Your Loss, World.

This.

I recently watched Coffee Prince with a Kdrama virgin. While she enjoyed the show enough to pack all seventeen hours into one week of viewing, it was clear from the beginning that she would never become a helpless Korean drama addict like me.

Which of course got me to thinking about all the many things that she—and the rest of the non-drama-watching world—will never understand.

A not terribly long list of short latter-day lists

When I first started this blog I was exploding with Kdrama commentary, but everyone in my life greeted the concept of Korean television with a raised eyebrow and a deep sigh. So of course I took to the Internet, the world’s greatest bastion of geekish obsession.

Many of my early posts here were in the form of lists, because everything about Kdrama was sensory overload—so new and astonishingly different that I could barely synthesize my thoughts into actual articles. It recently occurred to me that it has been a long time since I put together one of those lists—which of course inspired this today’s post.

Song Joon Ki, all groomed up with nobody to marry. Take care of that problem for him, will you?

Three difficult but rewarding ways to get more hits for your Kdrama blog

1. Move to Korea. (750 hits. Who doesn’t love a fish-out-of-water blog post?)

2. Once you’re there, be cast as the token Westerner in a drama party scene. (2,000 hits. Behind-the-scenes gossip always draws crowds.)

3. After meeting Song Joon Ki while filming said party scene, marry him. (10,000 hits. Wedding pics!)

Three shockingly unshocking Kdrama plot twists

1. Amnesia. If real life is anything like dramaland, Koreans should be required by law to wear helmets at all times.

2. Birth secrets. While most Kdrama leads can barely manage a kiss, their parents tend to be randy libertines who leave trails of illegitimate children in their wake. (This usually includes the person the lead is trying to kiss, so maybe it’s just as well.)

3. The return of the first love. As soon as a lost love is mentioned, it’s only a matter of time until he or she shows up on screen.

Fifteen Reasons to Watch Kdrama

Fifteen years is a long time, but on the Internet it’s practically forever. In 1998, there was no Facebook. Google was being beta tested. Wikipedia wouldn’t be around for three years, and streaming cute cat videos on YouTube would be impossible for seven more years.

But Internet users back in the dark ages of the late 90s did have one of the things we enjoy today: Soompi. Founded fifteen years ago this week, Soompi even predates the word Hallyu, which wouldn’t be coined for another year.

Since Soompi’s 1998 inception, Kpop and Kdrama have become worldwide cultural forces enjoyed by people from every imaginable background—including me, an American who has never been anywhere near Asia but is still deeply obsessed with Korean drama.

It’s hard to imagine life without Soompi and sites like it. So in honor of Soompi’s fifteenth birthday, I give you fifteen essential reasons to watch Korean drama.

Everything I Need to Know, I Learned from Korean Drama

Rocking it Hermione style since 2011

Ramen will make your face puffy. (But it’s worth it.)

Noble idiocy is the fourth leading cause of death in Korea, after cancer, dangerous intersections, and constipation.

In spite of a global population skewed toward females, every relationship begins as a love triangle between two men and one woman.

If there’s a pool, someone will almost drown in it.

If there’s a glass of water, it will be thrown in someone’s face.

No matter where you go or what you do, your first love will find you. (Especially if you met as children and were then tragically separated. Then there’s really no escape.)

Brooding is best done in the shower.

Prosecutor Princess: I feel your pain, Park Shi Hoo, but I’d rather feel your abs.

The primary purpose of flower pots is hitting people on the head. The secondary purpose of flower pots is potting flowers.

Most “off” buttons on cell phones don’t actually work; to be sure no calls come through, you must remove the phone’s battery.

Twenty is the new sixteen.

After dark, it’s fine to drink your body weight in soju. Drinking as much as a sip before the sun sets, though, is an indication of a serious drinking problem.

Tying your head-towel in the most complicated way possible is key to fitting in at the sauna.

Gravity in Korea has a very special property not seen in other nations: any falling human being will inevitably fall onto the lips of another human being.

There are two kinds of noribang singers: the laughably bad and the Kpop-idol good.

Protect the Boss: Exhibits A and B.

Approximately one third of all Koreans own their own department store or upscale hotel. The other two-thirds make a living by delivering milk and sewing on doll’s eyes.

