Drama Review: To the Beautiful You (2012)

Grade: B-

Category

Cross-dressing romantic comedy

What it’s about

The fourth Asian drama to be based on Japan’s Hana Kimi manga series, To the Beautiful You is the story of an American girl who moves to her Korean homeland in hopes of inspiring her favorite angst-ridden athlete to return to competition. The catch? Her big plan to spend time with him involves pretending to be a boy and attending his boys-only boarding school.

Initial impression

I hate to admit it, but 15 more episodes of this and I will be a happy girl. It’s the perfect, breezy mixture of zingy chemistry, teen melodrama, and goofy comedy. (Okay. I could have done without the banana peel bit. Has anyone outside of Looney Tunes ever actually stepped on one and slid like that?) But then again, I’m always a sucker for high school shows, even if I’m officially old enough to be skeeved out by the shirtless infants prowling around the locker room. Try again after the puberty fairy visits, boys.

Final verdict

If you’re looking for a youthful drama that’s cute, cuddly, and cotton-candy delicious, To the Beautiful You is just the ticket. If you’re in the mood for something that accurately represents any aspect of life on planet Earth or includes things like logic or nuanced characterization, you should keep on going. 

There’s nothing particularly good about this show, but thanks to its likeable characters and sweet OTP shenanigans, it managed to be a fun diversion with just enough narrative momentum to keep me coming back week after week.

I’m also happy to report that To the Beautiful You actually has some emotional weight and tackles some of the thornier concerns gender-bending dramas so often ignore (memorably including “where should I hide my tampons while living in all-boys dormitory?”). Its idol leads do a reasonable job of carrying the show, but TTBY’s real heart and soul is its second male lead, Cha Eun Gyul. Played by an professoinal actor with a slew of credits to his name (how novel!), Eun Gyul often seems to have parachuted in from some other, better drama. The rest of the characters are thinly drawn at best, with seemingly no lives or motivations beyond the claustrophobic world of Genie High.

Flawed as it may be, this empty-calorie treat is light, bright, and full of sly references to the cross-dressing Kdramas that came before it. Watching it may barely require consciousness, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth your time if you—like me—are happy to overlook some serious missed opportunities in favor of goofy fun.

Random thoughts

• Episode 1. I tried not to watch this show, but it turns out that I’m even more defenseless in the face of gender-bending dramas than I originally thought. Also, was that just a patented Go Eun Chan bang-blow? I saw what you did there, Show, and I liked it.

• Episode 1. Stop the presses! Did they just acknowledge the existence of menstruation with a shot of the female lead hiding boxes of pads in her dresser? There may not be much originality in this drama, but maybe they’ll finally explain how a girl in disguise is able to share a room and bathroom with a boy for an entire school year without getting tripped up by bodily functions. I sure hope she invested in boy’s underwear, at least, or laundry day is going to be pretty awkward.

• Episode 1. Sangchu, will you be my pillow? You look like you’d be soft and cozy, a welcome change from the vicious wolverine that passes for a cat in my household.

• Episode 2. So where does your average all-boys school come by female cheerleaders? Are they gisaengs? Is there a girl’s school across the lake? Also, I keep cracking up every time someone tries to make the high-jump seem epically important, and/or trips the female lead. You’re a puppyish laugh-riot, Show.

• Episode 3. Excuse me, but are you eating a hamburger with a fork and knife? You may pass as a boy, but nobody would ever believe you’d spent any time in America.

• Episode 3.

Dear Kdrama Overlords:

If you ever need English-language proofreading, I’m just an e-mail away. I’d be delighted to help clarify, for example, the not-insignificant difference between the words “lunch” and “launch.”

Sincerely,

Amanda

• Episode 4. So I like a melodramatic rescue just as much as the next girl, but there are some problems with the follow-through this time. That creepy boy is edging from serial rapist territory to serial killer territory, yet you don’t report his actions to the police? Or get PTSD? Really?

• Episode 5. Show, I love you so much that I’m totally going to overlook the fact that you just left a kitten in a building slated for demolition the next day. And also that said building was still packed with furnishings—wouldn’t somebody have bothered to move them out before D-day?

