when the actors were seen from behind, the ocean was in front of them. And when the actors were shown from the front, the ocean was behind them. This happened a few times in last year’s Padam Padam, too, including the amazing fireworks scene. In a way, it’s totally contrary to any attempt at naturalistic cinematography ... but in another way, it really does make the most of the backdrop.

—Like me, the male lead names his cars. I have a weird feeling, though, that he’s also the type to name other things. “Hong Gil Dong” much?

• Episode 4. This show is starting to win me over, but the appeal of the male lead is still an utter mystery. I know he’s supposedly the Korean George Clooney, but his deathly pallor, razor-sharp cheekbones, and shadowed eyes make him look like an extra from a particularly bleak Tim Burton movie. And even though he says he has a crush on the female lead, he acts like a total dick whenever they’re together—it feels more like he’s set out to torture her than romance her. When normal grownups think they like someone, they chat; when this guy thinks he likes someone, his first order of business is to completely alienate her. I sure hope AGD has something up its sleeve to explain this behavior—I’m no good at love, but even I can see that this isn’t a winning strategy.

—WTF's up with the male lead's pen recording device? <old person joke>Who does he think he is, Richard Nixon?</old person joke>

•Episode 5. Jang Dong Gun, I would have thought that someone of your age and experience would know that there's more to acting than exaggerated blinking. Guess not, though.

•Episode 7. Did you know that some forms of Islam make ending a marriage as simple as saying “I divorce the” three times? Let’s see if it works with Kdrama: I divorce the, I divorce the, I divorce the. Guess what, Gentleman’s Dignity? It did work, which means it’s the end of the road for us. I can’t take one more episode of your unlikable characters, dull plot, and woman-hating tone. Thanks for the bromance, at least.

Watch it

Dramafever

My Soju 

You might also like

The Woman Who Still Wants to Marry, for the close friendships 

Protect the Boss, for the cute, realistically competative bromance 

Drama Review: I Need Romance 2012 (2012)

Grade: B

Category: Modern romantic comedy

What it’s about

The trials and tribulations of Yool Mae and Suk Hyun, long-time best friends and sometime lovers, and their group of thirty-something friends. In spite of the shared name and tone, this drama is only tangentially related to the original I Need Romance (2011).

First impression

What a breath of fresh air—a youthful and contemporary rom-com featuring romantic relationships approximating the ones we have in the real world. As of episode 2, I’m still struggling to get past my intense love for the original and enjoy the new one on its own merits—the sequel seems a little more plastic and less realistic, and the characters and actors aren’t as appealing as they were the first time around. Maybe a little more deviation from the original would have been good here; it would have made it harder to compare the two seasons and find the second one lacking. Also, I sorely, sorely miss Kim Jung Hoon, who’s so likeable that he automatically makes me root for his character, no matter how much of a tool he’s being.

Final verdict

My favorite drama of the year to date (Sorry, Shut Up! Flower Boy Band: You’ve been bumped to second place). 

Compared with the first “season,” I Need Romance 2012 is a darker, less comedic exploration of the things that keep us apart and bring us together. While the three C’s of the 2012 edition—cast, characters, and chemistry—aren’t quite on par with the wonderful original, all is forgiven in light of INR 2012’s better-plotted script and tendency toward dialog that’s equal parts painfully funny and painfully truthful. 

This time around, the show comes off as less of a cartoon caricature of Sex in the City. There’s some naughty talk and at its heart is still a strong female friendship, but INR 2012 lets the thoughtful earnestness inherent in Kdrama take the driver’s seat, rather than going out of its way to shock. Sure, its leads fit into the sacred female archetypes of aspirational modern romances—the Carrie, the Samantha, and the Charlotte (as recently pointed out in this discussion of the original drama)—but their roles aren’t so set in stone. The innocent girl can barely keep track of the number of men she’s kissed, after all, and the Samantha never once has a sex scene in the course of the show’s 16 episodes.

And even if it’s more traditional than the original (there are a lot more pat happy endings and a lot fewer hot make-out sessions), INR 2012 still manages to flout Kdrama conventions. It’s all here—Sex for the sake of sex! Friends with benefits! Cohabiting singles with nary a responsible adult in sight! Characters who are upwardly mobile, independent-minded, and free to live their own lives and make their own decisions! Scandalously, the female lead also steps outside the norm to be a successful career woman who isn’t defined by her job—she loves it and is good at it, but prioritizes it as part of her life, not her whole reason for being.

