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Crash Landing on You, 11
I would like to point out that Se Ri gave herself a North Korean makeover with no help from Jeong Hyeok, in defiance of long-standing kdrama tradition. It's not until Jeong Hyeok gets to South Korea that this show features a Pygmalion-style makeover--of a dude.
Well-played.
Crash Landing on you, 10
Just when I was prepared to be tired of this show and drop it, they twist the story in an amazing way. So many Korean dramas never really get beyond one setpiece, but this one really has a lot more to offer. (For example, a cameo by Kim Soo Hyun--playing a character from one of his old movies--that they're confident enough to bury after the closing credits.)
Crash Landing on You, 2
What a pity that drama soldier wasn't caught watching actress Song Ye Jin in Summer Scent instead of its contemporary series, Stairway to Heaven. All I know for sure, though, is that he sounds eerily like me when I'm discussing Korean dramas with civilians. "If you watch South Korean dramas, nine out of ten are suffering from amnesia!"
Crash Landing on You, 2
Se-ri is a total boss, and let me tell you I'm here for it. She's in mortal peril, having accidentally found herself behind the North Korean border. But she doesn't snivel or whimper get scared--instead, she does exactly what she does when she's at work. She takes control of the situation, reflexively commands anyone who happens to be within hearing distance, and finds a way to come out on top. She is effortlessly confident in herself and never for one minute doubts that she's capable of taking on the entire world, if need be.
This kind of female lead is risky business in Korean drama. All to often she becomes a joke or a clown, someone the show expects the audience to laugh at. Because, after all, aren't women just helpless flowers in need of men to guide them? Compare and contrast Se Ri with Cheon Song-yi from My Love from the Stars, an ineffectual goofball with zero self-awareness. (Interestingly, she's also a creation of this show's screenwriter.) As a top actress, that character might have been a savvy businesswoman in control of her life and work. Instead, she needed an alien to tell her which was way up, and the show too great delight in making us watch him do it.
What I'm hoping for here is a couple more like the one in Descendants of the Sun--a woman who gets things done, and just happens to be adored by a hot, super-competent soldier. If that actually comes to pass, I might have to eat some hat. Like macho jerk Lee Min Ho, I've long believed Hyun Bin would never play a male lead I didn't want to kick in the face. What a time to be alive.
Why didn't anyone tell me how timely this drama is? The opening scene shows groups of people gathered to hear two novels read aloud--one a traditional Korean romance with lots of fluttering hearts, and the other the notoriously tragic Sorrows of Young Werther, which ends with Werther dying without hooking up with a girl he loves. Naturally, the people at the first reading are transported with delight, and the people at the second are ticked off. No wonder--it's like Game of Thrones all over again.
Woori was truly a valuable addition to my kdrama vocabulary. Thank you, Because This Is My First Life.
Okay, so while it's been a long time since I watched a Korean drama, it hasn't been so long that I didn't instantly realize that Kim Chang Wan went out and bought himself a wig. It looks like he's got a long-haired guinea pig perched on his head.
You can tell it's been a long time since I watched a Korean drama: I'm surprised to realize that in the first half hour of this show, five separate meals have been eaten. If this were American tv, you'd have to watch an entire season to see that much eating.
And everything sounds so crunchy and good, too...
This show's biggest weakness is its amnesia. The most obvious example of the problem is Dan Yi's daughter, the poor, motherless child who was abandoned at a Filipino boarding school and never heard from again. Her character existed for literally one reason: to excuse Dan Yi's financial desperation and the lie it drove her to. The kid has never been present in this story as a human being. What's she even going to think when she finds out that uncle Eun Ho is her new daddy? And will Dan Yi even remember to tell her?
There's also evidence of tragic memory loss in this drama's central romance. Dan Yi and Eun Ho supposedly grew up together, but their relationship gives us no sense of their shared history. When they're all cuddled up reading together after they start dating, why don't they acknowledge that it's like the time they spent in the hospital together as teenagers? Dan Yi and Eun Ho are likeable enough together, but they feel like two characters who just met, not people who have been close friends for a decade. They share no inside jokes, they have no common friends.
If only this screenwriter had watched In Time with You before she started work, things would have been different.
This drama is on cable, and it's obviously intended for older audiences. So why no banging? The lack of physical heat between its lead couple is the one thing that stands between RIABB and true greatness. I've watched I Hear Your Voice--I know Lee Jong Suk has it in him.
Dan Yi's breakup with Gyeoroo Books is literally the most heartbreaking thing I've seen in years. And how refreshing to watch a drama that allows its heroine an emotional life outside of her romantic relationship.
When confronted with an employee who's over qualified for her job, this show's boss said,"It's not like we need a botanist to mow the lawn." And then I threw a box of tissues at my TV.
This is all pretty close to home for me, as I'm essentially a botanist who is mowing the lawn in my job.
I appreciate that this is possible for me because I have a lot of advantages: I'm white, well educated, and older but not really old. I'm also physically capable, and I don't have a criminal record. If any one of those things were different, I might not have been able to switch careers after twenty years spent in a single industry. But as it is, I feel like I have a new beginning, and that I can go as far in my new career as my strength will carry me. Which is a beautiful thing about the idealized American dream, when it actually works like it's supposed to: we can make our own opportunities and not be limited by our pasts. My employer benefits from all the experience and knowledge I've gained elsewhere, and I benefit from having an employer that is open to what I can bring to the table, even if it wasn't necessarily in my job description.
To put it bluntly, Dan Yi is totally fucked. And while it would be nice to think that her plight in this show was purely manufactured for the sake of drama, I’m pretty sure it has roots in real life. There’s a reason Korea always scores so low on gender equity--women who live there are faced with an impossible decision between traditional lifestyles and the working world.
