Money Can't Buy Happiness!

An old man presents an interesting premise. He asks, “What does a person with no money have in common with a person who has too much money?” His response is, “Neither one can have any fun. Having too much money soon becomes boring.” Such is the delusion of money. It cannot buy fun, love, happiness, or anything else that isn’t materialistic. It can only buy things. And things have a highly delusive quality to them. Why? Because people suffer when they don’t get what they want. And even when they get exactly what they want, they still suffer. Because they can’t hold onto it forever.

The same old man reminisces about his childhood days of being able to play with his friends seemingly forever without any rules or constraints. People are very much like children in their attachments to things. A child gets a new toy until he plays with it enough, and then he’s bored with it. Adults are no different. The World of Delusion promises only fleeting moments of happiness that always has the same result for everyone: the feeling of emptiness.

Squid Game is about human greed and how deep and low a person will stoop for a chance at 45 Billion Won (just over 33 million dollars). The target participants in these games are people who are in dire an desperate financial straits. People who owe such a debt that it’s all but impossible for them to get out from under. How they got into these situations isn’t really the issue compared to the fact that they’ve found themselves stuck in a hole they can’t get out of—until they receive a card; an opportunity to not only pay off their debts, but to possibly have enough money to secure their futures. However, nobody explains to them that nearly all lottery winners or people who win exorbitant amounts of money almost always end up broke. Such is the pitfall of “never having enough.” Even Ebeneezer Scrooge once stated, “There is no such thing as rich enough, only poor enough.”

Seong Gi Hun is a man in severe debt. He’s borrowed incredible amounts of money. He’s a divorced man living with his mother and trying to be there for his estranged daughter. He goes so far as to steal money from his mother in order to bet on horse races, with the hope of winning enough to treat his daughter to a birthday dinner. The people he owes money find him and threaten with severe bodily harm if he doesn’t come up with the money soon. He receives the invitation; an opportunity to play a game for money. More money than he could dream of!

Of course, nothing is as it seems as Seong Gi Hun and 455 other participants are whisked away to a strange island to play six games. Winner takes all. What Gi Hun doesn’t realize is that the games played to the death. He watches in horror as 200 people are killed playing, “Red Light, Green Light.” And as with all aspects of human greed, shaky alliances are formed for protection as well employing means of disposing of the competition. Sleepless nights are common as participants fear attacks in the middle of the night, and we wonder just how strong the initial bonds of friendship and comradery will last when lives and the money are on the line.

We find out that this entire game is an instrument of the incredibly rich from various countries and walks of life. Why? For entertainment. For the ability to revel in some “fun.” Never mind that that “fun” comes at the high price of human lives. Nobody cares. Not the people sponsoring the games nor the participants, no matter how much they may cry “foul” they still play. Ironically, after the first game, the participants vote to end the games, but after more time of suffering financial woes, they reluctantly agree to play again. Like people who frequent casinos, they will lose, but they will always come back. Strangely enough, even if they win, they will also always come back. That’s why they say, “The House always wins.”

I watched “Alice in Borderland” right before this series. While both series are incredibly well done and thought-provoking, I found “Alice in Borderland” far more insightful and sublime in its premise that it’s an allegory for life; that the joys and horrors of this world are not real. “Squid Game” is more specific in exposing the level of human greed and how base human “morality” becomes when money is the goal. As the Bible verse states, “For what does it profit a man should he inherit the world but lose his soul?”

It's not hard to guess that Seong Gi Hun wins the games, but interestingly enough, he refuses to use any of the money he’s won. Survivor’s guilt? Blood money? A final conversation with one of he masterminds behind the games causes him to think about his life, as he’s lived a full year without spending any of the money. Finally, after coming across another “participant” it’s clear that the writers have set up a “Season 2” with Seong Gi Hun vowing to expose the people behind the games.

This isn’t your typical “K-Drama.” It’s vicious and brutal without apologizing for it. There are characters you cheer for and others you immediately despise. There are also some you may find yourself cheering for, but in the end, you are hopeful for their downfall. And there are still others you initially despised but find yourself rooting for. Isn’t that very much like how people are treated in the real world? How ironic that most people love to pull a hero up, but not nearly as much as they love tearing one down.

The series was nearly perfect, except for one big flaw. The police officer who is able to sneak onto the island and uncover what is going on. Somehow, the police officer is able to follow a van in the middle of the night along a dark road to an exchange point. I’m not exactly sure how the driver of the van didn’t notice a single car trailing him the entire time. That was really far-fetched. I also didn’t see how the police officer was able to prevent his cellphone from running out of battery power (as he spends much time recording and taking photos). He certainly didn’t have a charger with him! The whole scenario with the officer should have been handled differently. Instead, like too many of the participants, he just had an incredible run of luck!

Performances across the board were fantastic with Lee Jung Jae leading the way. He was fantastic in “Chief of Staff” so I was already excited to see him helming this series. Even the pink hair got a laugh from me!

Squid Game endeavors to say a lot about people and the imbalance that exists in this world between the 1% and everyone else, and how that chasm is getting wider all of the time. It’s been stated that there is only one, true joy that you can have when you have “too much” money. And that, of course, is to share it. To use it to help others who are in need. The irony of money is that it can never buy happiness nor can you take it with you.

Leia Mais

The Beauty of Shadow and Light

******************** I'm reviewing Seasons 1 & 2 here ************************


This series is a masterful allegory about life based on Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland” which is, itself, an allegory as well. However, this series take things to a whole different level.

Paramahansa Yogananda referred to life as like a Cosmic Motion Picture, in which we are the writers, actors, and even the directors in our own cosmic movie. Shakespeare equated life to a stage play saying, “All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances and one man in his time plays many parts.”

In today’s world, one might easily equate life to a video game. You play and play until you’ve mastered the game in order to “clear it.” As you can see, the world of “delusion” is created with opposites. Light and dark, joy and sorrow, love and hate. Why? Because in order to experience light, there must be darkness. If all there was is light, then it would be impossible to experience it.

Virtually every master has said the same thing, but perhaps in different words; don’t take life so seriously. Learn to enjoy it. Don’t get so caught up in the “bad” things that you forget that none of this is real.

Arisu (Alice) is a young man who finds himself transported into another world, or another reality. Everyone has suddenly vanished except for himself and his two best friends. Tokyo appears empty of nearly all of its inhabitants. He quickly learns that he must play and clear games in order to survive. Failure to participate in a game within a certain time means automatic death. Clearing a game grants the victor a visa, in which the participant is given three days of a reprieve before another game must be played.

All games are based upon the classic playing cards with each suit and number designating the type of game (teamwork, deathmatch, betrayal, etc.) and its difficulty level (2, 3, 4, etc.).

The games alone are fascinating as we see participants stripped away of their morals and idealism in order to simply survive. We see people quickly betraying others. We see people so distraught by the pain and anguish that they simply give up, preferring death to any more “suffering.” And, of course, we see those rare few, that despite being knocked down and tempted with giving up, strive to continue in order to find out what this whole thing is all about. Arisu is such a person.

Arisu soon meets Usagi (Rabbit). At first, they form an uneasy alliance, and soon a friendship develops. Arisu is the idealist. He’s the person, despite making mistakes, refuses to give up. He’s a young man who had absolutely no direction in his life. He spent his days playing video games and hanging out with his two best friends. His father and brother are clearly disappointed in him for lounging around the apartment all day and doing nothing. However, Arisu is not without asking questions to the big picture. What is life? Why are we here? And as the game begins taking the lives of his friends and comrades, he even asks deeper questions such as, “Why am I alive?” Anyone who has suffered tremendous pain or suffering has asked this question.

Usagi represents the escape; the person who can only remember the pain of the “real world” and has no desire to return to it. What’s the point of “waking up” if all there is is more suffering? To Arisu’s surprise, she confesses that she prefers the “game” world, despite the horrors of mass murdering, betrayal, and constant threat of death at every turn. If you think this is pessimistic and having a quitter’s mindset, ask yourself why there are so many people in the world who prefer pain and suffering to the unknown? To the possibility that there just might be a way out? In short, Usagi is the person who prefers her comfort zone; her security and has no reason to stray beyond it.

Arisu and Usagi seem to find a community (church or religion) called “The Beach” in which people seem to be enjoying themselves in relative safety. However, not everything is as it seems. You must “follow the rules” or be designated a “traitor” and possibly killed. It’s lead by people who set up these arbitrary rules on how to live. Many of its inhabitants seek only refuge or pleasure. Others believe they can find a way to beat the game. The Beach represents the dangers of allowing anyone else to tell you how to live your life. It represents the dangers of giving power to the blind; to those who have no idea how “get out.” And because all religions are self-serving, the Beach is soon destroyed from within.

Season 2 sees Arisu and Usagi attempting to clear the most difficult games: the face cards. Some of the games employ the use of logic, trust, or simply mere survival (in the case of the King of Spades). Ironically, the last challenge to overcome is from the Queen of Hearts herself. She represents false love/hope that asks you to simply give in to a game which mirrors Lucifer’s own ideal; that it’s better to be a king in hell than a servant in heaven. However, before her demise, the Queen of Hearts smiles and gives Arisu a heartfelt reminder: life is choice. There is no “right” or “wrong” choice as there are always consequences no matter what you choose.

The final episode is a pure work of metaphysical art. It attempts to give an explanation where no explanation will suffice. It demonstrates that an attempt to understand the world through intellect alone will always lead to oblivion. We get so caught up in the world that we forget that it’s just an illusion; a creation of our own making. And perhaps that is why the most powerful message, and reminder, is the last shot of the season as a table with playing cards are swept away—all except for one which sits proudly in the middle of the table endeavoring for us to laugh at the joy and absurdity of it all: the Joker.

To the master, the universe is a playground. Much like this series depicts, it’s like entering a cosmic amusement park. To the unawakened, the dangers and pleasures seem real and they go round and round until they’ve had enough; to where they feel compelled to try and “wake up.” To the awakened, it’s simply to be enjoyed, both “good” and “evil” because in truth, neither one exists. They are mere fabrications on the cosmic motion picture of shadow and light.

Performances across the board are first-rate. We find ourselves getting attached to one or more characters, wondering who will “survive” and who will “die.” We see humanity’s beauty on full display, from acts of love and bravery to acts of insanity, brutality, and cowardice. The series makes no apologies for its depictions, nor should it. Stripped away, with nowhere to hide, we see people at their highest and their lowest.