As part of their iconoclastic approach to the drama canon, each of the I Need Romances re-imagines a standard-issue cliché: the first turns a chaebol/poor girl love story on its ear, and the second finds a new way to explore the terminal disease plotline so beloved of Kdramas. While I whole-heartedly approved of the original’s controversial ending, I was less enthusiastic about the way the sequel came to a close—although the time jump helped, the final decision felt like a pity pick. I wish the show had either gone for the love triangle’s other angle, or found a more convincing way to take the heroine where it wanted her to go. 

It’s the little details that sold me on this series, though, like the silent conversations the characters carry on using only facial expressions. (They’re helpfully translated in voiceover for the viewers.) When you’re close to someone it really does feel just like this, as if you could say all you need to say in a glance without the trouble of words. The freeze-frame still photos inserted into the action in this season are another example of an unusual technique that’s totally successful. Instead being jarring interruptions like they were in the original, they now feel like another storytelling tool—a way to make the characters’ internal lives external within the flow of the narrative.

In spite of being a bit less homey and appealingly naturalistic than the original, I Need Romance 2012 is still a charming, smoothly plotted exploration of love and friendship. 

Random thoughts

• Did I mention that I’m obsessed with the theme song, Lasse Lindh’s “I Could Give You Love”?

• The dramas in this series have really managed to make the technique of voiceover their own. One of the few gripes I had about Dal Ja’s Spring was how hokey and dated the earnest voiceovers felt, but somehow INR manages to make them seem fresh. It’s partially that the voiceover tends to be inserted over edgy-looking freeze-frame stills instead of run over exterior shots, and partially that the delivery is crisp, not moony. 

• Episode 1. Good gravy—I just understood an entire conversation in Korean! (So what if it consisted entirely of the words “Okay” and “Go”?)

• Episode 2. Oh, Korea. Can’t you save the date rape for episode 3, at least? And of course nobody is discussing it as such—the slogan “Obvious befuddlement and/or resistance means no” apparently never caught on in Asia.

• Episode 3. What the hell just happened with the person in the bear suit? And can it please happen in every episode for the rest of the drama? (And maybe all dramas, ever?) It’s like the Tragic Clown in The Sims, only in reverse. Traumatic scene? Hold on, Hugs the Bear will appear and comfort your favorite character! Random, and randomly wonderful.

• Episode 4. So it seems that the real common thread between these two dramas is actually a female lead who sabotages her own relationship. In the first season, she lets paranoia and suspicion take over her entire being when she suspects that her boyfriend cheated, blaming him long before he did anything to deserve it. In the second season, male characters keep asking what the girls want, but the female leads are to afraid to actually make their feelings clear. If I’ve learned anything in my time on this planet, it’s that the fastest way not to get what you want is not to ask for it.

Episode 7. Dear show: I think it’s love. Will you marry me? Sincerely, Amanda

—So, Mr. Second Lead. You work at Coffee “King,” do you? You’re no Choi Han Gyul, but I’ll give you points for trying.

—I bet this episode would have been a lot more amusing if I understood any of the references to Korean movies. Couldn’t the screenwriter just have made some jokes about Secret Garden, instead?

• Episode 8. Item 7 million on the list of things this show does just right? Dialogue. Not the cheesy Kdrama lovey kind, but the crisp and funny and smart kind. (Not that there’s anything wrong with cheese, or that INR 2012 doesn’t also bring its fair share of it to the table. It just has more to offer.) My favorite line from any Korean drama ever was is in this episode. The male lead said, mid-argument, “Your mind is there to hide things you don’t want to say out loud.” If only I were a little better at remembering that myself.

• Episode 14. I want a Korean Monopoly board! (Even if it’s called Blue Marble.) Also, what’s up with golden retrievers in Kdrama? Must they always come in luxuriantly furred pairs? Is this the same set that appeared in My Princess?

• Episode 15. Epic timing fail! I just finished episode 15…but episode 16 isn’t subbed anywhere yet. How can you leave me hanging like this, cruel world?!?

• Episode 16. I found it 97% subbed at Viki. (I’m so glad that half of that missing translation is in the final monologue. Really.) Why do I feel like the heart has been ripped from my chest, torn into itty-bitty pieces, and stomped on for 45 minutes? Oh right. Because it has.