A meal without rice is not a meal.

Always insist on a blood test before the wedding. Odds are in the upper 40 percent range that your husband-to-be is also your brother.

In Korea, it’s impossible to leave your house without seeing a dramatic public declaration of love.

The state of a person’s lips is an important indicator of their well-being. Shiny lips means they’re about to be kissed. Pale lips mean they’re sick. Pale and cracked lips mean they’re dying.

No blind date in the history of the world has ever resulted in marriage.

If someone says “You’re not making trouble, are you?,” say yes. If you’re talking to an American, they’ll assume that you’re making trouble and are therefore fun to be around. If it’s a Korean, they’ll assume that you’re not making trouble and are therefore a valuable member of society.

The smaller your face, the more attractive you are. (Say Korea and Beetlejuice.)

Never give shoes to someone you like, or you’ll have to spend the next three episodes talking about how you shouldn’t have given shoes to someone you like.

Forehead kisses are PG-13.

Boys over Flowers: “Are you crazy, Ji Hoo? There are children here.”

Have a bad day? No problem. Just go to the hospital for an IV drip of some nameless fluid, no questions asked, no reasons given.

Korea is comprised of three locations: Seoul, Busan, and Jeju.

Your forehead is the second most logical place to crack the shell of your hardboiled egg. (Your friend’s forehead is the first most logical.)

Nosebleeds mean certain death or tragic overwork.

All Koreans have giant framed photos of themselves on hand at all times, just in case they die suddenly.

Two classes of people use mini-vans: Celebrities and kidnappers.

Flawless skin is only as far away as the nearest paper face mask and sliced cucumber. (Unfortunately, that’s very far.)

Adding “yo” at the end will solve all your problems.

Hospitalized people are very easily confused, which is why “hospital” should always be written on their clothes in at least one language.

At any given moment, most of Korea’s adult population is studying abroad.

The best kimchi comes from unrefrigerated jars stored in the backyard.

Fermentation Family: “Let me get this straight.
We’re going to eat produce that has been out here how long?”

The ultimate signs of true love are: unsolicited sharing of earbuds, straightening of discarded shoes, and couples pajamas.

In every story, there’s a second lead. Don’t be it.

If you’re good, hardworking, and kind, you will always win in the end. Or die.

You might be unhealthily obsessed with Korean drama if...

In this screencap from Big, the role of Amanda is played by Suzy.
The role of Korean drama is played by Gong Yoo.

It’s physically impossible for you to be within seventy feet of a computer without checking Dramabeans and Couch Kimchi for updates.

You’ve watched more than 5 drama episodes in a row…after midnight.

At any given moment, you know how much a plane ticket to Seoul would cost. (A ten-day birthday trip in October? Roundtrip Boston to Incheon, $1,235.50.)

You’ve ever canvassed the local Asian markets in search of a bottle of soju…or six.

You can’t see a Mini Cooper without checking the driver’s seat for Choi Han Gyul.
 

You’ve caused yourself actual physical pain by doing the finger-flick against your own forehead, just because you wanted to know what the leads in your drama were going through.

You think your bedroom décor would be massively improved with the addition of Piggy Bunny.

You religiously read DramaTic, and plan to consider it a significant personal milestone when you’re finally able to recognize at least half of the dramas mentioned by name in any given post.

You’ve said the word aigoo aloud in a totally unironic manner.

You live in fear of Internet data caps.

You’ve watched a raw drama episode before it was subbed. You had no idea what the hell was going on, but at least the wait was over.


Your neighbors have ever asked why you were bellowing, “For the love of God, look both ways before you cross the road!” while alone in your apartment.

You can’t read a single song title on your iPod’s top 25 list. (But they’re all categorized as “Kdrama OST.”)

You can sing along with each of said top 25 songs—phonetically.

You've turned your family and friends into a crack team of spies North Korea would envy. Every time they come across something related to South Korea, however tangentially, they drop everything to let you know. ("Guess where my new underwear were made!")

A disproportionate number of the bookmarks in your Web browser have the word Korea in them.

You’ve re-watched your favorite Korean drama from beginning to end in 48 hours or less for the express purpose of improving your mood after a terrible week.