This isn’t an easy series to watch either, as the violence is very extreme, so if you’re a bit skittish, you may want to avoid this series; unless you can understand that this is nothing more than a game. It isn’t real. Paramahansa Yogananda took some nuns to see a violent western. The nun sitting next to him covered her face with her hands because the violence was too much for her. He gently pulled her arms down and said, “Watch. Don’t get so caught up in it. None of it’s real.”

This is a series that could easily be the topic of discussion in any university class from psychology or philosophy to religious studies or any class having to do with human behavior. Yes, it is that profound, and by the time the series ends, you just might find yourself laughing along with the Joker, realizing that you were caught up in something and then realizing that none of it was real. So, enjoy!

Leia Mais

Doberman Bites and Doesn't Let Go!

Military Prosecutor Doberman is a fun ride that navigates through both corporate and military corruption. This isn’t something new, as we’ve seen plenty of stories with this combination, but this series certainly brings a new sense of style, combining drama, comedy, and thriller genres.

Captain Doh Bae Man (can’t believe it took me a whole episode to get his name connection!) is a military prosecutor who was orphaned at a young age when his parents (both military prosecutors) were killed in a car accident (of course, it wasn’t an accident). So many people in K-dramas are killed involving a vehicle, that it’s tantamount to the number of Americans in American series killed by gunshots!

Doh Bae Man is initially a self-serving prosecutor who uses the power of his position to put money into his pockets. As far as he’s concerned, nothing else matters. Suffering from memory loss, he doesn’t recall the details of the accident that took his parents’ lives. On the side, he works for Yong Moon Goo, then head of a prestigious law firm who promises a high position in any law firm that Doh Bae Man wishes as soon as he’s discharged. In exchange for handling (or in Doh Bae Man’s case) mishandling cases, he’s given boxes full of cash from Yong Moon Goo.

Little does Doh Bae Man realize that there is something sinister going on around him at the military base he’s assigned with General Noh Hwa Young being in the center of it all. He also doesn’t realize that there is a connection between the general and the death’s of his parents. It isn’t until Captain Cha Woo In is assigned to his office that she nudges him to start connecting the dots.

Cha Woo In also has a dark past with General Noh Hwa Young, as the general also ordered the death of her father in order to take over his company, IM Defense Industries, which was a major player in signing contractual deals with the military. However, General Noh Hwa Young isn’t just about gaining money, but power. As part of a secret society of high-ranking military officials who all wish to nudge Korea into a future that they want, Noh Hwa Young wants to be the top-dog. She has a spoiled cowardly son in Noh Tae Nam whom she wants to complete his military service.

We see corruption at its lowest as General Noh Hwa Young skillfully manipulates and removes anyone or any obstacle that gets in her way. She’s frightening enough to make any military official quake in their boots, and Oh Yeon Soo, does a fantastic job with the role, ensuring that Noh Hwa Young is a very cool, calculating person who should never be underestimated. Too often, we’ve seen men assume these types of roles, so it’s incredibly refreshing to see a woman take on the role of chief villainess.

As Cha Woo In helps Doh Bae Man peel back the layers of corruption as well as his own lost memories, Doh Bae Man begins to change. He realizes that he’s also been used by Yong Moon Go, and that it is finally time for him to utilize his office for which it was intended: to carry out justice.

Doh Bae Man is an extremely intelligent prosecutor who is a master of manipulation and seeing things that nobody else is able to see. He’s a bit reckless sometimes, but too often, we see how he’s the mastermind behind so many amazing plans. Ahn Bo Hyun is fantastic as the confident, often arrogant Doh Bae Man who flashes his boyish charm to manipulate witnesses or convicts into doing what he needs them to do.

Cha Woo In is more level-headed and less emotional than her counterpart. Aside from being an absolute master of hand-to-hand combat, she’s smart enough to allow Doh Bae Man to regain his memories on his own rather than simply tell him. She knows that it’s far more effective for him to do it this way. However, Cha Woo In doesn’t have Doh Bae Man’s gift for seeing the “bigger picture” and doing what is necessary to carry out their plan. At first, this makes her a bit of a “weak link” in the courtroom, until she begins to understand what’s going on. She tends to be a bit too naïve and trusting where being cautious and calculating is far more prudent. In short, these two make a fantastic one-two punch team as they begin to learn from each other and how to use each other’s tactics.

Kim Young Min is probably my favorite actor of this series as the very cool and highly intelligent Yong Moon Goo. I tend to prefer villains who show their prowess with intelligence rather than with brawn or ridiculous, over-the-top outbursts. While he isn’t immune to revealing his frustrations, we see just how formidable he is, and as a viewer, we wonder who will win out: Yong Moon Goo or Noh Hwa Young? The high-powered lawyer or the high-ranking general?

The series only has a few minor problems. First, is Cha Woo In going around a red wig as a vigilante. This was almost as laughable as Clark Kent hiding his Superman disguise with a pair of glasses. So many people who know Cha Woo In, fail to recognize her simply due to a red wig. Had she kept her sunglasses on, it would have worked. This ended up going way too far.

Next, we have too many actors—who are supposed to be military generals—not acting like military generals at all. They have no esteem or presence as a military general would. Only Noh Hwa Young is the exception. The worst is easily General Heo Gang In, who acts more like a bumbling, inept fool. He’s so bad that he’s not even believable as a military person at all. Jung In Ki’s interpretation was an especially poor one and completely unbelievable.

Finally, the level of bullying that seems to emanate at all levels of the Korean military makes anyone wonder how in the world the Korean military can function at all. We hardly ever even see soldiers on duty. They’re all playing sports, loafing around in their barracks, and having free reign to come and go as they please. Given that corruption was from the very bottom all the way to the very top was just too much. I understand that the writers probably wanted to do their best to expose this type of corruption, but for this story, it was a bit too much. It was overkill.

Still, don’t let these minor issues fool you. This is a solid series with something for everyone. The plot twists themselves will likely have you guessing what’s really going on. I was also tremendously relieved that the series didn’t get sidetracked with a silly romantic storyline that would have pulled everything off course. They saved the one kiss for the end. We knew there was something between Doh Bae Man and Cha Woo In. There was no need to go any further than that, especially when their focus (their goal) was on the case. Just like a Doberman, this series is likely to bite you and not let go until the very end!

Leia Mais

Why Autopsies Are So Necessary!

This is a fascinating look into the jobs of coroners and forensic scientists in Japan, where the fewest amount of autopsies are recorded of all developed countries in the world. Most deaths reported as "accidental" or by "natural causes" are never autopsied, thus leaving the door wide open for murderers. You can't help but speculate how my deaths might be attributed to murder. Most bodies are cremated before they can ever reach an autopsy table, and there are many hurdles that must be jumped through, such as getting family consent.

Misumi Mikoto is the idealist coroner who firmly believes that her job brings piece of mind as well as closure and truth to the cases she works on. She works at UDI (Unnatural Death Investigations), a company subsidized by the government. They don't necessarily work on police cases but as a private company that is paid by people who want further investigations done. She is the #2 coroner with a troubled past. While her job doesn't pay much, she's very good at what she does. She also tends to wear her heart on her sleeve.

Mr. Nakado is the #1 coroner of the group, and we find out that he's been suffering in anguish for over 8 years since his girlfriend was found dead in a scrap pile. He somehow performed the autopsy himself (not sure how anyone would be able to do that). After finding a "goldfish" imprint inside of her mouth, he firmly believes his girlfriend was murdered and possibly by a serial killer. He tries to check every body he can find for the same "goldfish" evidence with the hope of catching the killer. He barks at everyone, and is notoriously renowned for calling people, "stupid." He's incredibly smart and gifted despite his sour demeanor. He reminds me a little bit of Dr. House.

Finally, we have Kube Rokuro who is the new part-timer, who has a desire to be a forensic doctor. However, we quickly find that he's working at UDI under false pretenses (selling the secrets and stories of what happens at UDI) to a local newspaper, which acts more like a tabloid. However, after finding himself engrossed in the job as well as being smitten with Dr. Mikoto, we begin to wonder how Rokuro will be able to get out of his dilemma, if at all.

The series is an important one. Japan is a generally peaceful country where people try their best to live in harmony. They don't like to "rock the boat" and will do nearly anything to maintain that harmony, even it means avoiding any kind of confrontation. However, true harmony can never be achieved by turning your back to what is going on; by avoiding confrontation. How can harmony be experienced at the expense of others? It can't be. It's an impossibility, and this is largely the reason why this show exists. With only 170 coroners in Japan, they're desperately trying to get more as well as to change the government policies surrounding autopsies and why they are so vitally important.

While the serial killer story was a fascinating one, my favorite episode was actually the bullying, or as the boy rightfully called it, "Death by Bullying." This was an especially powerful episode that brings a world-wide problem to the forefront. The UDI group race to solve the "murder" of a young high school teen in order to prevent the death of another. However, we quickly find that nothing is as it seems, and the school as well as the other students involved, realize their horrible mistake; allowing the bullying to happen. Yes, where bullying takes place, everyone is involved, and everyone is responsible. I truly hope people take this episode to heart.

There was only one season of this fantastic show, which is easily better than any "CSI" series I've seen, and should be given more seasons. I sure hope a second season is in the works! Not only is the science fascinating but you gotta love the people of UDI!

Leia Mais

For the Love Of An Angel!

All in all, this is an exquisite story about love, loss, sacrifice, and forgiveness as an angel finds himself in love with a woman and whether or not a love such as theirs is even possible. This lends much of the intrigue to the story about how an angelic being can condescend to human love, or if it is even possible.

Despite the fact that much of ideals and beliefs surrounding “God” and “angels” is medieval and extremely primitive, the story still manages to work, as long as you can suspend your disbelief. The best series I’ve ever seen about angels is “Highway to Heaven,” a landmark American series that saw angel, Jonathan Smith, going around trying to spread a little love and life on his missions.

This series is very “Old Testament.” We have a vengeful, jealous “God” who demands obedience and who has no problem exacting punishments. Only a person with ego, who creates a “God” in his/her own image, could ever possibly conceive of a “God” filled with human ego. This is another reason why “God” can never be found or understood through books and scriptures—books and scriptures that were written by men. However, for the purpose of this story, you have to allow yourself some leeway, knowing that God, Herself, is getting a serious kick out of this interpretation!