Watch it

Dramafever

Viki

You might also like

I Need Romance

The Woman Who Still Wants to Marry

My Sweet Seoul

Drama Short: Iljimae (2008) Review

Grade: C+ 

Category: Action sageuk

What it’s about 
An exploration of the complex web of cruelties and family ties that lead to the making of a Robin-Hood-style vigilante who stands up against the nobility on behalf of Joseon’s everyday people. 

First impression
After a bunch of rom-com wheel spinning, I’m ready for a nice, juicy sageuk. This one seems to fit the bill in unexpected ways—there’s arterial blood spurting in practically every scene. The production values may not be par with something like the spectacular Princess’ Man, but it’s still a soapy historical treat. 

 Final verdict
If only the whole thing was as thrilling as the final four episodes, this would have been an excellent drama. As it is, though, the bulk of Iljimae lacks the gonzo charm of Tamra, the Island and the cinematic grandeur of Princess’ Man. It’s doomed to the middle ground: not quite funny enough to be a comedy, not quite moving enough to be a drama. The mysterious murder of the male lead’s father provides a healthy dose of narrative tension toward the show’s beginning and end, but unfortunately much of the drama consists of flabby, comedic midsection that feels both unnecessary and tonally disjointed. Add to that a plot so dense with serious, laughable holes that I have to suspect the script was actually written by chimpanzees with typewriters, and Iljimae has some serious failures to overcome.

It turns out, though, that its well-cast group of likeable characters is almost enough to do the trick. Particular standouts are the show’s loveable-lunk adoptive fathers and its second male lead, the source of some much-needed gravitas. Iljimae is also a drama that knows to make the most of what it has to work with—lavishly choreographed fight scenes, tragically conflicted loyalties, and mustache-twirling bad guys (literally, in a few scenes). Overall, a diverting if not entirely satisfying way to spend twenty hours. 

Random thoughts
• This show doesn’t so much beggar belief as bugger it—the coincides and implausibilities are stacked ten deep. 

 • Have I mentioned that I'm a sucker for sageuks in which smutty books are a major plot point? Such fun, and an incredibly different vantage point on the past than we Westerners ever take. 

 • Sweet Jesus, is this ever a Korean boy buffet. Not to put too fine a point on things, but I’d like to be the filling in a Lee Joon Ki/Park Shi Hoo sandwich of brotherly love.


• Episode 3. Huh. This is like Lemony Snicket’s Series of Unfortunate Events, Korean style. How many more awful things could possibly befall my beautiful Lee Joon Ki? (I guess they’re going to spend the next 18 episodes answering that question, aren’t they?) 

 • Episode 8. I definitely have a case of second lead syndrome here. The goofy lead is too clownish for the thoughtful, smart girl he’s going to wind up paired with, while her forbidden, not-quite-romance with her not-quite-brother is sweet and lovely. I almost died of swoon when he lit all those lanterns for her. 

• Episode 13. Is that a leopard-print bow cozy I spy? I had no idea those Joseon warrior types were so fashion-forward! 

—When I was in high school, we gym-class slackers always chose to do archery because that was the only sport that sucking at automatically got you embraced by the hot gym teacher. Clearly, the writers of Iljimae had similar experiences—they wasted no time in getting Park Shi Hoo to give the female lead some bow-and-arrow lessons. Rawr. 

 • Episode 16. This show suffers from one of the most serious afflictions of dramas these days: NEPSHS (Not Enough Park Shi Hoo Syndrome). Well-meaning but doomed to cause disaster after disaster for the people he cares about, his weighty silence steals every single scene he’s in. 

• Episode 18. Dude. Are there airholes in that iron mask? I really don’t want this to turn into a snuff drama... 
Watch it
Dramafever 
Good Drama  


You might also like  Tamra, the Island (for the funny) 
Princess’ Man (for the epic melodrama, and/or Park Shi Hoo)

Drama Short: I Do, I Do Review

Grade: C

Category

Workplace romantic comedy

What it’s about

A high-powered shoe designer discovers she’s pregnant after a one-night-stand with a younger man, who just happens to be a professional knock-off artist specializing in luxury brand shoes.

First impression

This middling rom-com is part Baby-faced Beauty and part Me Too, Flower. Talk about unholy combinations—why didn’t they just go ahead and throw some Secret Garden in there to ensure that I’d really hate it? I’m even immune to its eye candy: the male lead isn’t my type, and I loathe high heels. (In fact, I quite happily buy most of my shoes at a store called Farm Way.)