As a young woman, Dan Yi got married and left her job to fill the traditional role of household manager and stay at home mom. We don’t really know why she chose to do this, but we do know that it would have been hard--or maybe even impossible--for her to keep working after getting pregnant. Working mothers aren’t the norm in Korea, and the ones that do exist suffer both professionally and personally.
After years as a stay at home mom, changes in Dan Yi’s personal circumstances make it essential for her to find a job. And instead of being rewarded for putting her working life on hold to raise a child, she’s punished every step of the way. No company will hire her, no matter what she’s willing to do: Potential employers won’t give her jobs that call for experience, because she’s been out of the workforce for so long that they assume she’s no longer at the cutting edge of thought and technology. Entry-level jobs are also closed to her, because Korea’s age-based hierarchy would make her younger colleagues uncomfortable when giving her menial tasks.
And even now that Dan Yi is happily and successfully back in the workplace, she isn’t really safe--her contract could be terminated at any time. To add insult to injury, it’s actually another woman who calls for her to be fired when her original resume is found.
It’s a good thing Dan Yi is a Kdrama heroine, which means she has a handsome, supportive man just waiting to house, feed, and clothe her. But in the real world, there are no guarantees a woman would have someone like that in her life. Instead, she’d probably end up having to return to her family home (if such a thing even existed), or immediately find a new man to marry.
This is a sweet, funny, drama, but at its core is a serious problem in Korean society. Women have two choices: become a wife and mother and live at the mercy of their breadwinning husband, or become a career woman and sacrifice having a family.
What, couldn't they print stickers that would match the bio stock's color? I've seen much bigger errors corrected seamlessly--like the time technical problems caused a front cover to be printed without the book's title. A foil stamp later, and the book was on shelves with nothing worse than a slightly higher unit price.
Having said that, this show's writer clearly loves not only books, but also publishing and the people who work in it. It's is a rare gem of a workplace drama--surprisingly, it actually involves drama about work. (You'd think such a thing might be required for the genre, but that's not at all the case. Put some high heels on a shelf in the background, and boom--shoe designer.) Everything feels real here, from the passion to the budget nightmares to the paper cuts. How could I not love it?
Although I love Korean dramas, I can't say that they include all that many moments that feel relatable to me. That makes the shoe-shopping fight in this episode all the more special. It showcases a moment I think everyone has experienced (and from both sides).
Young A is blind with hysterical rage that's completely out of proportion to the situation. In a scene that might have been right out of a melo, she screams in sheer, passionate outage at her husband in the hallway of a mall. But it's obvious that her anger isn't just in response to Ji Hong not sticking up for her this one time. It's born of an entire married life of buried disagreements and unhappinesses, and this one event was just the fuse that made them all explode.
And poor Ji Hong. He's doing what he always does--making nice. His easygoing temperament has long ago morphed into meek acceptance, and he just wants to get out of the situation without making anyone mad. He deescalates and deescalates until he's all but invisible. Which, of course, makes everyone mad.
That's a scene drawn from life right there.
This drama reminds me a lot of the American show Younger, which is about a midlife divorcee who lies about her age to secure an entry-level job in publishing. This is especially true of marketing director Ko Yoo Sun, who's a dead ringer for Younger's Diana Trout. They have the same imperious bearing, the same polished style and inscrutable personalities. But there is one key difference: Diana makes Liza do meanial tasks on Younger, but I don't remember ever getting the sense that she wants to sabotage her assistant's career. That's not the case with Yoo Sun, who goes out of her way to manufacture busywork that's below even Dan Yi's pretend credentials. I'm sure she's eventually going to be revealed as a hard-love mentor, but right now she's an icky stereotype about single professional women who live for work and are willing to hurt other people who might get in their way.
I’ve been on Kdrama hiatus for a while now, but I’ve watched four episodes of this show in the past two days. It’s hitting all the buttons for me in the way no recent drama has managed to do--it’s just realistic enough to be compelling, and just Kdramay enough to be fun to watch.
Even from its synopsis, I was pretty sure this was the show for me. I love books and spent a long time working in the publishing industry before deciding to try a new profession this year after being downsized. So I get where Dan Yi is coming from: as a recent divorcee returning to the workforce after raising her daughter, she’s a stranger in a strange land, a mature adult finding that she has to relearn the world from the ground up. In a scene just after Dan Yi got her new job, she spent a solid five minutes trying to figure out the meaning of an abbreviation everyone else threw around with ease. I have been there, folks, and it’s not a good place to be.
But Dan Yi’s difficulties are balanced out by this show’s wish-fulling Kdrama elements, like her forced cohabitation with the best friend who’s loved her from afar since they were kids. This involves both gazes of puppyish adoration and a believable take on the easy comfort of a lifelong friendship. That Lee Jong Suk has a way with cozy domesticity, and while LIABB isn’t quite on a par with 2013′s I Hear Your Voice, it’s close.
Unexpectedly, this show’s workplace elements set it apart from that earlier drama. While I Hear Your Voice’s legal plotline was patently ridiculous, LIABB offers interesting tidbits about what life in a publishing house is really like. From the torture of writing cover copy to the tragedy of pulping books, somebody involved in this drama really knows something about the business of publishing.
The one thing I’m wary about at this point is the brewing love triangle. Nothing much has happened with the second male lead yet, but the show is falling into predictable patterns. Then again, Dan Yi and Eun Ho are an interesting twist on the typical fresh slate of a rom-com couple, so maybe this screenwriter has some new ideas about love triangles, too.