Angel Kim Dan is given a mission—a last mission—for interfering in human affairs by saving a human woman, Lee Yeon Seo. He’s given exactly 100 days to help her find love, or risk oblivion. The first handful of episodes are highly comedic, as we quickly find that Lee Yeon Seo is a rich, spoiled, conceited brat who is colder than glaciers! She barks at her house staff and doesn’t seem to have a shred of happiness. Part of the problem is that her eyesight was taken in a show where she performs as a ballerina—one of the absolute best in the business, due to her ability to bring tremendous feeling into her performances.

As always, there’s far more that’s going on than meets the eye, as we quickly find out that Lee Yeon Seo’s twisted aunt is plotting to take the “Fantasia Ballet Company” away from her. Little do either of them know that her aunt’s sociopathic daughter, Geum Ru Na is plotting something far darker and more sinister!

Not only is Kim Dan trying his best to eek out a morsel of feeling from the cold Yeon Seo, but he’s also having to protect her from her crazed family members. On top of that, we have Ji Kang Woo, the new artistic director for the ballet company who brings his own tragic past with him. Ji Kang Woo is a fallen angel who was condemned to live as a human being after the loss of a human woman who looks remarkably like Yeon Seo. Of course, he quickly becomes obsessed with Yeon Seo, as well as bringing his bitterness and anger to bear against “God” and all of the angels. As soon as he finds out the truth about Kim Dan, their rivalry heats up, and Ji Kang Woo does everything to try to convince Yeon Seo that a life with Kim Dan is impossible.

The first half of the series plays out much like the “Taming of the Shrew” in which Kim Dan is constantly trying to find some way to like a fire under the ice princess. Of course, it becomes apparent that they are in love with each other, after a few “back and forth” scenarios. You know the kind I’m talking about. She confesses her feelings. He flees. He confesses his feelings, and she stays…until she finds out that he’s an angel, and then she tries to flee (despite the fact that literally saves her life and doesn’t even get a shred of gratitude for it!).

The last four episodes or so are pure gold as Kim Dan races to find a way to become human, and Yeon Seo also finds herself on her knees in a church begging, demanding, and pleading for something to be done. Neither refuses to let go of the other, and neither will allow the other to be sacrificed so that the other may live.

At one point, Kim Dan is told that it’s a sin for an angel to love a human. I couldn’t help laughing at the sheer absurdity of such a statement. Angels are all about love! And by the time the series ends, it becomes painfully obvious that Kim Dan succeeded in his mission: Yeon Seo has, indeed, found out what it means to love, and Kim Dan also finds out the joy of loving someone as well. A sin? The only “sin” is suggesting that this is in any way, a sin. It’s amazing how often people attempt to make something wonderful and loving into something bad and impure.

There’s a sweet backstory that was especially poignant, in which we find out that Kim Dan was actually Yeon Seo’s childhood friend, and that he died trying to escape his abusive father. Yeon Seo is heartbroken when she finds out, as she’d always hoped that he was alive somewhere—completely unaware that Kim Dan is that soul.

I’ve said it in so many reviews, but it has to be said again: Shin Hye Sun is simply a marvel to watch. This woman has such range—she can take on any part and make it her own. This is the first time I’ve seen her play a cold, spiteful woman, but man, she nailed it! And then, just like a light switch, we see just how easily she taps into the reservoir of love and feeling. Her emotions are so powerful and heartfelt, that you feel them as the viewer.

I must say that Kim Myung Soo (Kim Dan) was her equal. Playing the playful, light-hearted angel to tapping into those baser, human emotions, and dealing with potential loss easily matched Shin Hye Sun’s. Perhaps that is why their chemistry was unmistakable and why it worked so well. I think I could have easily watched these two for another ten episodes.

I especially enjoyed the fact that this relationship was balanced. None of these silly mind games, or one chasing the other while giggling and saying, “No, don’t!” when they don’t mean it. No parental interventions either. It doesn’t happen often enough in K-dramas where two adults can simply love and show their affections. It was more refreshing than I can say, and I was very grateful for it.

I’ve always enjoyed the ballet, and I wish I’ve seen more performances than I have, but I also loved the music and dancing in this series as well. It truly is a magnificent art form that doesn’t get as much notoriety as it deserves.

If you’re looking for a series that feels like cuddling up with a loved one on a cold night in front of a fireplace, then this series should definitely work for you!

Leia Mais

Angels Among Us

What happens when a gifted heart surgeon is devoid of empathy and feeling? He becomes a robot; a man who builds walls around himself to avoid feeling much of anything. This is part of the premise of this series in which Dr. Cha Young Min has forgotten the important part of being a doctor: caring and being there for the patient. It doesn’t matter how amazing your skills are. A doctor without feelings is truly no doctor at all.

Dr. Cha Young Min finds himself having to relearn this lesson when a car accident puts him into a coma. Before the incident, he’s cold and surly toward everyone, especially the new young intern, Dr. Ko Seung Tak as well as his ex-girlfriend, Dr. Jang Se Jin. He doesn’t approve of Dr. Ko’s lack of interest in his job. While Dr. Ko doesn’t seem interested in the least in learning about being a doctor, he does seem to care a great deal about the patients, especially those in the coma wing. And Dr. Cha still doesn’t understand why Dr. Jang returned from America after leaving him suddenly, nor does he care to find out.

We find out early on that Dr. Ko has a special gift as well. He’s able to see ghosts. Not only is he able to see them, but he can also communicate and interact with them. This is an ability he seems to have had since he was a child. Of course, he does his very best to hide it, but when Dr. Cha appears as a coma ghost, he realizes that his only link to the real world is Dr. Ko. Thus begins an unlikely friendship that begins tenuously at best. Why? Because we also find out that Dr. Cha is able to possess the body of Dr. Ko.

This sets up a fascinating premise as well as an often funny one, in which Dr. Cha utilizes Dr. Ko’s body in order to perform the most complex surgeries. This brings instant notoriety from the senior staff as well as the administration as to how he’s able to do this. After all, they only see Dr. Ko suddenly doing surgeries that even the most senior members are unable to do—except for Dr. Cha who is revered as the hospital’s best and most gifted surgeon.

Interestingly enough, Dr. Ko has no recollection of what happens once Dr. Cha takes over. Initially, he’s understandably upset and even forbids Dr. Cha from doing it again, but soon Dr. Ko finds himself realizing what can be done for the patients, not to mention his growing fame. Never mind that the hospital staff is left completely puzzled at how a mere intern is suddenly able to perform these surgeries. They chalk it up to Dr. Ko being like Dr. Cha: blessed with unprecedented skill. It’s here that partnership is formed between the two doctors.

Meanwhile, we find that there’s more to Dr. Cha’s accident than meets the eye, and there is also a conspiracy operating within the hospital as the Dr. Ko’s cousin, and hospital administrator, is looking to gain more power and money for himself, and Dr. Cha is in his way. Dr. Jang regrets leaving Dr. Cha the first time around, and she creates a private room where she can look after him 24 hours a day.

Dr. Cha is able to move around the hospital, but he’s limited due to the distance between himself and his body. If he finds himself too far away, he begins to fade away into oblivion which would also lead to the death of his body. He’s able to use his spirit form to find out just how indifferent and cold he’s been to nearly everyone, and he vows to be a different man should he ever regain consciousness. He’s heartbroken to see how much Dr. Jang has always loved him, and her leaving him for America those many years ago had nothing to do with him as she finds herself in the middle of her own power struggle with her mobster bully of a half-brother who’s trying to take their father’s fortune by whatever means necessary.

We quickly find that there are the ghosts of several other coma patients wandering around the hospital, as well as that of a long-since passed surgeon who simply goes by the name of “Tess.” He has a connection to one of the other doctors and finds himself unable to leave the hospital. Unlike Dr. Cha, he’s able to possess anyone at any moment, obviously learning how to master this feat in order to help others. He also has the wisdom that both Dr. Cha and Dr. Ko lack. Dr. Cha needs to remember how to be a caring surgeon again, and Dr. Ko has to learn how to be a proper surgeon by studying and taking the job seriously.

The series is very light in its overall tone. The true brilliance of the story lies in the chemistry and friendship that develops between Dr. Cha and Dr. Ko. Rain and Kim Bum give fantastic performances. You can tell that they had a lot of fun with their roles! Their light banter and bickering also provide a lot of fun and humorous interactions between them. However, as with so many great K-dramas, there are also plenty of heartfelt and touching moments between the two as well. Add Dr. Jang, beautifully played by Uee, and Dr. Oh Soo Jung, who has an obvious crush on Dr. Ko, and you have the perfect scenario for some fun and light romance.

Tess, however, is my favorite character of the series. He’s like a wise sage who wanders around the hospital with a glint in his eye, seeking small things to try and help or fix. He only interferes when he absolutely has to, as he also understands the importance of not imposing himself upon the human condition. He knows that, for some people, it’s simply their time to go. He also has a beautiful connection with Dr. Ko’s past as well. While compassionate, he also has no problem treating Dr. Cha and Dr. Ko like the two petulant children that they are sometimes.

There are no contrived plot elements or silly, immature romantic triangles in this series. The premise that we can all strive to be better people, and even skilled people like doctors, often need such a reminder. Take your job and your passion seriously, but never leave out the human element. Both are necessary, like two sides of the same coin. And most importantly, let people do what they want in life. Stop imposing your will upon someone else. When you do that, it’s selfishly only about you and not the other person.

It doesn’t matter if you believe in ghosts or not. It doesn’t matter if you believe in angels or not, but it certainly warms the heart to know that perhaps your friends and loved ones are in your corner and helping you out in ways you couldn’t possibly believe or fathom. And what’s wrong with that?

Leia Mais

Terrible Writing, Acting, Directing and Story...So, What Is There to Like?

“I Hear Your Voice” is a series that never seems to be able to figure out what it wants to be. Unfortunately, this becomes even true of the characters, who don’t know who they want to be either. The writer took many liberties for this story, even going so far as to make up things just to make the story work. This is one of the cardinal “sins” of writing. Always write about what you know. And never change a character for the sake of the plot.

Many K-Dramas successfully blend various genres such as comedy, drama, romance, and even thriller-aspects. Most of the series I’ve watched do this extremely well. This is one of the few series that does this very badly. It uses comedy when something isn’t funny. It uses romance when things are cheesy and not even romantic, and it completely undervalues the killer of the story, causing him to tap-dance around in order to prolong his presence in the series for no real reason. At first, he seeks to kill. Suddenly, he completely changes tactics and wants to be understood. I've never even read about REAL killers doing things like this!