Final verdict

Although as mediocre as they come, I Do, I Do is not completely without charm: it has its moments of sweetness and humor, and the cast is reasonably likeable. Having said that, though, this drama is also flawed in a way weirdly similar to its classmate Big. Rather than building shows around the elements that made their plots unique and compelling—body swapping in one, and a single, career-first woman who suddenly finds herself pregnant in the other—these shows chose to spotlight what made them average. For Big, the stumbling block was writers who overestimated the appeal of its central romance and decided to chuck all of the other story elements in favor of it. In the case of I Do, I Do, the true heart of the series was obscured until the very end by time wasted on repetitive office politics. Both shows also managed to be structurally unsatisfying in pretty much every way possible—their overarching plots failed to sustain momentum, and on an episode-by-episode basis they didn’t even bother trying to achieve any sort of narrative tension. Big and I Do, I Do also closed with events that, from a storytelling perspective, should probably have happened by about episode 8. (But you’ve got to hand it to I Do, I Do—at least it didn’t have the second male lead playing the baby in the final scene.)

If only this show had embraced its true premise rather than watering it down with standard Kdrama workplace shenanigans, it might have been the moving story of an independent woman rising to the challenges of unexpected motherhood. As it is, I Do, I Do is an empty exercise in form over function that has neither a heart nor a soul. 

On the bright side, if you’ve recently been concussed and are in the mood for an easy-to-watch drama that asks nothing of you (but also gives nothing in return), you could probably do worse than watching I Do, I Do. Like watching Big.

Random thoughts

• I’ll give this show one thing: it’s an interesting 180 on traditional Kdrama gender roles. Instead of a prickly male lead who needs to be convinced to love someone, Park Tae Kang is a goofy, big-hearted underdog who desperately wants to succeed—a hardworking drama girl who just happens to be a boy. And Kim Sun Ah, wonderfully, is totally cast as the irascible Jun-Pyo type, only without an F4 to back her up.

• Episode 1. I’m all for no-nonsense career girls, but you know what would have been really awesome? If Kim Sun Ah’s character had owned her sexuality and gotten out of that bed totally naked—and totally unembarrassed. Instead, welcome to the standard “But I’m so shy!” moment of post-coital Kdrama anti-bliss.

• Episode 7. So at this point it has become clear that the creators of this show missed a key Kdrama commandment: Thou shalt not combine a dull, go-nowhere plot and a lead couple with zero chemistry. I Do, I Do is the worst of both worlds: all the boring office politics of a workplace drama with none of the episodic rewards of seeing our hero learn and grow, and all of the wangst [wank + angst = wangst] of a romance, with none of the cute lovey parts. Why am I watching again?

Watch it

Dramafever 

My Soju

You also might like

Baby-faced Beauty

Me Too, Flower

Drama Short: Big (2012) Review

Average Grade: D

Episodes 1–6: A

Episodes 7–16: F

Category

Supernatural romantic comedy

What it’s about

After a car accident, a student finds himself trapped in the body of his teacher’s fiancé.

First impression

For once, my feelings about a drama are completely uncomplicated: I love, love, love, love Big. It makes me happy from the ends of my hair to the tips of my toes. It’s light and funny but not without emotional heft (something the past few Hong sisters projects have been missing, frankly). Gong Yoo is a slouchy, scowly vision as a high school boy with a bad attitude and a heart of gold. I can’t wait to see how the plot develops. 

Final verdict

Gong Yoo is great in it, at least. Decently executed but with an unforgivably awful, unfocussed script: Once it became clear that the writers had no idea where they were going with the show’s central body-swap mystery, I all but lost the will to watch. Someone with more motivation than me should write a fan fiction version of the final 8 episodes to right the many, many wrongs. 

My in-depth coverage

• Big Love: episodes 1 through 4 

• Little Thoughts on Big’s fifth and sixth episodes

• Big Homestretch, Here We Come

• A Big Post-mortem  

Random thoughts

• If hospitals in Korea were really so cavalier about blood being all over the place, the nation’s entire populace would have AIDS. Do they only use plastic gloves for handling spicy foods in Asia?

•Episode 1. In America, we usually remove our frozen pizza from the plastic wrapper before cooking it. Not so in Korea, per episode 1.

•Episode 5. I don't know if I love you or hate you, episode 5, but you sure had style. It’s like the reset button was pressed, and now we have to start all over. I just hope the show doesn’t morph into the typical love triangle now that the characters are on more equal footing.