— Is it my imagination, or is the character of Cha Eun Gyul essentially one big Coffee Prince joke? There’s his name, for one thing, and in episode 3 he said “let’s take this as far as it can go” while heading off to confront the female lead. How Choi Han Gyul-esque!

• Episode 8. I think this show sets some sort of record for slightly closeted gays in Korean entertainment. Not only is there lip-gloss boy and his intense man-crush on Cha Eun Gyul, there’s also the doctor, who had just as much trouble tearing his eyes away from Jae Hee’s smoking hot brother as I did.

— It gives me warm, fuzzy feelings that Jae Hee and her stepbrother are so loving. On the other hand, I’m a little concerned that he’s the first love who taught her to make s’mores. (Poorly, might I add: the whole point is to get the marshmallow charred and hot enough to melt the chocolate.)

—Dear Kdrama Overlords:

I know this show is based on existing source material, but I really think you should consider letting Cha Eun Gyul get the girl in the end. Both leads are cute, but he and Jae Hee clearly belong together.

Sincerely,

Amanda

• Episode 9. Listen carefully, Show, because I’m only going to say this once. I like you. No . . . I love you!

—Did I mention that I love the cheesy little “woosh!” sound the shooting stars make? Like so many things about this show, it’s so lame it’s actually awesome.

• Episode 10. Only in Korea could writers use tampons and porn stashes as props to enable chivalry. Why finding a pile of girlie magazines didn’t encourage the teachers to search the room more thoroughly is beyond me, but I guess it has something to do with the principal’s urgent desire to examine the contraband in more detail.

• Episode 11. Cha Eun Gyul! You are the second bravest, most wonderful character in all of Korean drama. I can’t believe what you did just did, and it kills me that I know how it’s going to turn out.

— Does not compute: Tae Joon can leave campus to buy digestives, but Jae Hee can’t leave to buy tampons. Or is Shangchu actually some sort of Tampax-sniffing guard dog trained to protect the boys from PMS?

—Okay, Tae Joon. The jig is up—stop torturing poor Jae Hee and tell her that you know she’s a girl. Whatever your motivation may be for keeping silent this long, watching her suffer like this is cruel.

• Episode 13. I’ve got the first order of business for South Korea’s new president to consider: making it illegal to store flowerpots anywhere above the ground floor. It would be a lifesaving piece of legislation, clearly.

— The kid who plays Tae Joon is a fine actor, until he reaches beyond his abilities and tries to do something crazy—like express emotion. Then he starts to seem like an extra from the movie The Polar Express, a film notoriously panned for the mechanical nature of its animated characters.

• Episode 14. Way to jump to conclusions Eun Gyul. If I saw someone all wrapped up like that, my first thought would not be “Holy crap—are you a girl?’ It would be “Holy crap, did you break a rib or something?”

Watch it
Drama Fever
Viki

You might also like
The holy quartet of gender-bending Kdramas:  Coffee Prince, Sungkyunkwan Scandal, Painter of the Wind, and You’re Beautiful

Heartstrings, for its youthful and fun summery vibe

Drama Review: Autumn’s Concerto (2009)

Grade: A

Category

Romantic melodrama

What it’s about

A spoiled rich boy with a tragic past and a bad attitude finds angst-ridden love with a cafeteria worker at the college his family owns. After separating them with a slew of soap-opera-style obstacles, the drama catches up with the couple seven years—and one illegitimate son—later.

First impression

After the incessant cheerfulness of A Gentleman’s Dignity, I’m hungry for something unapologetically melodramatic. Looks as if this show is going to fit the bill—there was a dead parent and an attempted child abandonment before the first episode’s opening credits even rolled. That must be some sort of world record for misery, and I, naturally, couldn’t be happier.