Your consumption of rice, ramen, and green onions has recently skyrocketed.

Learning Korean has moved from item 8.751 x 10⁸⁰⁰ to number 10 on your list of things to do before you die. (And it’s only slightly more likely to happen than item 11: Make out with Gong Yoo.)

You think the hanbok is a good, universally flattering look that should be revived in the modern world. And your closet.

You have your own Kdrama blog. (Bonus points if counting your own visits would probably quintuple the number of hits it has received.)

You know the full names of every character in Sungkyunkwan Scandal, but suspect you can accurately pronounce none of them. (Or, indeed, the show’s title.)

You’ve watched a single drama more than three times…in one month.

Your primary reason for wanting a boyfriend/husband/older brother is to have an opportunity to call someone “oppa.” If you have a boyfriend/husband/older brother, you have—much to his surprise and confusion—called him “oppa.”
 
You’ve worried about the military enlistment of a man you’ve never met, in a country you’ve never been to. (Will the other soldiers pick on him because he distracted their girlfriends by being so cute in his dramas?!?!)

...Any others?

Yet Another Relatively Mammoth List of Short Kdrama Lists

Reasons Korean dramas are better than American TV
1. Beginnings, middles, and ends.

2. Love stories get to be the true stars of the show.

3. Two words: flower boys.

Is that a gun, or are you just happy to see me?

Toughest Kdrama female leads

1. Kim Hang Ah, King 2 Hearts. Need some bad-guy butt kicked? Your mother being held hostage by a psycho with a thing for the pointier kinds of dental equipment? Stuck in the middle of an international incident with a loaded gun pointed at your head? Kim Hang Ah is the one to call.

2. Hwang Jin Yi, Hwang Jin Yi. She lived her life for art in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles, even going so far as to eschew true love in favor of dancing. No man ever got the better of her—although, interestingly, some women did.

3. Na Bo Ri, Hello, My Teacher. She may have been bumbling, but Bo Ri would do anything within her power (and a number of things that weren’t) to protect her students.

Nothing to see here, folks.

Kdrama couples with no chemistry whatsoever

1. Eun Sung and Woo Han, Shining Inheritance. I would say these two seemed more like brother and sister than lovers, but I’ve never seen siblings so visibly uncomfortable around each other.

2. Young In and Seung Hyo, Who Are You? Your dad, that’s who, and it shows every time the viewer looks at him.

3. Jan Di and Joon Pyo, Boys before Flowers. It’s just as well that these two had no chemistry—this spectacularly cracktacular drama needed a flaw or two.

Lo, it is the single most heavenly kiss in all of Korean drama.

Kdrama couples with Nobel-Prize-level chemistry

1. Eun Chan and Han Gyul, Coffee Prince. If life were ever-so-slightly more prone to magical realism, the heat between these two would actually cause televisions to melt.

2. Byung Hee and Chul Su, What’s Up, Fox. He always looks as if he’d like to eat her alive—in a good way.

3. Hee Jin and Boong Do, Queen In-Hyun’s Man. You know, maybe he really was a player all along: Kisses that hot take practice. And spawn real relationships, it seems.

Ah, young love in all its splendor.

Kdrama bromances that should have been consummated

1. Yeo-Rim and Gael-Oh, Sungkyunkwan Scandal. The show never dared to make the romance in this bromance happen, but I suspect the imaginations of many viewers did. Sweet, funny, and supportive of each other’s quirks, I would have liked them even better than this drama’s main couple if they’d gotten together. (Above image borrowed from A Bag’s Life.)

2. Dong Joo and Ma Roo, Can You Hear My Heart? Their relationship was far and away the best thing about this show, and they spent half of its running time rolling around in bed together anyway. If only a little kissing had been thrown into the bargain, my enjoyment of this drama would have skyrocketed.

3. Lee Gak and Tae Moo, Rooftop Prince. This edgy, love-hate relationship would have been even edgier and love-hatier if they’d just given in to (the audience’s) baser desires and made out instead of playing all that squash.

Hmm...where have I seen a Kdrama kiss shot in front of a similar background?

More things I love about Kdrama romances

1. Hot kisses. Contrary to common wisdom, there are smoking hot Kdrama kisses out there—and in some ways they’re all the better because they’re so very rare.