We also have some of the absolute worst acting performances from an ensemble cast that I’ve seen in a very, very long time. Everything from hamming up scenes to overacting, to being completely disingenuous are just a few of the major mistakes this cast makes. Usually, it’s only one or maybe two actors who are weak. In this series, only one or two actors are actually strong and believable.

The story is an intriguing one in which Park Soo Ha and Jang Hye Sung are brought together one fateful night when Min Joon Kook slams into Park Soo Ha’s car and proceeds to brutally murder Park Soo Ha’s father right in front of him. Park Soo Ha himself was about to be killed as well until a young Jang Hye Sung witnesses the crime and proceeds to take photos and be a witness to the crime. This brings about an ominous threat from Min Joon Kook who swears revenge upon Park Soo Ha and Jang Hye Sung, whom he attempts to strangle to death in the courtroom.

Years later, Park Soo Ha is a high school senior who has never forgotten Jang Hye Sung and what she did for him. It’s also obvious that he’s very smitten with her. Park Soo Ha is also a young man capable of reading people’s thoughts. Obviously, this can be very unnerving for anyone who knows of his ability. He trains hard in fighting, knowing that one day, Min Joon Kook is likely to come looking for him as well as Jang Hye Sung. Coming across her, he begins to follow her, especially after learning that Min Joon Kook has been released from prison on “good behavior.”

Jang Hye Sung becomes a public defender. Not because she feels any sense of responsibility, but because she feels she can do the job. And “doing the job” entails lazily arguing for a lighter sentence. She never believes her client and simply feels that her only “duty” is to get a reduced sentence for them. She’s incredibly immature, conceited, and believes that the whole world revolves around her. She’s vain and has no problem showboating when she’s defeated anyone in court. If something goes wrong, it’s always the other person’s fault. She loves playing the victim. If someone lies, she holds a grudge. If she lies, she feels justified. She’s a true hypocrite in every sense of the word. There isn’t much that’s likable about Jang Hye Sung.

Cha Kwan Woo is a mousy, sheepish man who’s dropped out of the police force in order to become a public defender. He seems to have high values despite being a very wishy-washy shell of a man. He constantly looks as though he’s on the verge of tears, and he’s immediately infatuated with Jang Hye Sung. A real head-scratcher is why anyone would be enamored with Jang Hye Sung! And we’ve got an absolutely ludicrous triangle involving these three characters, when none of them are worth it.

There are some serious plot problems in this series. At one point, Cha Kwan Woo feels compelled to defend Min Joon Kook when he’s caught for murdering Jang Hye Sung’s mother. Of course, Min Joon Kook comes up with a ridiculous story, and Cha Kwan Woo buys it. The real problem, however, is that at this point in the story, Cha Kwan Woo is dating Jang Hye Sung. And yet, at no point, is a “conflict of interest” raised by anyone! Mr. Shin, the veteran of the public defenders, cowardly removes himself from consideration rather than realizing that it’s his job to take the case. Of course, Cha Kwan Woo is so gullible, one has to figure out how this man could ever be a public defender, let alone a police officer. He also has zero police skills! At one point, he sneaks up on Min Joon Kook to capture him—from the side! Anyone with peripheral vision (and supposed police training) would never do that!

Another ridiculous point in the story is that Min Joon Kook cuts off his own left hand—with a 15cm knife! I’m not sure the writer had any notion of just how painful and difficult it would be for anyone to try and cut off their own hand with such a blade. They try to justify it with a pitiful demonstration that nobody with a brain would ever buy!

At one point, when Min Joon Kook is suspected of being murdered by Park Soo Ha, a witness claims to have seen Park Soo Ha, and yet nobody goes out to speak with the witness or even bring the witness to court until nearly after the fact. Talk about lawyers not doing their job! I had no idea they were so incompetent.

We have judges who roll their eyes and show emotion in court (something judges are not allowed to do!) during testimonies. We also have jurors who constantly nod their heads at every, single thing. I’ve served on juries. Jurors don’t do that, and certainly not all of them at the same time!

The courtroom scenes are just about the worst I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot in movies and TV shows. It all played out like a bad soap opera by directors and writers who haven’t a clue what really goes on in a courtroom and what court proceedings and protocols look like. I especially laughed at Jang Hye Sung wearing miniskirts to court. Somehow, I don’t think a judge would allow that kind of attire.

This is the first series I’ve seen with Lee Bo Young, and she is just plain awful. She can’t seem to find the fine line between being comedic or being dramatic. I understand that her character is supposed to be haughty, but she comes across like a spoiled high school prom-queen, constantly flipping her hair and giving snide remarks. In short, she’s just not believable in any aspect of her character. She’s absolutely clueless. She also has zero chemistry with anyone in the series. She reminded me of Denise Richards, one of the worst American actresses (or any actress!).

Yoon Sang Hyun (Cha Kwan Woo) is almost as bad. He often says his lines with a wooden expression as though he’s reciting a poem in front of a school class. I understand that his character likes Jang Hye Sung, but acting like a 15-year-old milksop is hardly the way to endear the viewer. He’s simply pathetic despite his ideals as a lawyer being very noble.

This is the second series I’ve seen with Lee Jong Suk (first being “Hymn of Death”). He’s easily the strongest of these three. He reminds us that his character is a good six or seven years younger than Jang Hye Sung, but he also comes across as easily the most mature of the three. While he’s prone to losing his temper, he’s also the most levelheaded. However, his age and lack of world experience prove to be his weaknesses. Lee Jong Suk juggled this complex character rather well.

I’ve seen Jung Woong In (Min Joon Kook) in a number of series. He’s good a playing the villain or the antagonist. However, he really hammed up and overacted his role in this series as he was obviously trying to find the line between a sadistic killer and a sympathetic victim. He’s prone to shouting way too much—especially when his character wouldn’t—and spewing ridiculous nonsense in his tirades. I would have preferred a calmer and cooler killer who revels in his intelligence rather than some madman.

Yoon Joo Sang (Mr. Shin) and Kim Hae Sook (Jang Hye Sung’s mother) were easily my favorite performers of the series. We had some peripheral characters, such as Park Soo Ha’s high school companions, who brought absolutely nothing to the story. I had a hard time figuring out if Kim Choong Ki was his friend or not, since they were constantly engaging in fist fights. So much for being friends.

The writer was clearly making it up as you go along without any notion or idea about how things actually work in the real world much less the courtroom. Perhaps the writer watched too many dramas and thought, “Hey, I can do this!” Wrong.

The music was equally bad, playing light, fluffy songs at points when something dark and sinister was about to happen. That made no sense either. The series failed as a romance, failed as a comedy, and only barely stayed afloat as a thriller. This “ship” should have been sunk before it ever left port.

Leia Mais

A Good Series That Should Have Been Great!

“Healer” kicks off like a massive thunderstorm, and by the time it ends, it’s just a gentle rain, which left me to wonder, “What the heck happened?”

Seo Jung Hoo is a man in his late twenties who is basically a sort of “hero for hire.” He has fancy gadgets supplied by his hacker partner, Jo Min-Ja. He’s hired to do any job except for murder A master at hand-to-hand combat as well as being able to evade pursuit and detection, he’s sort of a cross between Ethan Hunt and Jason Bourne. Little does Seo Jung Hoo realize that he’s soon thrown into job that takes him back to his own origins from 20 years ago.

Chae Yeong Shin is a novice reporter working for an online tabloid news company. She’s tenacious when it comes to tracking down a story, but other than that, she has no real journalistic skills at all. This is coupled by the fact that she gets severe panic attacks whenever she’s in a violent situation; attacks that incapacitate her. Of course, why she never suffers an attack during her first confrontation with Seo Jung Hoo is never explained, even when he threatens to harm her if she resists. She, too, has a tie to 20 years ago.

Finally, we have Kim Moon Ho who is Korea’s most famous journalist. He’s nothing short of a celebrity, but thanks to Seo Jung Hoo and Chae Yeong Shin, he is quickly immersed in a massive cover-up that involves his brother and their friends from 20 years ago. Kim Moon Ho is the only one who knows Chae Yeong Shin’s true connection to his brother’s wife (who is Chae Yeong Shin’s mother who believes her daughter to be dead). This sets the stage for a sort of “David vs. Goliath” showdown in which our three protagonists struggle to uncover the truth, who is pulling the strings, as well as trying to stay alive in the process!

While this all sounds intriguing, and for the first twelve episodes or so, it is, but suddenly, there are just way too many plot holes to plug up by the final episode. It lacks the tautness both of story and character that were present in such thrillers as “Vincenzo” and “Stranger.” In those series, the writers and actors knew their characters backwards and forwards. If only “Healer” could have been done with the same attention to detail, this may have been a very different series.

As you may expect, Chae Yeong Shin is like a 7th rate Lois Lane. She soon finds herself falling for the mysterious Seo Jung Hoo, especially after he saves her (fairly typical of nearly every superhero movie ever made!). She’s soon behaving much like a swooning 18-year-old. Min Young Park seems to try her best to keep a handle on her character, but too often, she goes from a journalist with some degree of professionalism to a shy, don’t touch me in front of my father, little girl. Korea is a somewhat conservative country, at least when it comes to K-dramas. Their movies are something else entirely! I guess they want you to believe that Korean women are still innocent and the property of their families. When Chae Yeong Shin tells Seo Jung Hoo that he needs her father’s approval to date (after they’ve already spent the night together!), I cringed. Is this 1950 all of a sudden?! A late twenties woman hasn’t the guts to speak for herself. Wow!

There were a lot of key missing conversations that never took place in the series that had me scratching my head. At one point, Seo Jung Hoo is overwhelmed by the death of his master. Chae Yeong Shin finds his lair and attempts to help. She never asks him why he secluded himself. So much for journalistic attributes to say nothing about someone simply showing concern. Ever after she finds out about his true identity, there’s no real conversation about it.

At one point, Seo Jung Hoo runs off to help his mother who is in danger. He’s operating in the guise of Bong Su Park, who works undercover with Chae Yeong Shin. Chae Yeong Shin finds him unconscious on the rooftop. Bong Su is a bit of a coward, and yet Chae Yeong Shin never asks why he ran off in the first place after he recovers.

Chae Yeong Shin also seems to have strange mood swings. She’s upset one moment and then she’s suddenly okay. I’ve never seen characters with such speedy recoveries in my life! In one scene, she’s nearly catatonic, and by the time Seo Jung Hoo reaches the first floor of the coffee shop where she lives, she comes bounding down the stairs with a smile on her face as though nothing had happened. I wondered if she was bi-polar!