Final verdict

Some things are heart-warming—this epic melodrama is closer to heart melting. The 21 lengthy episodes of my first Taiwanese series flew by in a delightful blur of stabbings, terminal diseases, spontaneous amnesia, court trials, and ill-fated (but ultimately triumphant) love triangles. A distant cousin to the Endless Love series of Korean dramas, Autumn’s Concerto is less innocent than most Kdramas when it comes to sex and violence, but is still built of similarly good-hearted DNA. Showcasing a pair of so-beautiful-it-hurts lovers and their mind-bendingly adorable son, it pulls out all the stops when it comes to soapy tribulations, but never fails to keep a relatable human face on the madness. Its somewhat draggy final quarter and inexplicably random final episode didn’t even dent my love for this refreshingly bad-guy-less show, all thanks to its squee-worthy love story and the respectful way it treated its quirky cast of Gilmore Girls-esque characters.

Random thoughts

• I can’t remember if I started off feeling this way, but I love the sound of the Korean language—it has lovely, crisp consonants and pleasantly curvy vowels. Japanese is nice, too. But Chinese? I’m really having difficulty watching this show with the volume on because the dialogue is hurting my ears. In contrast to the other Asian languages I’m familiar with, Chinese is choppy and harsh. Here’s hoping it grows on me, or this might be a long 21 episodes.

• So is it a Taiwanese thing that drama end credits ruin the suspense of the story? “I wonder if the leads get together…but wait, according to the cuddly, sun-drenched closing montage in every episode, they must!” I like to know there’s a happy ending in store, but leaving a little something to the imagination is cool, too.

• Episode 3. I can’t say that Vaness Wu is doing anything for me; he’s too much of an over-processed flower boy for my taste. The female lead’s gardening friend is another story—he’s just my flavor of cute. Clearly, second lead syndrome is going to be an issue in this drama. Finale update: Vaness Wu totally pulled a Gong Yoo—at first, I thought he wasn’t much to look at, but by the end of this drama I was ready to pack my bags and head to Taiwan just in hopes of camping on his lawn. His lovely, expressive face made the show.

• Episode 5. So now I see what people mean about Taiwanese television. This show is like a giant Saturday Night Live sketch spoofing Korean dramas. The plot is so stuffed full of unbelievable, outrageous developments and coincidences that it already puts all 16 episodes of the lunatic Winter Sonata to shame: it has dead parents, abandonment, bullying, over-privileged schoolboys, near-rape, court trials, stymied artistic dreams, and terminal illnesses. What in god’s name is left to fill the next 16 episodes?!? (I’m waiting with bated breath, let me tell you.)

—What’s this? Asian actors believably conveying physical affection? I never thought I’d see the day. ::fans self::

• Episode 10. I’m not a big fan of the young of the species, especially when they suddenly appear in my television shows, but I’ll make an exception this time: the little boy in this drama is so cute my ovaries are all but exploding. On top of that, he actually improves the story, giving the plot more to do than simply split up the main couple and get them back together, time and again. Love the burgeoning family dynamics, love the male lead (now that his hair is shorter, thank god), love the show.

• Episode 16. I’ve heard of hate sex, but a hate marriage? That’s hardcore.

• Episode 18. Picture this: the female lead is locked in a phoneless bedroom by her scheming rival for the male lead’s attention. What happens? In a Korean drama, the girl cries a little, knocks on the door, and then waits to be rescued. In a Taiwanese drama, the girl finds a lighter and burns a towel, thereby setting off the smoke detector and sending the hotel staff running. Well played, drama.

• Episode 20. Having caught up with Dramafever’s subbing of this series, I’ve reluctantly moved over to Dramacrazy for the last two episodes. The bright side? JKShows, whom I hereby nominate for the title of Asian drama fan of the decade, has been there first: he or she has made full-episode files available at YouTube. The not-so-bright side? There’s so much Japanese language subbing on the screen that it’s hard to keep track of what’s going on. It is amusing, though, to watch a character say the word “boss” in Chinese, which is the word “boss” in English, then see “boss” flash by in the Japanese subs, immediately followed by the word “boss” in the English subs. Talk about going full circle.

• Episode 21. This wasn’t an episode so much as it was a 23-minute denouement nugget. Totally discordantly, every single plotline was given its own music-video style happy ending, with little or no connection to the rest of the drama’s narrative. Weird.