2. Reincarnation talk. The deck might be stacked against the lovers in this lifetime, but it kills me when they’re already hopeful for the next.

3. The back hug. Most Kdrama front hugs feature stick-stiff girls looking like they’re mentally tallying an upcoming dry-cleaning bill. The back hug is a pure, nonsexual act of love and comfort in which the she gets to take control.

Guess what? This in no way excuses the awful thing you just did.

Incredibly horrible things a Kdrama character has done to his or her lover (that the show expects you to forgive without batting an eyelash)

1. Attempted rape on a hotel room bed. She was visibly terrified by his use of brute force one minute and confessing her love for him the next? Ick.

2. With the help of the second male lead, she convinced her soulmate that she’d died—and let him believe it for years. That dreamy surprise meeting in the final scene should have involved a slap and some screaming, not loving, dewy-eyed glances.

3. Trying to strangle the female lead through the bars of his prison cell. Clearly this was traumatic for all involved, especially the actress: the scene must have taken several attempts to film, because from the very beginning you could already see the angry red marks on her neck.

(Drama names for this section will be posted in the comments to avoid spoiling anyone.)

::insert Jaws theme music here::

Kdrama places I want to visit

1. The place where Lie to Me’s finale was shot. Green waters, palm trees, volcanic rocks: even without a dreamy male lead, this is a place where I’d like to spend some time.

2. Heaven, Earth, and Man, the restaurant in Kimchi Family. On dumpling soup and scallion pancake day, please!

3. The giant Japanese bookstore in Someday. Bookstores make me happy on a visceral level, and although it might be suspiciously close to hell on earth to be in one this enormous and yet not be able to read a word, I’d be willing to give it a shot. I love how books look, and feel, and smell, whatever language they’re written in.

I would give him a huge tip, that’s for sure.

Things every drama writer thinks Korean women want

1. For Lee Min Ho to wash her hair (which happened in both Personal Preference and City Hunter)

2. To step between Park Shi Hoo and a deadly weapon (see both Family’s Honor and Princess’s Man)

3. To wear couple rings with Park Yoochun (as in both Sungkyunkwan Scandal and Rooftop Prince)

It’s a miracle anyone survived the Joseon Dynasty, between all the royal
poisonings and dangerous playground equipment. From The Princess's Man.

Kdrama things that differ fundamentally from their western counterparts

1. Swinging standing up. Really? I spent my entire elementary school career being yelled at for doing this on the playground, and it’s actually the traditional Korean approach to swings?

2. Rubbing your palms together. When an American does this, it means we’re excited and looking forward to eating/seeing/doing something. When a Korean does it, it means they’re begging. I guess the common theme is that it’s expressing hope for something you want, but it’s bizarre that the same gesture means something totally different in these two cultures.

3. Opening envelopes along a short edge, not the long one. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve accidentally ripped through the top fold of an envelope’s contents. Why don’t we Americans adopt this safer method for opening mail?

I want to go to there (on a number of levels).

Unspeakably wonderful things people overlook about Coffee Prince

1. Props and set direction. From Eun Chan’s grown-up version of a kid’s scheduling chart to Han Sung’s castle in the clouds, the things and places associated with this drama’s characters have just as much to say about who they are as the actors do.

2. Locations. Seoul has never looked more lush, green, and welcoming. From the Coffee Prince shop itself to the tree-lined hill leading from Han Sung’s house and the checkerboard-pavement of the playground Yoo Joo frequents, this show was a gift to Korea’s tourism board.

3. The clothes. In this case, the clothes really did make the man…and the woman. Without their amazing wardrobes, Coffee Prince’s actors couldn’t have been so successful in creating indelible characters. Han Gyul, the impeccably tailored ladies’ man; Eun Chan, the everyday girl who happened to prefer baggy jeans to short skirts; and Han Sung, the low-key, comfortable hipster. My favorite example of a wardrobe choice that goes above and beyond the call of duty? On her big night with Han Gyul, Eun Chan wore a boyish red polo shirt. When she returned from Italy a year later, a different girl but still the same person, she wore a girlier version of the very same red polo shirt.