I also found it strange when Seo Jung Hoo is set up for a murder rap, and Chae Yeong Shin sees him covered in blood, she’s initially shocked until he runs off. She never once attempts to contact him. It isn’t until a couple of days later that she finally asks if he’s ever killed anyone. So much for trust and faith, eh?

Seo Jung Hoo is a man who is in tremendous shape, literally scaling buildings and running across rooftops. He and Chae Yeong Shin stupidly decide to try and have a “normal” life, despite the fact that there has been NO resolution to their situation. Suddenly, Seo Jung Hoo is sleepy and seems to have no energy in the office workplace. Give me a break! A guy in that kind of shape is suddenly struggling to stay awake?! Even after he’s already been working those hours as Bong Su? This wasn’t just laughable. It was absolutely ludicrous! It was bad enough that someone of Seo Jung Hoo’s intelligence would suddenly decide to hang up his “cape and cowl” when the bad guys are still out there and there hasn’t been a resolution. It was an insult to the intelligence of the character as well as the viewer to buy such a cheap ploy.

I was also a little surprised that we didn’t get a final “daughter/mother” reveal between Chae Yeong Shin and her mother in the last episode. Even though it’s obvious that they both pretty much knew, I was waiting for that moment which never came.

Also, I felt that the final ploy to bring down “the Boss” at the end was a fairly cheap one. I was hoping for something bigger from “the Boss,” and a guy who seemed almost unbeatable.

Performances are pretty good in this series. Kim Mi Kyung is easily my favorite character of this series. She’s just a fantastic actress! Ji Chang Wook did a good job with what he had to work with, and Min Young Park was decent who just had too many awkward moments. One, which was at the end when Seo Jung Hoo puts out his hand to her, and Chae Yeong Shin actually hesitates to take it! Right after she does, she immediately goes into a little thing about how she can never imagine being without him. Then, why the hesitation?! It made no sense!

While the music was good, I started getting tired of the same two songs always being played after nearly every scene! The vocalizing choir really got on my nerves after just the first few episodes.

Healer is a series that was good, but it really should have been great. I know this series has very high ratings. Honestly, I guess I just don’t understand why, especially with so many problems with the script and the characters. It made zero sense not to tell Chae Yeong Shin’s mother about her daughter. You really think that kind of new would actually kill her?! If anything, it would give her some well-needed healing and hope! That was just a horrible reason!

It's sad that after 20 episodes, they still couldn’t quite get everything right. It made me wish that Hacker Jo Min Jae could have hacked into the script and done some serious editing and fixing! Now that would have been worthy of the Healer!

Leia Mais

Accepting People For Who They Are!

I’ve now seen three series with autistic characters being the subject. “It’s Okay to Not Be Okay” was the first with Oh Jung Se giving an absolutely riveting performance! The second was “Extraordinary Attorney Woo” with the incomparable Eu Bin Park. And ironically, despite this series coming out before all of them, I finally watched this one with Joo Won also giving a tremendous performance. However, that being said, “Good Doctor” is easily my least favorite of the three.

Dr. Park Shi-On is an autistic young man who aspires to become a pediatric surgeon. Growing up with a sadistically brutal father who beat him relentlessly due to his disability, he’s eventually raised by the loving Dr. Choi who is the director of Sungwon Hospital. Dr. Choi hopes to help Dr. Park fulfill his dream; a dream he made after watching his older brother die in an accident in a mine.

Dr. Park has many obstacles to overcome, not the least of which are prejudice and discrimination, not only among his own colleagues but among parents too. Because of his persistence, he doesn’t give up and finds solace it the little souls of the pediatric ward who really don’t see him as anything other than a person. A slightly strange person, perhaps, but as a person nonetheless. Such is having the eyes of a child and seeing the world that way. Guilt, shame, and prejudice are all learned behaviors.

The first seven or eight episodes are tough to wade through as we see Dr. Park taking constant verbal abuse, especially from his mentor and superior, Dr. Kim Do Han and his chief assistant, Dr. Cha Yoon Su. Dr. Kim goes so far as to punch Dr. Park after a surgery. What is ironic is that Dr. Kim had a younger brother with autism, and yet he openly abuses Dr. Park without apology. If you truly think that abusive teaching methods are the best way to teach anyone, then you have no idea just how primitive and ignorant your beliefs are. Dr. Cha—in some ways—is even worse. She rebukes him with, “Stop acting like a kid!” She also physically hits him a number of times, but her even bigger “crime” is treating Dr. Park like he’s broken.

Dr. Kim justifies his treatment of Dr. Park with a strange question to Dr. Cha: “Would you rather have a great doctor how makes poor decisions or an average doctor who makes great decisions?” His point is that he wants Dr. Park to be the latter. However, his ignorance clouds his judgment as he clearly overlooks the third option to that question: Why not a great doctor who makes great decisions? That is what he should inspire Dr. Park to be. There is absolutely no justification for abuse. None. As an ESL teacher who has spent most of his career in Asian countries, I know that this isn’t something that has been completely expunged. Many teachers and even parents still firmly believe that abuse is necessary. They may not call it “abuse” but abuse it is.

Dr. Kim slowly begins to take to Dr. Park. However, during one particularly disturbing scene, Dr. Park is being beaten up by two bullies. Dr. Kim sees what is happening. He gets out of his car and walks to help Dr. Park. Walks. Not run. That was more disturbing than watching Dr. Park getting assaulted which showed just how little Dr. Kim thinks of Dr. Park.

Toward the last five episodes or so, it becomes clear that Dr. Cha is starting to develop feelings for Dr. Park, despite Dr. Park being rejected early on when he shares how he feels with her. However, Dr. Cha makes one big mistake when she goes out a blind date and finds that Dr. Park isn’t upset about it. Anyone who truly thinks that jealousy equals love doesn’t know love at all. Jealousy has absolutely nothing to do with love. Jealousy is about ego, power, fear, and control—things that love can never be. In many ways, Dr. Park proves himself to be far wiser and more mature than Dr. Cha, who frankly, has a lot of growing up to do.

The medical episodes regarding the pediatric patients were the most intriguing part of the series to me. I loved how Dr. Park could empathize and relate to them, using his own child-like purity. The surgeries were fairly well done, despite some serious flaws (such as doctors contaminating each other by touching each other in the OR which happened several times!)

However, the relationships weren’t quite as compelling to me. Dr. Park’s father is just a drunken, abusive tyrant, and it was disturbing to see how Dr. Park’s mother wilts around him, proving herself to be a very weak woman. The actor playing Dr. Park’s father was a bit too over-the-top for my taste. Barking and spewing nonsense in virtually every scene quickly became tiresome.

Quite frankly, the relationship between Dr. Cha and Dr. Park that develops toward the end of the series just didn’t feel organic or real enough. Moon Chae Won is a very good actress, but she almost seemed lost in how to make Dr. Cha actually develop romantic and loving feelings toward Dr. Park. She never says, “I like you” or even “I love you.” She only ever talks about how uncomfortable she is with Dr. Park possibly dating someone else (again, a sign of jealousy and possession; not love at all). “Extraordinary Attorney Woo” the romantic angle worked because the ML accepted and loved her for who she was; he never wanted her to change. We don’t get that same feeling from Dr. Cha who is constantly trying to get Dr. Park to change who he is. And anyone should know that whenever you enter a relationship with the hope of changing the other person, the relationship is ultimately doomed to fail. Relationships are always about the possibility of changing yourself, not the other person.

Initially, Dr. Cha obviously has a crush on Dr. Kim. It’s both sad and disturbing that she would find Dr. Kim even remotely appealing after his blatant abusive behavior toward Dr. Park. It certainly doesn’t speak well about her taste in men at all, Dr. Park notwithstanding.

We have a political power struggle doing on at the hospital which works somewhat well. In many ways, however, it just didn’t add much to the story, which should have kept its focus on Dr. Park.

In Jae was one of my favorite characters of the series; a young teenager who’s desperately in need of an intestinal transplant and her sister who is doing everything she can to raise enough money to pay for it. I loved In Jae’s interactions with Dr. Park. She clearly has a crush on him, and it’s sweet how she tries to help him navigate the minefield of “first love” when she finds out that the object of his affections is Dr. Cha.

Performances are largely very well done, with the notable exception of Jung Ho Geun (Dr. Park’s father). Standouts to me are Joo Won (Dr. Park), Kim Hyun Soo (In Jae), and Kwak Do Won (Mr. Kang), who plays the deputy director of the hospital with a calm, calculating demeanor which I found refreshing.

This medical drama also has the worst defibrillation scenes I've ever seen! The victims don't react or jump because the doctor removes the paddles during defibrillation! Sad that they couldn't even do those scenes right.

All in all, the series is good, but overall, it fell short for me, especially in some of its depictions of autistic people (which I found far more appealing in the other two series mentioned). I understand that they wanted to show how hard it would be for Dr. Park, but I found some of the scenes to be overkill and even more troubling how people continued to treat him as a broken man who needs to be fixed. If the moral of the series had been to treat people as they are and to accept their differences no matter what, then perhaps this series may have been far more inspiring than it truly was.

Leia Mais

Like Watching Kids Play "House."

You know when you’re watching a mediocre series when the first episode is better than all of those that follow it. By the time I’d reached the final three episodes, I nearly dropped the series completely. I was tired of watching these so-called “adults” acting like spoiled, immature brats, especially when they didn’t get what they wanted.

More often than not, less is more. In this case, had the series focused its energies on the business story rather than the romance, this series would have been much better, much more cohesive, and not felt like a story that an amateur writer put together piecemeal. Never mind the romance triangle (which doesn’t work at all in any case), but there are enough plot holes to drive a 18-wheeler truck through! The classic Korean series, “Misaeng” managed to keep its story focused on the four interns without needlessly deciding to add some silly romance angles.

The only relationship aspect of this series that held any interest for me was that between Mr. Han Ji Pyung and Choi Won Deok, the grandmother. There was a sweet tenderness between these two, especially as we discover that Mr. Han is resentful orphan who initially doesn’t want to be owing favors to anyone. Forget the fact that Mr. Han’s backstory is never revealed (and should have been) or why he ends up being the way he is. He’s a brilliant businessman who’s never afraid to offer true, honest criticism to anyone. He knows what happens to goldfish who decide to swim in the shark tank before they’re ready. And the story never really delves deeply into Mr. Han’s helping Grandma Choi write letters to Dal Mi, who ends up falling for more of an ideal than a real person.