—Did I mention that I love dramas that reward close attention? Episode 5 shows a flashback to Da Ran stapling their photo on Yoon Jae’s bulletin board, clearly using the same stapler Yoon Jae used to hem her skirt in the previous episode.

—Gong Yoo, would you mind laying off all the heavy breathing? It’s making me entertain inappropriate thoughts about you (again).

• Episode 6. Um. Did I just hear “Call Me, Maybe”? Not that there’s anything wrong with that—it’s a fun bubblegum delight just right for Big’s lighter moments. I just hadn’t realized that the song's quest for worldwide domination had been quite so successful.

• Episode 7.  After all the nice things I said about you, how could you be so cruel, Dramafever? Your subs for Big episode 7 are incredibly bad and downright misleading: When Ma Ri goes to the shaman, your translation says she needs the “seed” of a young boy, while the Dramabeans recap says that a young boy needs to receive the body-swapping spell’s negative energy. As the Hong sisters don’t strike me as the types to make semen jokes, I suspect Dramabeans is the trustworthy source.

—Let’s all just pretend that 8.4 seconds of “Mmmbop” didn’t just turn me into a quivering mass of teen-aged girl, okay? The instant I realized what was playing, the room felt flooded with sunlight, even though it was pitch black outside. No matter how far we may grow apart, I'll always love you, Hanson.

• Episode 8.  You almost lost me with this week’s episodes, which were a little average-kdrama-y for my taste. I still love the characters and think the plot has loads of potential, though. Here’s hoping that the next 8 episodes live up to this episode’s thrilling finale.

—I call red herring on the wedding—if it really happened without some twisty plot element, would they really not show a single minute of it!?!? [Ed note: Clearly, this is an example of me giving the writers too much credit. Sigh.]

• Episode 9.  Sorry Dramafever, I can’t bear waiting for you to post episode 10 tonight. I'm jumping ship to KimchiDrama, where the subs may be subpar, but sure are fast.

—What’s up with Kdramas having soundtracks consisting of only 3 or 4 songs? This show isn’t as bad as Boys over Flowers, but that “Hey you” song is headed toward “Almost Paradise” level over-exposure.

• Episode 10.  Ah, the inevitable Hong sisters crafting moment. Love the pandas, love the panda panties, love that Da Ran and Kyung Joon have begun inexplicably dressing alike, a true indicator of Kdrama love.

 • Episode 11. Where is it written that all new Kdrama brides must redo their marital bedrooms in the image of their vaginas? I haven’t seen so much pink since How It’s Made went to the Pepto-Bismol factory.

—Ask and ye shall receive! This weekend I posted a demand that all future Kdramas feature sageuk scenes, and what appears in Monday’s episode of Big? Not one but two Joseon interludes. Do they know how diabolical it was not to give us a peek at Gong Yoo in a hanbok, though?

• Episode 14. I’m sad to report that this show has pretty much lost me—even Gong Yoo can’t make up for all the opportunities for greatness missed while this drama is uselessly spinning its wheels. Are we really left with yet another “Who is it, really?” finale? I’m disappointed that you don’t have more to offer, Hong Sisters.

—Interesting that your unpublished book has a bar code and ISBN on the back cover. (And by interesting I mean impossible.)

Watch it at

Dramafever

Viki

My Soju

You might also like

Who Are You?

I Love Tae Ri

Drama Short: Spring Waltz (2006) Review

Grade: A+

Category

Melodrama

What it’s about

Tweens fall in love, are tragically separated, and rediscover each other as adults.

First impression

Luscious and lovely, yet virtually indistinguishable from all the other Endless Love dramas—lousy acting and sloppy editing are punctuated by moments of intense, heartrending beauty. As always, I cannot tear my eyes away. Will the installment be satisfying (ala Winter Sonata) or stultifying (ala Summer Scent)?

Final verdict

To quote this drama’s omnipresent theme song: Love, real love. Read my full review here.

Random thoughts

• Proof that I’ve really and truly drank the Kool-aid this time around? I’m downloading this drama’s soundtrack—“My Darling Clementine” sample and all—as I type.