My drama cave (note the Coffee Prince
box set next to the cable box).

Things all North American Kdrama fans should be lucky enough to have

1. Sony’s blu-ray player featuring Google TV. Most of the “Smart TVs” they’re selling these days aren’t that smart at all: they allow you to download apps, but rope off the rest of the Internet. Not so with this set-top Google TV device. Using it, I can visit any website on my television—and watch videos from Dramafever, Kimchidrama, Mysoju, and Dramacrazy. (Just not Viki, for some bizarre reason.)

2. Logitech’s Squeezebox radio. It uses wireless Internet to access radio stations anywhere in the world—including Seoul. (And Jeju, Teajeon, Ulsan, Cheonju, Gangneung, Kwangju, and Pusan...)

3. A Dramafever premium membership. Always reliable, always fast, and always decently subbed, Dramafever is worth every penny they charge. (And a many more, actually.) My membership predates the recent price hike, so a year of Kdrama is costing me about a third of one month’s cable bill. The only changes I could hope for would be a bit more coverage of new dramas (A Wife's Credentials, wherefore art thou?) and a stronger backlist of old shows.


The most popular Google searches that land people on this blog
1. Gong Yoo girlfriend. Yup. I definitely have the lowdown on that.... Or not, other than sometimes wishing it were me. (And then realizing I could probably only think of ways to keep him entertained for an hour or so before he would want to go do something athletic, and I would want to re-enact scenes from Coffee Prince. Which, it goes without saying, would be awkward.)

2. Family’s Honor review. I guess nobody else wrote much about this, so I’m toward the top of the search pile.

3. Painter of the Wind. Once again, hardly anyone is still writing about this show, but I can’t shut up about it. (And to the person who searched for “Painter of the Wind” “Incest”: They’re not related by blood, so it doesn’t count!) 

A Fairly Short List of Fairly Short Kdrama Lists

Three Kdrama men with great husband potential

1. Choi Han Gyul, Coffee Prince. Even if he wasn’t smoking hot and filthy rich, Han Gyul would still be a keeper. Funny, sweet, and supportive of his girlfriend’s independence? Sign me up.

2. Lee Sun Joon, Sungkyunkwan Scandal. He’s smart, earnest, and fiercely principled, and even as a man of the Joseon Dynasty is willing to share the household duties with his wife. (I’m lousy at dusting, too, Sun Joon!)

3. Yoon Ji Hoo, Boys Over Flowers. Because I, too, believe a perfect date involves reading together and then napping in a sunny place.

Three Kdrama men who don’t deserve their women 

1. Kim Seung Yoo, Princess’ Man. He started a shallow playboy, turned into a psycho hell-bent on revenge, and ended up abandoning his nation for his personal safety. And she took an arrow for this?

2. Baek Seung Jo, Playful Kiss. It was fun to see a Kdrama girl pursuing her man, when it’s so often the other way around. But Oh Ha Ni? You could do so much better than this distant, hypercritical bag of neuroses. I hoped you would break his heart in the end, I really did.

3. Lee Kung Min, Attic Cat. A giant (admittedly handsome) man child who expects women to take care of him. The show's ending hinted that he might have reformed, but I didn't buy it.

Three not-so-great moments in Kdrama relationships

1. The vicious, this-is-secretly-for-your-own-good breakup. Couldn’t these characters just be up-front about why they think it’s necessary to break up, and trust that their significant other will listen? See, for example, the cockamamie final two episodes of Heartstrings.

2. The wrist grab. The difference between a wrist grab and a hand-hold is more profound than four or five inches: It’s the difference between treating someone like a thing and treating them like a person; between forcefully taking control and working together; between acting like someone’s parent and being their lover.

3. The brush pass, that not-quite-meeting most dramas throw in before their romantic leads are introduced to each other. I suppose it’s meant to show that they’re destined to be together, but mostly it just conveys that people who live in the same city are bound to cross paths at some point. (Note, however, that this can be well done—several Coffee Prince scenes involve brush passes, but they’re so naturally worked into the story that they’re more of a transition between characters than some Deeply Magical Moment of Destiny.)