The Sandbox is an intriguing place where up-and-coming inventors in the field of technology are able to showcase their abilities with the hopes of gaining funding and establishing a company. They are assigned a mentor as well as electing a CEO to lead each group. Nam Do San is a brilliant programmer, along with his two sidekicks (who do virtually nothing throughout the series but provide silly and unappealing comedy relief). It was interesting when he selected Dal Mi for his CEO rather than her sister, Won In Jae (a woman with much experience in the field). While Dal Mi ends up proving herself (with much help and assistance from Mr. Han), she later proves that she’s far more incompetent than she is being a true CEO. And her luck would have run out long ago had it not been for Mr. Han. She has no clue how to interact with those under her, and she always reacts emotionally to a situation rather than with a savvy business logic and rationale. A 50 question test does not a CEO make!

There are too many plot holes for me to list, but I will point out a few here. First, after Dal Mi finds out that Mr. Han wrote the letters and that her grandmother was the mastermind behind it, there is no conversation between Dal Mi and her grandmother about why she did it. Dal Mi is upset with Mr. Han and Nam Do San for deceiving her, but yet, no scene with her grandmother?! She would have been the first person I would have talked to!

Also, the ransomware perpetrated by the twins was so blatantly obvious that it killed any mystery regarding who was behind the act. That's never a good thing. Funny how neither of the sisters had any suspicions about them.

Sometimes, a three-year jump in the story does more harm than good, especially when the writer fails to take into consideration everything that transpires during that three-year gap. For instance, Dal Mi has an estranged relationship with her mother, who moves back in with her and her grandmother. And yet, there are no scenes showing how they’ve managed to reconcile things. There are also no scenes showing the process of reconciliation between Dal mi and her sister either! It’s like the writer was in too much of a hurry and skimmed over things. Perhaps if the silly romance had been thrown out (as it should have been!) then there would have been ample time for the more important aspects of the story.

Aside from the grandmother, we have a group of young and very immature children masquerading as adults. Dal Mi is so upset with her sister, that she feels she has to prove herself. Her sister wants to prove that she never needed her step-father’s money, and yet, she doesn’t seem to care at all about her late father or what he meant. Nam Do San is a little boy, pretending to be a “man,” crying at nearly every drop of a hat. His father is a tiger father who has Nam Do San’s life mapped out. Nam Do San is extremely immature and mistakenly puts Dal Mi at the center of his universe like a 16-year-old high school boy. What we end up with are two silly kids in a relationship that is about as appealing as watching kids in middle school.

Suzy Bae is a decent actress at best. Another big problem with the romantic angle is that Suzy Bae has absolutely no chemistry with either Nam Joo Hyuk (Nam Do San) or Kim Seon Ho (Mr. Han), and it was a headscratcher trying to figure out why a romance with either of them would work, let alone be even remotely appealing. Most of her expressions are very bland, and she certainly doesn’t have the range of many Korean actresses who are far superior in ability. I still can’t figure out why so many people are enamored with a woman who doesn’t seem to have much talent.

I can also say the same for Nam Joo Hyuk. A pretty face does not an actor make. Easily the weakest of the entire cast, Nam Joo Hyuk just looks lost half the time. Too often, he had that deer-in-the-headlights look on his face. He’d cry and then become a petty, jealous little boy in his scenes with Kim Seon Ho (a far superior actor). It felt like they picked the most popular boy and the most popular girl in high school and put them in a school play…just because they’re the most popular rather than because of any real talent.

Ultimately, this series ends up being a hot mess of contrived scenarios that would have been best left up to a fantasy writer. Not much was believable, let alone appealing, about this series. They should have hired the writer from “Misaeng” to handle this series rather than some clueless amateur. I ended up fast-forwarding through most of the final two episodes, but I was so sick of the story and the pathetic characters. Not a good sign that you’re watching a quality series. For me, “Start Up” didn’t take long to be finished, much like those groups in the first few episodes who were eliminated from the Sandbox. This series should have been eliminated from any kind of consideration as well.

Leia Mais

Don't Think. Feel!

Charlie Chaplin, in his famous speech from The Great Dictator, wisely stated, “we think too much and feel too little.” Perhaps there is nothing so powerful a tool as the mind, nor is there anything that causes so many problems. This is why Bruce Lee told his students, “Don’t think. Feel.” The mind is like a merry-go-round. All it knows how to do is think and react to everything. We all need to follow our hearts and intuition more and think less. And the biggest catalyst to getting stuck on the endless stream of thought, is playing the “what if” game.

People don’t realize that when it is a soul’s time to pass, there is nothing in the universe that can stop it. There is nothing that can be done to prevent it. It is simply that person’s time. Grief, however, is a peculiar thing. It is a necessary process toward letting go and saying goodbye, and yet it can also induce a person to come up with irrational situations and scenarios; to take responsibility and blame where none have ever existed. Hence, the danger of the “what if” game.

I remember when my father passed away in an accident. Of course, I found a reason to blame myself for it, even though I had absolutely nothing to do with it at all. It took ten years of heartache and needless suffering before I realized the truth. In many ways, I could relate to Gong Woo Jin who believes himself responsible for a horrible bus accident that he believes has killed the girl he loved 13 years ago.

Gong Woo Jin lives as a recluse, closing himself off to virtually all human contact. He often ignores others and gives very clipped responses to questions. This is what happens when a person barricades themselves within the walls of guilt. The irony is that those “walls” are mere fabrications. They only exist within our own minds, and tragically, this is where Gong Woo Jin lives.

Woo Seo Ri is a vibrant young woman who wakes up from a coma after 13 years. She was only 17 when the bus accident occurred, so in many ways, she has the mindset and maturity if a 17-year-old girl. She finds herself transported into the future where everything is different. She feels like a foreigner suddenly dropped in the middle of a city without any idea about how to function. She is very much a fish out of water.

Fortunately, Woo Seo Ri comes across Yoo Chan, who also happens to be Gong Woo Jin’s nephew, and living in the same house where Seo Ri grew up. Yoo Chan is a 17-year-old high school kid who is thoughtful, considerate, and works very hard athletically. The irony is that none of them knows how they are all connected to the past, which includes the monotonal housekeeper, Jennifer, who always has wise and profound idioms and quotes to pass along. And yet, she behaves like a robot. We also find out later why behaves this way as well as her own connection to the past.

Seo Ri spends much of her time trying to find out why her aunt and uncle abandoned her at the hospital. Gong Woo Jin is simply trying to eke out some kind of existence with a design company. Hilariously, he takes measurements of all kinds of furniture so that he can create them to scale for small models, often upsetting or causing fights with people sitting on a park bench or, in one case, seeming to take liberties with another man’s girlfriend. And Yoo Chan finds himself smitten with Seo Ri and gives him a goal: if he wins the rowing race, he’ll share his feelings with her.

This is an especially touching series that demonstrates just how dire and destructive guilt can be. Woo Jin suffers severe panic attacks when Seo Ri says or does something that reminds him of what happened on that fateful day. He is so wracked with guilt that he can’t breathe or even keep his feet without struggle. There is such sweetness in the young Woo Jin and how much he adores the 17-year-old Seo Ri, even though he hasn’t a clue of who she is, and Seo Ri wearing her best friend’s name-badge only complicates things even more.

Of course, as with so many great K-dramas, what we are shown is only half the story, and when we find out the whole truth later on, we can see how unique a person’s perspective is, but also how one perspective isn’t always the whole perspective! The reveal portion toward the end of the series is infinitely touching and we can only appreciate the enormous hurdles and obstacles these two souls had to endure in order to be together.

I’ve been a huge fan of Shin Hye Sun for a while now, but in many ways, it’s Yang Se Jong’s performance that really seals things for this series. He really makes us feel the angst and pain with his eyes and the emotions on his face. I’ll wager that it wasn’t an easy thing to do, and he does this multiple times throughout the course of the series. He is so believable that half the time, I wanted to jump through the screen to try and console him. When he finally breaks down in absolute despair as he’s confessing his supposed “crime” to Seo Ri, it feels as though his very soul is screaming in agony.

I was glad that the series focused on Seo Ri, Woo Jin, and Yoo Chan without delving or contriving some ridiculous melodrama or love-triangle. The writers kept the focus on Seo Ri trying to navigate her new world, Woo Jin struggling with his guilt, and even Yoo Chan’s experiences of a first crush. All three characters are realistic, likable, and relatable.

It was stated that when a door to happiness closes, we should be looking for another door to happiness that opens. As long as a person pursues this course, happiness will be eternally elusive. As long as you believe you must be doing something in order to be happy, you’ll never find it. And when you do find it, it will be brief and then evaporate. Socrates from “Peaceful Warrior” stated, “Most of the world shares your pain. When you don’t get what you want, you suffer. And even when you get exactly what you want, you still suffer, because you can’t hold onto it forever.” The key is to BE happy. When you are able to be happy—which exists only in the moment—then any outer situation will have no power over you; it will never be able to quell that happiness that you already are. You have to BE happy, not DO happy.

And this is why Bruce Lee said, “Don’t think. Feel.” Happiness can, and never will, exist in the mind. It can only be felt and experienced within. And when you can make choices and decisions from a place of “being” you will be surprised to find that the whole world suddenly opens up around you.

13 years of suffering is what Seo Ri and Woo Jin had to undergo because of too much thinking and not enough feeling. Remember that pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional. And we must all try our very best not to get on the “what if” merry-go-round which leads to a needless, endless cycle of suffering—until we change our minds.

Leia Mais

Dare To Take Risks!

This is a series that finally looks through the looking glass from the other side. Instead of having one or more characters coming from wealthy, prominent families, we have four people in their late 20s struggling to make ends meet, just like most of us. What makes this series work so well is that you can relate to the characters.

If you want to get anywhere in life, risks are necessary. Vulnerability is necessary. Those who play it safe never truly get anywhere, and this series is about fulfilling your dreams and taking that big first step outside your comfort zone that just might lead to something great. Complacency and settling are the only true enemies to success. If you have a dream, you have to go for it and let nobody stand in your way. Teddy Roosevelt once said, “far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checked by failure than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in a grey twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.” This series emulates this truth.

Ko Dong Man is a disgraced MMA fighter, who finds himself doing odd-jobs just to make ends meet. Of course, he hates his jobs, but perhaps not as much as he hates his abusive boss. Still, he knows that he’s not doing what he loves: being an MMA fighter. And he finally decides to go back to it. His best friend is childhood friend, Choi Ae Ra whose loves for Ko Dong Man is only matched by her overbearing, temperamental demeanor. She often acts more like a mother than a friend. Choi Ae Ra is a woman who is also stuck in a rut, working a thankless job at a department store. Her dream is to become an announcer.