• There’s a character on the show 30 Rock who’s so handsome he doesn’t know how to do a single thing for himself—people have been lining up to take care of him for his whole life, thanks to his good looks. I imagine that Daniel Henney, this show’s second lead, really is that guy. He’s been a complete failure as an actor in everything I’ve seen him in, yet one smile from him is all it takes to make me so woozy and overheated I barely notice his flaws. He clearly can’t act his way out of a paper bag, but he’s so dazzlingly beautiful that his dramas should come with protective eye gear, like those boxes people make to watch eclipses. If you looked directly at him too long, I swear you’d be blinded.

• This final installment in the Endless Love series includes at least two welcome innovations: male leads who are every bit as breathtaking as the scenery, and the music of Coldplay. Talk about made for each other…

• I know any number of people who are always prepared for any possible need—they carry pens and swiss army knives and measuring tape wherever they go. I think Philip tops them all, though: next to the spare tire in the back of his SUV, he seems to carry an emergency fairy princess gown. Because I guess if you look like that you never know when you might be called upon to prepare a Cinderella for a ball?

• The clothes in this drama started off bright and pretty, but ended up refugee-from-Oz insane. I understand that Daniel Henney has Irish blood, but must you really dress him as a leprechaun ?

• Episode 2. Every drama that has a swan wrangler on the payroll, as this one clearly did, should receive an automatic A. Throw in a few fairy tale castles, and that's an automatic A+.

• Episode 18. Female lead: “Watching Philip exercise can also relieve my stress.” Amanda, fanning self: “And you’ll almost certainly need a cold shower afterward, too.”

You might also like:

The other Endless Love dramas 

Padam Padam

Will It Snow at Christmas? 

The Snow Queen 

Watch it streaming at:

Dramafever

Hulu

Netflix

MySoju

Drama Short: Hwang Jin Yi (2006) Review

Grade: B-


What it’s about
A historical drama inspired by the life and loves of a real-life Joseon-era courtesan. No matter how many men want her, Hwang Jin Yi’s only true love is her art: A musician, dancer, and poet, she willingly gives up everything to cultivate her skills. 


First impression 
Queen In-hyun’s Man left me hungry for a traditional sageuk, so I decided to give this a shot. It’s a much more down-and-dirty take on the role of the gisaeng than I’ve seen elsewhere, which makes it super interesting. And even if I could live without Ha Ji Won as an actress, Jang Geun Suk has never been cuter than he is playing her conflicted and slightly spineless lover.


Random thought
• You would think that music would be music everywhere, but it’s clear that there’s little or no overlapping in the DNA of traditional Korean music and any form of Western music. It’s amazing not only how different these two genres are, but also how completely the latter has taken over in Korea: Even historical dramas are set to easy-listening soundtracks that wouldn’t feel out of place on my small-town American radio station. And while there are some good things about globalization, it’s sad that it seems to inevitably amount to homogenization.

Final verdict
Fine, but not especially engaging. (Will I ever love a Ha Ji Won drama? Your guess is as good as mine.) Nonetheless, this show does have all the sageuk trappings you’re looking for: gorgeous scenery, beautiful costumes, and strong characters. Throw in several tragic romances and an uncompromising female lead, and Hwang Jin Yi drama turns into an easy, interesting watch. Not as compelling as the similarly themed Painter of the Wind, but worth your time if you’re into historical dramas.

Drama Short: Pasta (2010) Review

Grade: A

What it’s about

The politics and personalities in the kitchen of an upscale Italian restaurant in Seoul, with special emphasis on the forbidden love between the hardworking kitchen assistant and her prickly new chef.

First impression

Light and breezy. Dare I say...love at first bite? More please!

Final verdict

If you’ll pardon the doubtlessly overused metaphor, this well-executed dish definitely deserves a passing grade—it’s made with a near-perfect recipe and uses only the finest of ingredients. 

More of a lighthearted workplace drama than a traditional romantic comedy, Pasta may not have much of a central plot, but its underdog-makes-good storyline and episodic structure manage to stay fresh and interesting to the very end. (The middle does get a bit doldrumy, especially when the narrative starts to focus on the devious machinations of the show’s least likable character.) With its grown-up vibe and well-considered characterizations, Pasta is a laid-back, feel-good delight to watch. Its greatest charm, though, is the sweetly goofy relationship between its romantic leads: Coffee Prince’s sex-voiced Lee Sun Gyun and Greatest Love’s Gong Hyo Jin, she of the world’s most earnestly beleaguered expression.

Pasta also accomplished a rare feat: When I finish watching a Kdrama, I’m generally ready to move on to the next one, but this show’s final episode actually made me sad to say goodbye. 