Three Kdrama villains who deserved worse than they got

1. Prince Suyan, Princess’ Man. Good thing everyone fought so hard and sacrificed so much to keep him from the throne. (That’s all I can say without spoiling the ending, so you may need to trust me on this front.)

2. Oh Yoon Joo, My Princes. She’s cruel, manipulative, and a downright evil bitch, yet her just rewards involve ending up with the handsome and kind second male lead. Just one more reason to dislike this middling show.

3.  Eun Chae Young, What’s Up. Based on the edited-down version of the drama that aired, her character had no closure whatsoever.  She deserved so much more—and so much worse.

Three words and/or phrases describing how much I’m enjoying Family’s Honor

1. Very much

2. Enormously

3. To a ridiculous extent

Three dramas I can’t wait to watch

1. Big. Scheduled to air this summer. If this show isn’t completely awesome, I’m going to need antidepressants. The first reason to be excited is that it’s written by the Hong sisters, capable screenwriters of such gems as My Girlfriend is a Gumiho and Greatest Love. Their work isn’t always perfect—they tend to be better at little details than constructing an overarching plot, for example—but it’s always charming, riddled with amusing pop culture references, and full of likeable characters. The cast is the second reason to be excited: Gong Yoo, of my fevered Coffee Prince dreams; Lee Min-jung, the one Jun Pyo should have ended up with in Boys over Flowers; and Suzy, whose limited acting abilities made her all the more amusing in Dream High. Oh. And it may or may not be based on Tom Hanks’s outlandishly wonderful 80s movie Big. (P.S. to the Hong sisters: if you’re going to continue pillaging movies beloved during my American childhood, may I suggest a Korean spin on Labyrinth?)

2. King 2 Hearts. Currently airing. My drama watching policy is not to start anything that isn’t completely subbed and available for streaming, so it’s going to be a while before I see this one. Based on everything I’ve read, though, it’s totally wonderful—and I’ll know if it manages to keep being totally wonderful right up to the end before I even see episode 1, which is somehow comforting.

3. Twelve Men in a Year. Finished airing in Korea as of April 5. A romantic comedy revolving around a magazine writer who decides to date one man from each of the Chinese zodiac signs? Yes please. Cable shows like this one are generally overlooked on English-language Kdrama news sources, so Twelve Men has been flying a bit under the radar. I haven’t even been able to find a listing for it on Drama Fever, but plan to hunt it out somewhere.

Three things I’m totally desensitized to in Korean Dramas

1. Drunkenness. American movies and TV shows may show drinking, but their characters only get drunk when the plot is about frat boys or didactic struggles with alcoholism. Nowadays, even a grandmother staggering drunken down the street wouldn’t cause me to bat an eyelash.

2. Men in pink. Western men often have masculinity issues when it comes to wearing the color pink. They do it sometimes, especially fashion forward or preppy types, but it’s hard to imagine Christian Bale being dressed in pink oxfords throughout the new Batman movie. On the other hand, raspberry jeggings were pretty much formal wear for Lee Min Ho in City Hunter (by contrast, he wore stretch pants in a stylish zebra print when kicking back at home, if I recall correctly.)

3. Multigenerational households. Moving out of the family home is item number one on the post-graduation to-do list of most Americans. Sometimes financial or practical concerns drive us back, but it’s pretty much wired into our hardware that making a home for ourselves is a key sign of adulthood and success. Based on dramaland, however, traditional Korean values lean in the other direction—it’s accepted for girls to stay at home until they’re married, and for boys to stay at home even after that. (I had to pick my jaw up off the floor when the leads in Playful Kiss came back to his parents’ house after their honeymoon, moved her things across the hall to his bedroom, and called it a done deal.)

Three things I’ll never be desensitized to, no matter how much Kdrama I watch

1. Closed-mouth, passionless kisses. Up until the past year or two, these seemed to be the most anyone could ever expect from Korean television. This is all well and good—Korean culture just isn’t as interested in physical displays of affection as Western culture is. But from American perspective, the big culmination of a powerfully epic 16-episode love story deserves some tongue, at least. It feels false and cold when the best kiss the grown-up leads can work up to is reminiscent of ones stolen before we hit puberty. Thanks to today’s youth-oriented cable shows like Flower Boy Ramen Shop and I Need Romance, though, more realistic physical relationships seem to be on the upswing.