Kim Joo Man and Baek Seol Hee are in a six-year relationship and are basically living together as well as working at the same company. However, they aren’t married yet as Joo Man believes that he needs to be able to provide a better life for Seol Hee, even though it’s apparent that Seol Hee doesn’t care about that. Joo Man and Seol Hee share a sweet relationship that has, perhaps, gone a little stale. This leads Joo Man to make some unwise decisions when a female co-worker shows interest in him. Unable to see the situation for what it actually is, he falls into the traps laid out for him by the co-worker.

All four characters find themselves navigating the pitfalls of jobs and romance as they struggle to eke something out of the dreams that each of them has for themselves. Is it possible? Isn’t it safer to just continue to work in a meaningless occupation where neither passion nor fulfillment exist? You might be surprised how many people actually believe that it’s better to play it safe. I’ve even heard parents tell their children this.

There is only one Adrian Balboa. I’m talking about Rocky Balboa’s wife who hated the fact that Rocky was a boxer and routinely got hurt. However, after going through her own fears, she understands that she hasn’t the right to stand in the way of her husband’s passion and dreams. Nobody has that right.

Choi Ae Ra is a woman who loves Ko Dong Man, but she hates the fact that he is an MMA fighter. It’s understandable. How can someone stand by and watch someone they care about continuously get hurt? She can barely watch the fights that he’s in, and most of the time, she is paralyzed with fear that she’s left in tears. It’s not for everyone. However, Choi Ae Ra makes the mistake of giving Ko Dong Man an ultimatum: give up fighting or lose her. This is an unfair and completely selfish demand. If a person can’t handle being around someone else due to their job (military, policeman, etc.) then that person has every right to step out of that world, but don’t ask that person to give up being who they are. I was thrilled when Ko Dong Man refused to give in to her ultimatum and stuck with his dream. After all, he’d already quit on his dream once. Understandably, he can’t do it again.

The cast is first-rate, with Park Seo Joon (Ko Dong Man) and Song Ha Yoon (Seol Hee) being the standouts for me. This is the fourth time I’ve seen Park Seo Joon, and he brings his boyish charm and great sense of humor to his roles. This one is no exception as he virtually steals every scene he’s in. We laugh and cry with him. Song Ha Yoon is the same for me. As much as I like Kim Ji Won, Song Ha Yoon has a veritable sweetness and childlike vulnerability that is captivating. When she is crushed due to Joo Man’s betrayal, she makes us feel it. She is also the more mature of the two female leads.

The series is quite light without any serious drama or any ridiculous love-triangles. We do have Park Hye Ran who keeps trying to get her ex-boyfriend, Ko Dong Man back, but after already been burned once by her, he shows absolutely no interest in her at all. I was relieved. I nearly cringed and said, “Oh, no! Not another love-triangle!” As much as I like K-dramas, they do tend to milk the “love triangle” a bit too much.

I was also pleased with the more mature approach to the relationships. After six years together, it makes perfect sense the Joo Man and Seol Hee are living together. And while we have just a few awkward moments between Ko Dong Man and Choi Ae Ra, it also made sense that they would have a desire to spend the night together. “We’ve known each other for 20 years! How much slower do we have to go?” they ask. It added charm and realism to their situation, which always felt natural rather than awkward. I also tend to cringe in dramas where any act of intimacy (even just hugging or kissing) is treated like a crime is about to be committed. I will say that the scene where Ko Dong Man and Choi Ae Ra accidentally fall asleep in the hotel room together was absolutely hilarious!

I absolutely love how expressive Korean actors and actresses are, especially when you get really good ones like these four performers. You feel everything they feel, and there is no shame in the expression. We see just how crushed Joo Man is when he breaks down in tears after realizing that his naivety has disastrous consequences, or Choi Ae Ra’s reaction to Ko Dong Man getting seriously hurt in his fights. I love how these actors are able to tap into those emotional wells as it makes it all so real and poignant.

If you’re looking for something light and fun as well as something that you’ll likely relate to, you really can’t go wrong with this fun and delightful series!

Leia Mais

All Things Must Pass

There is one constant in the universe: Everything changes. Nothing stays the same. All “Goodbyes” are temporary. Shakespeare may have said it best: All the world’s a stage and all the men and women are merely players. They each have many entrances and exits, and one man in his time plays many parts.

Hotel Del Luna is an extraordinary series about the high price of holding onto grievances, unfinished business, resentments, guilt, and grudges. They create a heavy burden; a weight that must be released. The pivotal theme of this series is “letting go.” Surrender may be one of the most fearful things you’ll ever do, and yet, it’s also so incredibly simple. The fear of letting go is that we lose that which we most care about. The irony of letting go is the realization that we never lost anything to begin with! It’s always been there and always will be.

Hotel Del Luna is a hotel for the dead; the dead who aren’t quite ready to move on due to the reasons listed above. It becomes a bit of a staging area, and the irony is that the guest determines how long their stay will be based on when they are willing to let go of the past. Such is the power of forgiveness. There is only ever one person you need to forgive: yourself. Let go.

Jang Man Wol is the illustrious owner of the Hotel Del Luna. She’s been the owner for 1300 years. What binds her to the hotel is her own deep-seeded hatred and grudges from the past. Rather than face and deal with those things, she chooses distractions (like most people in life do!). She is a woman of opulence who is always looking for something to buy, whether it be expensive cars, clothes, jewelry, or even just money itself. She’s a bit of a con artist who is able to trade various services with her guests for monetary payments. She’s selfish, greedy, and someone who cares little for anyone’s happiness except for her own self-indulgence.

Enter Goo Chan Sung, a young hotelier who has been recruited by Jang Man Wol to be the new “human” manager. Of course, he’s initially reluctant, but he quickly sees the value in the hotel. And more importantly, he helps Jang Man Wol to treat people with respect as well as give her a glimmer into a life she could have if she were able to simply let go of her anger and hatred. Goo Chan Sung represents all that is decent and ethical in people. He chastises Jang Man Wol for her greed and treating guests little more than bank accounts, and he’s never afraid to do so. He speaks his mind, no matter how much the honesty might upset Jang Man Wol. What starts out as a very rocky business relationship, soon turns into one of both necessity and love.

Of course, nothing is quite as it seems, which is indicative of some of the best K-Dramas. We get to know the staff and how each of them has a past that must be faced and let go. They are all likeable, but one can see that there’s something sad about each of them. And why wouldn’t there be? There are fewer things sadder than a soul who is determined to remain earthbound because they are unable to let go of their attachments and their past.

Jang Man Wol is unique in that she is neither living nor dead. It’s as if she has a foot in both worlds. And with that, she has special abilities that help her deal with some of the nastier spirits and protect Goo Chan Sung as well, since he is human and has no true defenses against the dead.

One of my favorite characters is Ma Go Shin, who is a deity who represents the various aspects of the Divine. Some are somewhat cold and methodical. Others are gay and delightful. Each one shows up when it’s most necessary. While she imparts wisdom, she also understands that even she cannot interfere in the freedom of choice. Each soul must make his/her own choices with the understanding that there are always consequences. Seo Yi Sook did a masterful job with these “multiple” roles!

The visuals and cinematography are astounding in this series with vibrant, crisp colors that seem almost ethereal and other-worldly. Hotel Del Luna looms into the sky like a monstrous Taj Mahal that endeavors to touch the sky. And yet, these visuals do not detract in any way from the story or characters. As with so many well-made K-Dramas, the plot and characters are never sacrificed for spectacle.

There are many hilarious moments as well as many tearful and heart wrenching ones. Koreans are masters of never revealing everything all at once. This enables them to go back and fill in the missing pieces that make the story work. This is often done at the perspective of the character or characters which explains their behavior until they’re given “the whole picture.” In short, nothing is ever as it seems! And this keeps the viewer on their toes!

If I have one minor complaint about the series, it’s the chemistry—or lack of it—from IU and Yeo Jin Goo. There’s warmth and respect there, but it rarely strays into love or romance. You just don’t quite feel it from these two. I understand that IU is trying to depict Jang Man Wol is a cold, selfish woman, but chemistry is absolutely vital to this kind of a story. As many actors have stated: you either have chemistry or you don’t. It’s nearly impossible to manufacture. We see tears and a lot of emotion, but I was waiting to feel that angst; that despair of a love that must be let go. However, as I said, this is a minor issue that, fortunately, never really distracts or takes away from the story. It simply would have served the series better if the two leads had had some kind of chemistry which is why it's imperative that casting directors do their due diligence.

“Missing: The Other Side” is still my favorite “after life” series from Korea. This one’s pretty close. It starts at a slow burn and gradually starts moving. This isn’t a bad thing though as there is ample time to understand and get to know this intriguing, mystical world.

The series’ strength lies in its thematic elements of letting go of the past and releasing those resentments and grudges. I’m not sure many people understand or fully realize how important this is. Life is a process of letting go. If you dare to hold onto anything, it’s a lost cause because it’s ultimately doomed to failure which brings nothing but heartache and resentment. Knowing that all things pass away is a blessing. Why? Because nothing is lost, and you will eventually share “the stage” once more with those who have always been there but are simply playing a different role with a different face. How do you know this? Because they are with you now.

Leia Mais

Be A Diamond!

Itaewon Class may be one of the most inspirational series I’ve ever seen. There is tremendous power in seeing one person doing all he can to achieve a goal. It’s another thing when that person inspires others to do the same by placing his faith, trust, and love in them. And Gwang Jin’s poem, “I’m the Diamond” which is read at the end of the pivotal 12th episode, sums up everything that the series is about.

Park Sae Royi is a young man who loves his father dearly. Sae Royi is a principled man who believes that people should be treated appropriately. Upon seeing a fellow high school student being bullied by Jang Geun Won, he intervenes. Sae Royi doesn’t realize that Geun Won’s father, Jang Dae Hee runs one of the largest corporations in the country. Of course, this is another series where the corporate bully steps all over the weak. Dae Hee demands that Sae Royi get on his knees to beg for forgiveness, even in the presence of Sae Royi’s own father who works for Dae Hee. Sae Royi refuses and is promptly expelled. Fearing his father’s disapproval, Sae Royi is shocked to learn that his father couldn’t be prouder of a son who sticks to his principles unwaveringly. When Sae Royi’s father is killed in a hit-and-run accident by Geun Won, this sets in motion a chain of events that provides Sae Royi with only one goal: the destruction of Jangga Co., the downfall of Dae Hee, and Geun Won brought to justice for his crime.