Watch it

DramaFever

DramaCrazy (look for the JKShows posts—they’re full episodes)

You might also like

The Endless Love series, for their fabulously over-the-top melodrama

(P.S.: So I figured out what was behind the missing comments—Blogger spontaneously decided they were spam, and hid them away. I've liberated them, and will keep an eye out for this in the future. [And think about finally making the jump to WordPress, where the cool kids hang out.])

Drama Review: Nobuta wo produce (2005)

Grade: A

Category

Jdrama; Coming-of-age friendship

What it’s about

Two high school boys—one the class clown and the other the school heartthrob—make a project out of winning popularity for the new girl, a strange, shy loner. 

First impression

I decided to give this show a try on the recommendation of a Kdrama friend, and really like it as of episode 1. I was turned off Japanese drama early on in my Asian TV obsession after watching some of the freaky Yamato nadeshiko shichi henge. I didn’t understand that show at all, but now I know why: it’s a miles-over-the-top spoof of Nobuta wo produce. Duh.

Final verdict

Television doesn’t get more heartwarming than this show: it’s a tale of an unlikely friendship and a poignant reminder that the perils of adolescence aren’t so different, no matter what country you’re from. Tinged with a dark hint of magical realism, Nobuta wo produce’s 10 forty-five minute episodes were over far too quickly—and made me realize just how bloated and listless Kdrama plotting can be. Every episode stands refreshingly on its own as a fully contained story, but also contributes to the larger narrative arc of the three central students journeying to adulthood. With its slice-of-life vibe, quirky cast of characters, and zippy pacing, this is a drama that pulls you fully into its world.

Random thoughts

• Watching a Japanese drama feels like traveling to a foreign country for the first time: Who are these peculiar people and what is this crazy language they’re speaking? Funny to think Kdramas once felt that way, too—especially now that I’ve internalized Korean culture to such an extent it’s my fellow Americans who leave me confused.

• It might be a touch early in my relationship with JDramas for sweeping generalization, but far be it from me to think I actually need to know about something before I can write about it. So I’ll just come out and say it: To me, Korean drama is 100% fairly dust. Japanese drama, on the other hand, is 30% fairy dust, 60% Dostoyevsky’s Notes from Underground, and 10% unicorn farts. A strange, shocking mixture indeed.

• Episode 1. I had nightmares about those damn monkey paws last night, all thanks to W. W. Jacobs’ terrifying 1902 short story of the same name. Eek! Is this show going to scare me?

• Episode 4. I’m not a very fast runner, but I’d like to be this truth guy. Imagine what fascinating secrets you’d hear if you made a habit of going up to strangers and demanding that they tell you the truth? (Assuming they actually did it instead of punching you in the face.)

• Episode 9. Call me crazy, but I love the little informative notes Japanese-language subbers like to include in their dramas. They make sure their viewers come away from an episode not only having enjoyed the show, but also truly appreciating the finer points of the script. Without them, English speakers like me would never have appreciated Akira’s clever (but goofy stupid) wordplay throughout this drama.

• Episode 10. And the award for the most delightful moment of the show goes to: “Does anyone have a saw?” Nobuta asks at random as she and her two friends hang out after school. “Of course I don’t,” the first friend replies ruefully (and understandably, as the request is both inexplicable and utterly unexpected). The second friend pipes up, pulling a small handsaw out of his pocket. “Actually, I do,” he says. “I keep a saw with me just for times like this.” Seriously? Could you be any crazier, drama? Or more wonderful?

• Episode 10.

—::Amanda cries::

 —::Amanda cries some more::

— ::Amanda progresses from crying to weeping::

— ::Amanda edges from weeping toward bawling::

— It’s over??!? What fresh hell is this?

Watch it

Drama Crazy (Psst...some genius has posted full episodes on YouTube that you can access at the bottom of the link list, next to the name JKShows)

My Soju

You might also like

Playful Kiss, for its homey, coming-of-age wackiness 

Boys over Flowers, for its strong friendships and the gritty, real-world atmosphere of Jan Di’s life outside of Shin Hwa High