2. Sleeping on the floor. I try not to be one of those “My country, right or wrong” types, but I can tell you one thing America has all over Korea: huge, pillow-topped mattresses on nice high bed frames. I’m sure that people prefer whatever they’re used to, but it’s hard to imagine that sleeping on what boils down to a padded comforter is as comfortable as sleeping on my plush, cozy queen mattress. (I do envy, though, how easy moving must be without all the bulky furniture.)

3. Lack of commercial breaks. For someone who has spent the last few years watching American TV on DVD, it’s weird that there are no placeholder cuts intended for commercial placement in Korean dramas. But there’s a good reason for this: Korean law doesn’t allow commercials to interrupt broadcast television; instead they run before or after the show on air. (This doesn’t apply to cable networks, which explains the painfully obvious editing jumps for commercial breaks in dramas like the What’s Up.) Just like in America, though, everyone gets around this by implanting ads right into the script of the show—“Smart phones aren’t hard to use after all!” “Look at how my amazing car does the parallel parking for me!” “This iPad app allows me to play the gayageum without lugging that heavy old instrument around all the time!”




Three things I thought I’d always dislike about Korean drama, but have grown to love
1. Relationship terms. At first, all this oppa-ing seemed designed to keep people in their place—a constant reminder of the totem pole of social worth and the inequalities in their relationships. I can now see the flip side of this coin, though: relationship terms can be a celebration of the ties between people and all the many viewpoints they have to share, whether they’re hubaes or seonbaes, dongsaengs or hyungs.


2. Melodramatic chipmunk-esque camera work (see video, below). Painfully old-fashioned and deserving of an eye-roll as it is, there’s something to be said about the visceral power of a quick zoom in dramatic scene: it punctuates whatever crazy thing has just happened and pulls you directly into the action. I was stunned the first time this technique popped up in my drama watching, but now it inevitably leaves me hungry for more.

3. Sageuk garb. Before I even saw my first show set during the Joseon Dynasty, I watched Sweet 18. This 2004 drama featured an everyday girl marrying the first son of a main family, which is harder than it might sound: it involves running a big traditional household and acting as clan matriarch. And the thing that initially sold the (not-too-bright) female lead on her fiance was seeing him all decked out in traditional clothes. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around this. What was so great about a man carrying a paper fan and wearing dusty-rose pajamas and a weird hat?  Having seen a few historical dramas since then, I get it now: the look is dashing and flamboyant and smacks of deliciously over-the-top sageuk romance. I would probably stop traffic to gaze adoringly at a handsome man in a hanbok, too, and I haven’t even had a lifetime of cultural conditioning to find the look appealing.

A Not-so-short List of Short Kdrama Lists

Three ways Korea is like Vermont, my home state:

1. Our cars have green license plates.
2. Both are full of hills and mountains, most of them likewise green.
3. Although some areas are heavily populated and cosmopolitan, as soon as you pass their boundaries you’re surrounded by farmland (and poverty of varying degrees of abjectness). 

Three ways Korea is unlike Vermont, my home state:

1. In the US, state funding for television is practically non-existent. In Korea, the government owns entire TV stations. (As is so often the case, both extremes seem to suck.)
2. Although it snows here just like it does in Kdramas, nobody ever thinks to use an umbrella during a snowstorm. We’re kind of stupid, it seems.
3. To the best of my knowledge, no adult Vermonter has ever received a piggyback ride in the history of the world.

Three things I’d like to see in more Kdramas:

1. Smart girls, who read books and make witty comments. See, for example, Rory Gilmore. (Or her friend Lane—who’s Korean, after all.)
2. More girl-centered sageuks, fusion or not. Clearly Joseon women didn’t get a lot of excitement (Painter of the Wind implied they were only allowed out of their homes once a year), but Kdrama is no place for slavish devotion to historical accuracy, now is it? 
3. A continuation of the trend toward men in shower and/or bath scenes. Not the most noble of desires, certainly, but hard to resist.

Three things I never want to see in another Kdrama:

1. Blank-eyed caricatures of stupid girls, ala the dread Bong Uri of Can You Hear My Heart?
2. Last-minute diagnoses of and/or deaths from cancer.
3. Sports-themed plots. (Birdie Buddy? What’s next? Curling Cutie? Diving Darling?  Let’s just hope they stop before getting to the almost inevitable Snake-charming Slut.)