Stray thoughts

• Pasta’s female lead is like the anti-Ha Ji Won: always engaging, always charming, and always someone I’d like to see more of.

• There may not be a lot of heat in this OTP, but boy are they ever cute together. They even seem like they’re having fun, a shockingly rare commodity in Kdrama romances, where love tends to be a supremely serious matter. 

• For such a food-porny show, most of the dishes served at La Sfera are a bit nouvelle cuisine for my tastes. (On the other hand, I would have gladly cleaned up all the extra servings lying around the set.) It’s amazing that everyone managed to stay so thin throughout this show, when practically every scene requires them to consume carbohydrates.

• Episode 2. 

Dear Goldfish: 

Consider moving to America! Here, you could sue this creep for gender discrimination.

Sincerely,

Amanda

• Episode 8. You know what else would be bad for business, Chef? If somebody died in the walk-in freezer, thereby necessitating legal intervention and probably shutting the place down altogether for the foreseeable future. 

• Episode 17. Screaming doesn’t seem to be the most effective of teaching methods, does it? Maybe you should try something new, Chef. Say...telling the person why you’re rejecting their dish instead of making them redo it again and again without feedback. But then again, your student should probably be looking for a day job anyway—she grew up in a restaurant family, went to culinary school, and worked for three years as a kitchen assistant and still can’t grill a scallop? (Frankly, this makes me feel better for being totally inept in the kitchen. Of course I suck, if someone with those credentials can barely manage to feed herself.)

Drama Short: Kimchi Family (2012) Review

Grade: C+

What it’s about
A family drama set in a traditional Korean restaurant. Food porn ahoy!

First impression

As of episode 5, I really like this show—it’s sweet, sentimental, and just this side of magical realism. Now if only it didn’t make me desperate to eat kimchi…

Final verdict

Overall, this show is nicely done. I don’t think it lived up to the promise of the first few episodes, though—in place of a genuine, nuanced exploration of family relationships, it gives us lots of meaningful smiles shared over vats of kimchi ingredients and approximately zero narrative friction. The drama feels disingenuous and standard issue, especially when the show started off hinting that its female lead had fought so intensely with her father she vowed never to set foot in her childhood home again. (Read full review here.) 

Drama Short: What Happened in Bali (2004) Review

Grade: C+


What it’s about
Downtrodden and impoverished Lee Soo-jung sells her soul (and a few other things of value) to a spoiled chaebol while dealing with her feelings for his sad-eyed rival, a poor man whose hard work and iffy morals bring him professional success.

Initial impression
A slow beginning nearly had me saying annyonghi kyeshipshiyo to this Korean hit, but the plot picked up significantly by episode 10.

Final verdict

A dark, easy-to-watch drama that explores humanity’s less noble impulses: jealousy, greed, obsession, and violence. What Happened in Bali boils down to twenty very long episodes filled with terrible people doing terrible things to each other, with no possibility of redemption in sight. While Que Sera Sera made misery seem sexy, this show just makes it seem … miserable. In short, the Wuthering Heights of Korean drama (only less good). Worth watching if you’re a fan of pitch-black melodramas that focus on overblown tragedies, but maybe not otherwise. (Be prepared for a nasty O. Henry twist ending, if you do watch.)

Stray thoughts
• Everywhere I go, there’s Ha Ji Won. Which is a pity, because I think she’s totally uninteresting: the only time I’ve ever enjoyed watching her on screen was King 2 Hearts.

• Hot leads, but 2004 was clearly a bad year for male hairstyles.

• Episode 9: Man, that was the most soul-besmirching wish-fulfillment shopping spree ever.

Drama Short: Que Sera Sera (2007) Review

Grade: A 

What it’s about

Four people—two poor and two rich—couple and uncouple in the most hurtful ways you can imagine.

First impression

Is that a faint whiff of Cruel Intentions I detect at your pulse points, you strange, saucy little drama?

Final verdict

How is it that this dark gem of a show isn’t on more top 10 lists? I love it, at least partially because it’s so refreshing to watch a drama that doesn’t rely on an evil character to drive the plot. Instead, this show relies on the ultimate evil: human nature, and all its jealous, greedy, unholy desires. A rare bird, indeed.  

Stray thoughts

Episode 9: Dear Han Eun Soo: The correct answer in this scenario is “If you loved me, you would never, ever have done what you just did.” Cordially, Amanda

Added to top 10.