Kobe Bryant’s English teacher once told him, “Rest at the end, not in the middle.” Sae Royi is a patient man with his eyes never wavering from his goal. He spends seven years after getting out of prison doing odd jobs, reading Dae Hee’s biography, and arming himself with money and knowledge to carry out his plan.

Sae Royi is one of the most inspirational characters, who reminds me a lot of Rocky Balboa; the little unknown “David” attempting to take down “Goliath.” He opens a small pub in Itaewon. It doesn’t take us long to see how much faith and trust he has for his employees and friends. He believes in them even when they don’t believe in themselves. He harbors no ill-will toward them, but he’s also quick to call out any of them if they mistreat or disrespect others. I’m sure that many would love to work for a boss like him!

Sae Royi’s true weapon, however, comes in the unlikely form of Jo Yi Seo, a young woman with an IQ of 162 who runs her own blog, carrying a massive platform of followers and subscribers. She’s rough around the edges, to say the least. She speaks her mind, never apologizing if her views and remarks hurt someone. To her, being honest with the truth is more important than tapdancing around with trivial and whimsical flattery that does nothing. While Yi Seo can be a little irritating at times, this girl knows what she wants and will do whatever it takes to attain it. She is so vivacious and direct that she doesn’t even think twice about telling Sae Royi that she likes him, or even warning those who get in Sae Royi’s way, that she will crush them. Kim Da Mi steals the series, in her depiction of Yi-Seo, in my opinion. She captivates and intrigues in every, single moment she’s on the screen. I’ve only seen her in “The Witch,” and “Our Beloved Summer,” but I’m enthralled by how diverse her characters are and how well she performs them. Yi-Seo quickly became my favorite character of this series. Tell me someone who wouldn’t want a veritable tigress for a companion; someone who will be in those trenches with you through thick and thin?

On the other side, we have Oh Soo Ah, who is Sae Royi’s high school classmate and protégé of his father’s. Oh Soo Ah is someone who will always straddle the fence; someone who is afraid to stand up for anyone or anything. At heart, she’s a true coward which is what all fence straddlers are. Too afraid to pick a side/position, they sit and watch. Oh Soo Ah loves the fact that Sae Royi likes her, but she makes no apologies for being completely unprincipled, including accepting money and working for Jangga Co, regardless of what happened to Sae Royi’s father. She is also incredibly superficial and selfish. Fortunately, for Oh Soo Ah, Sae Royi doesn’t hold it against her. He’s a bit naïve and gullible when it comes to Oh Soo Ah. When we see Yi-Seo with Oh Soo Ah, it’s easily apparent who the stronger woman is, and it’s hilarious each time Yi-Seo hits Oh Soo Ah with the truth of why she’s such a coward, exposing her at each and every turn. Yi-Seo is nobody’s fool, especially Oh Soo Ah’s.

Also take notice that Oh Soo Ah has a list of conditions that Park Sae Royi must meet in order to date her. Yi-Seo has none. And love never has conditions.

It's a true pleasure watching the journey of Sae Royi and his employees as they slowly rise up, deal with setbacks and even being virtually knocked out, only to come back stronger than before. They may get knocked down, but they keep getting back up. Slowly, we can see the believing in people and treating them right, begins to gain footing against Dae Hee and his unprincipled manner of doing business, where people are nothing more than pawns to be used, including his own sons.

The story arc even takes on discrimination, and beautifully so, as Sae Royi hires the black son of a Korean father as well as a transgender cook. In a world where transgenders are mocked, reviled, and frowned upon, the series strikes its own high point when Hyun Yi is about to go on a cooking show, and she’s betrayed when her “transgender” status is made public. While Sae Royi sticks by her side and lets her know that she can leave, if she wants, it’s Yi-Seo who calls her up on the phone and reads her the poem, “I’m the Diamond.” Yi-Seo knows all about just being who you are and never apologizing for it to anyone for any reason. It’s a remarkably powerful scene that should give anyone goosebumps as well as something to think about.

Performances in this series are absolutely stellar with Park Seo Joon, Kwon Na Ra, and others. Still, as I’ve already pointed out, Kim Da Mi is the highlight with veteran Korean actor, Yoo Jae Myung (Dae Hee) who’s been impeccable in everything I’ve seen him in (Stranger, Strong Girl Bong Soon, Vincenzo). He brings the corporate mogul to a whole new level, and the series wouldn’t have been nearly as effective without him.

Itaewon Class is a series that should get anyone fired up to pursue their goals and dreams. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, and we see why careful planning and steadfastness are necessary ingredients as well as being willing to lean on those who want to march right along side you. It’s also a series that encourages people to always fight against discrimination and injustice no matter where they rear their ugly heads. Don’t let those with money and power call the shots. Even the smallest person can rise up and fight effectively. The mosquito is one of the smallest predators on the planet, but it also kills far more people than any other animal. Sae Royi reminded me of a mosquito. He antagonizes, pesters, and bites, forcing a reaction.

The diamond is the hardest substance that we know of, and yet it's created due to enormous pressure. But once it's created, it can withstand anything. Don't let pressure get to you. Use it! Be a diamond!

Itaewon Class feels like a series that sits nearly alone in the echelon of series that inspires and encourages us to believe in the definition of nobility: being better than you used to be. Perhaps, that is reason enough to understand why this series resonates in the hearts of so many who have watched it.

Leia Mais

Castaway Diva is Mostly a Cast Away Series

Castaway Diva is a good story that does a lot of things right, while overlooking and dismissing a lot of things throughout the story. In many cases, a 16-episode story arc can run too long. This is a case where the series would have been better served with 16 episodes rather than 12.

The premise is a good one, in which Seo Mok Ha finds herself stranded on an island for 15 years, after trying to escape her abusive father. I didn’t know that there are over 3,000 islands within the Korean Archipelago, a fact that should have been mentioned to give the viewer some idea of why Seo Mok Ha was so difficult to locate.

Some suspension of disbelief is required for this aspect of the series. Unlike in the movie “Castaway,” which was well researched by Robert Zemeckis, Seo Mok Ha has suffered no psychological effects from being isolated. She isn’t suffering from malnutrition, and her teeth are perfectly white. Also, that far north, Korean winters can bring cold weather, even on that island, and yet, she somehow survives this without any ill effects as well. It plays out more like a Disney movie than anything resembling realism. And yet, despite all of this, I was interested in seeing more of “island” Seo Mok Ha and some explanations about how she survived and got through a day. The series spends little real time on this aspect.

We know from the beginning that Seo Mok Ha has aspirations of being a famous singer, just like her idol, Yoon Ran Joo, going so far as to send Yoon Ran Joo a demo with the hopes of taking her first step toward a possible singing career.

One of the themes of this series is child abuse. It’s a disturbing crime, no matter the form it comes in. It was difficult to watch Jung Ki-Ho holding off Seo Mok Ha’s abusive father, as he’s being pummeled on the dock. It was far worse seeing people standing and watching while doing absolutely nothing about it.

Jung Ki-Ho relates to Seo Mok Ha’s plight as his own father—a police officer—is even more sick and abusive. 15 years later, we find that Jung Ki-Ho, along with his mother and brother, have found a way to live a new life away from Jung Bong Wan (their father) with the hopes of escaping the abuse.

There are many parts of the series that work well, but there are also many parts that are severely overlooked or just don’t really work at all. It was as if the writer had either forgotten or simply didn’t take such logic into account. As a result, the story suffers.

I was waiting for a conversation between Seo Mok Hal and Jung Ki-ho after his identity is finally revealed. I was waiting for Seo Mok Hal to ask him all about what happened on that fateful day on the dock; to find out what had happened to him, and all of the questions a close friend would have had running through their minds. No conversation takes place. They move on as if nothing had happened.

Jung Ki-ho goes to great lengths to expose his father for the abuser that he is, including setting up equipment to use as evidence against him, particularly when his father beats him yet again. And yet, when the evidence may be crucial in bringing Jung Bong Wan to justice, or at the very least, used to demonstrate to the prosecutor the nature of Jung Bong Wan’s character, the evidence is suddenly nowhere to be found, nor is it ever mentioned again.

Also, with the number of charges brought against Jung Bong Wan, how is a man like that allowed to roam freely? No explanation is offered regarding this either. It was as if the writer chose to dismiss these things in order to make the plot work---which is always a mistake, by the way.

I love Eun Bin Park. I think she’s one of the best young actresses in the business, but after “Age of Youth,” Hot Stove League,” and “Extraordinary Attorney Woo,” this is my least favorite performance of hers. It was as if she couldn’t find the balance between the innocent, young girl stranded on an island, and the driven young woman striving to fulfill her dream! In short, she often overacts in a number of scenes, and at times when it’s just not warranted at all. It sounded forced. I like that Seo Mok Hal is a strong woman who is loyal, but her transition from stranded island girl to an ambitious singer was so fast that it was as if she’d never been on the island at all!

Another problem is that the chemistry between Eun Bin Park and Chae Jong Hyeop is literally nowhere to be found. The little “romance” never took off at all, not only because the two actors had no chemistry, but also because the amount of screen time devoted to them together was miniscule at best. There was nothing built up, nor was there anything taking off from when they were in middle school together. Frankly, the chemistry between the two actors portraying Seo Mok Hal and Jung Ki Ho in middle school was far more appealing!
Also, there are just too many times when characters quickly dismiss a conflict or problem and then it’s just magically resolved. The biggest glaring example of this was between Seo Mok Hal and Park Yong Kwan. They have tremendous friction between them, and he refuses to let Seo Mok Hal use his song. But suddenly within the space of a day, he does a one-eighty.

The songs are well sung in this series, but frankly, none of them caught my ear. That’s always been a thing about basing a movie/show on music. If the music doesn’t work, then it hurts one of the key elements. I can’t think of any musicals that I liked when I didn’t care for the songs or find them appealing.

Castaway Diva is not a bad series, but it’s not a great one either. Its sloppy writing and lack of chemistry prevented it from being a great series. There was more chemistry between Seo Mok Hal and Yoon Ran Joo. Perhaps if the writers had focused on that aspect more, the series would have been much better. If you spread yourself out too thin as a writer, you end up coming up short on all of your storylines. Castaway Diva is a perfect example of this.

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