Three Korean actors I’d like to see more of:

   

1. Im Ju Hwan from What’s Up. Tends to be slightly wise-ass, slightly puppyish, and totally handsome. (Currently doing his mandatory military service. Couldn’t he serve his country by acting in another sageuk, instead?)
2. Bae Soo Bin from Shining Inheritance. Dreamy and sad-eyed; apparently massively prolific, but I’ve only seen him in a few shows to date.
3. Hero Jaejoong from Protect the Boss. Brings the funny, brings the cute, brings me to whatever he’s in. Also, sings.

Three great moments in every Kdrama relationship:

1. The first longing glance.
2. When he asks her never to smile/cry/laugh in front of another man, feminist principles be damned.
3. The ritual eyelash touch.

Three randomly sexual moments in Kdrama:

1. Every time the female lead got on a horse in The Princess’s Man.
2. Flower Boy Ramen Shop’s panting, sweaty volleyball daydreams.
3. Jan-di’s “fireman” in Boys over Flowers. Those Koreans sure are an innocent lot if their minds don’t go immediately to the gutter at the thought of all the hoses involved in said profession.

Three Kdrama jobs I want:

1. Writer at a smutty men’s magazine (What’s Up, Fox?).
2. Scuba-diving aquarium cleaner (One Fine Day).
3. Manga author (Someday).

Three Kdrama jobs I’d rather not have:

1. Convenience store clerk (Who Are You?).
2. Milk deliverer (Coffee Prince, Shining Inheritance, and all other Kdramas starring a plucky girl).
3. Government party planner (Lie to Me).

Three Kdramas I’ve loved enough to watch more than once:

1. Coffee Prince (3 times). My obsession with this drama knows no bounds—as I’m sure you've noticed if you’ve spent more than 2 seconds on this blog.
2. Sungkyunkwan Scandal (2 times). Smart, sassy, and incredibly fun, this show has a heart of gold.
3. Boys before Flowers (1.5 times). The television equivalent of tuna-noodle casserole. Homey, totally undemanding, and embarrassingly tasty.

Three Kdramas I’ve hated enough to stop watching:

1. Triple (episode 1). A grating female lead, Korean-style fat jokes, and a male lead who’s about 20 years too old? No thanks.
2. Miss Ripley (episode 3). The idea of a hard-working Kdrama girl gone wrong is fun, but not my cup of tea.
3. Queen Seon Duk (episode 1). This show might be awesome, but its 62-episode run is too daunting for me to even think about. 

Three heart-wrenchingly wonderful Kdrama kisses:

1. Sungkyunkwan Scandal, episode 17

This slow, tender kiss goes all the way past sweet to reverent, but it’s the shot of their clasped hands at the end that puts it completely over the top. Sigh.

 

2. Coffee Prince, episode 10

The embodiment of love and trust. I don’t even need the subtitles for this scene—the dialogue, sadly enough, is etched on my heart, just like the rest of Coffee Prince’s script. 

Watch Kiss - Coffee Prince in Music  |  View More Free Videos Online at Veoh.com

3. Padam Padam, episode 8 (skip to 6:30)

Slow and sweet, just like the best kisses always are. Also a beautifully handled example of a standard Kdrama convention: a kiss isn’t a kiss until someone’s eyes are shown sliding slowly shut.

Three frustratingly awful Kdrama kisses:

1. Autumn in My Heart (skip to 3:05)

Their families are against them, their friends are against them, fate is against them. Must her jacket’s collar also be against them? The only real kiss in this entire drama, and it’s very nearly foiled by outerwear.

2. My Girlfriend is a Gumiho, episode 12

Bloodless, bland, and boring, just like all Lee Seung Gi’s on-screen kisses.

3. Personal Taste, episode 10

A slobbery cross between CPR and Return of the Living Dead. A kiss from Lee Min Ho seems like a hard thing to mess up, but his dramas always seem to manage it. The infamous “game over” kiss is a total ambush, barely involving the female lead—he might as well be kissing a mannequin.