Drama Short: Rooftop Prince (2012) Review

Grade: C+

What it’s about
A stuffy, self-important Joseon-era prince and his entourage time travel to modern-day Korea and try to solve the mystery of his beloved princess’ murder. While living with a modern-day girl, they become embroiled in the corporate intrigues of the family company belonging to the prince’s contemporary reincarnation.

First impression
Fun sageuk mystery meets...standard-issue chaebol/poor girl romance. Sigh. Are there really no other plots available, dear Kdrama overlords, especially given the spiffy time-travel raw materials you had to work with?

Final verdict

Saddled with a weirdly unsatisfying ending, this lighthearted romantic comedy is occasionally cute but overall tiresomely average. 

Random thoughts
• The jury’s still out: Park Yoochun, total babe or E.T. lookalike?

• Do Koreans actually hang giant pictures of themselves above their beds? That’s bizarre—although I guess I have no right to judge. I, like all good little Catholic girls, grew up with a sculpture of a crucified guy in a loincloth hanging above my bed.

• At first I thought I was going to hate the Joseon Larry, Moe, and Curly who make up three-quarters of this F4 grouping, but now I totally love them and their goofy clapping.

• Okay. I’ve never been very good at geography, but riddle me this: he fell off a boat off the coast of New York City, and somehow ended up in the landlocked city of Chicago, 900 miles to the west. Did he float up the Eerie Canal? Was the St. Lawrence Seaway involved somehow? UPDATE: In a later episode it’s mentioned that they were sailing on a lake, not the ocean. Which presumably means they drove 13 hours or so upstate to sail on Lake Michigan, rather than just heading to the ocean. Sounds like a great idea.

Drama Short: Dal Ja’s Spring (2007) Review

Grade: A

First impression

Whimsical and winning. Remind me again why I've put off watching this charmer for so long? Oh. That's right...12 Mountain Dew commercials per episode at Daily Motion. Dear DramaFever: Please carry more older shows!

Final verdict

I originally sought out this show because Dramabeans ranked it above Coffee Prince in their 2007 year-end recap. I thought: Better than Coffee Prince? Surely you jest? Ultimately, Dal Ja’s Spring doesn’t quite live up to that billing for me (what could, after all?), but it’s nonetheless my favorite straight-up Kdrama romantic comedy. Wonderful in all its particulars, this is the humane, effervescent story of not only the female lead, but also the people whose lives intertwine with hers. Never throughout the drama’s 22 episodes does the plot fail to please, and it treats every delightfully quirky character with respect, from no-nonesense bosses to romantic rivals to crazy mother-in-laws. At the heart of Dal Ja’s Spring are a smart-but-flawed female lead that it’s impossible not to love, a hero who’s just the right mix of strong and silent and cuddly, and a number of lighthearted contrasting side narratives. Sweet, funny, and indomitably whimsical, Dal Ja’s Spring is part romance, part workplace comedy, part family drama, and part grown-up coming-of-age story. With a distinctively fabulous signature look and some of the most infectious theme music ever, this light-as-air confection manages to satisfy on almost every level.

Stray thoughts 

• Dal Ja has done the unthinkable: It has made me care as much about the office politics as I care about the romance. Who knew such a thing was possible?

• I love that this show features so much illustration (see above). I’m not sure how I feel about the sullen (but admittedly elegant) corpse girls hanging at Dal Ja's office, but it’s a lovely touch that each episode ends with a tease: the following episode’s opening illustration, which sums up its theme.

• Out of all the dramas I’ve seen, Dal Ja’s glamorous ragamuffin wardrobe is probably my favorite. I’d wear any of it....if it could be magically enlarged to approximately three times its current size. (Engorio!)

• I hereby declare that all future Kdramas are required to include at least one sageuk interlude, like the delightfully silly ones seen throughout Dal Ja.

• In America, we have an entire relationship phase that never appears in Kdramas: Making out. They always go from first kiss right to full sex, which seems unfortunate—especially for innocents like Dal Ja, who (charmingly) needs to be coached on her first kiss at 33.

• Episode 2: That scream you just heard? Why yes, it was me recognizing waffle Sun Ki from Coffee Prince as the shop boy. Along with Choi Han Gyul’s grandmother, that makes two Coffee Prince actors in the space of two episodes. Clearly, this is the show for me.

• Episode 9: Way to make the most of a gratuitous shower scene—put it at the very end of an episode so you can replay it at the start of the next one. Well played, Dal Ja!