Fantasy Healing Fable

I will preface this by saying that this is in all likelihood the best drama I’ve seen all year. By a strong margin. It’s certainly one of the best I’ve seen in the last 12 months. Until Shards of Her, I hadn’t watch any Taiwanese dramas in several years. Yet in the last couple of months, I’ve discovered a treasure trove of good shows. This is perhaps the best one with the widest appeal. While it has whodunit elements, there’s no gore or violence to deter the faint-hearted. It’s a gloriously perfect blend of coming-of-age, fantasy, a touch of horror, detective and family drama. The weakest part I’d say is the police procedural side of things occasionally played for laughs (which doesn’t help especially from the perspective of a seasoned watcher) but all is quickly forgiven because this show is driven by great storytelling and is imbued with plenty of heart. It’s the kind of show that the Koreans call a “healing drama”. Which usually results in an outpouring of eye water once the waterworks are turned on. Good grief. I don’t remembered the last time I cried this much in a drama.

The star of the show is Pu Yiyong played by Tseng Jinghua, an underachieving high school graduand whose only talent is calligraphy. It’s hereditary. His grandfather is a renowned calligrapher and a teacher in the art. But that distinct family trait has a habit of skipping a generation. Calligraphy however is a dying art form, quickly being superceded by technology. On the other hand Yiyong’s only ambition is to be a comic book artist after completing high school. One day on his way to a calligraphy competition, Yiyong, his father and grandfather board a bus which unfortunately falls prey to an incoming airplane. The lad survives but wakes up after being comatosed for over 2 years. His grandfather barely makes it and is still unconscious in hospital even after all that time. It is left to Mother, Ye Baosheng (Cheryl Yang) to pick up the pieces.

While time has moved on and everyone else with it, Yiyong is lost at sea with no paddle. Or map. Metaphorically. He has no idea what’s next for him until he becomes entangled with supernatural beings who insist that they need him to settle unfinished business on their behalf. So an almost 20 year old unemployed Yiyong reluctantly takes on “cases” that contain at their heart a riddle that needs to be unravelled. Enter Chen Chuying, a junior police officer (Vivian Sung) to lend him a helping hand and takes the lion’s share of the credit for clearing up these mysteries in front of her colleagues. Still cracking these cases is a team effort. Along for the ride is former schoolmate and med student Cao Guangyan (Peng Cianyou) who coincidentally moves next door with his dad (Mario Pu) when Dad’s days in publishing comes to an abrupt end.

Yiyong becomes a reluctant sleuth as he wrestles with his own future and the loss of his father which has left a gaping wound with guilt at the centre of it. He has nightmares that he can’t make head or tail of. There’s also a shadowy figure in the background determined to test his mettle at every turn. Unlike others who have come before, Yiyong is a reluctant superhero. He would rather get on with life and not be haunted by beings that only he can see. Until he starts drawing them that is.

On a deeper level, like many crime shows, this is about the forgotten people in our communities. Those who have suffered loss. The lonely. The homeless. The victims of crimes. This where the show tugs at the heartstrings effectively. The rollercoaster of emotions that I feel in this comes only very rarely. Beautifully intertwined with all of this is also the message that everyone has something that they’re good at. Even a designated “loser” by current social standards can contribute in unexpected ways. Academic smarts aren’t the be all and end all. Everyone has a part to play in the social engine regardless of social status, education, smarts or rank.

This journey of course isn’t Yiyong’s alone. Chen Chuying and Cao Guangyan, his so-called “superiors” who accompany him have a lot to learn from him as well as these out-of-this-world experiences. Chuying understandably is desperate the climb the ladder and break glass ceilings in the police but is forced to confront her own motives for wanting to a respected detective. And Guangyan, for once in his life doesn’t have all the answers regarding his future.

I am new to most of the cast and Tseng Jinghua who leads the cast is definitely brimming with potential. He brings the right balance of confusion, grumpy frustration and a reluctant compassion to the role. Despite Yiyong’s brusque demeanour Tseng Jinghua manages to keep him relatable and likeable.

To give credit where it’s due, I leave my highest praise for the script and by extension the writer. It’s the kind of story that could easily lose its way or get derailed by all the moralizing but unlike many others it’s unusually disciplined by keeping the main thing the main thing. The result is a coherent piece of storytelling which is undergirded by a surefooted direction. Once it takes off it never falters. Furthermore they also manage not to butcher the finale in order to leave the door open for another series. Which is entirely doable if the will (and a decent script) is on the table.

Leia Mais

Formulaic and Fun Fluff

In decades of television watching, I haven't met a contract relationship drama that I find completely unbearable. (A Business Proposal did test my resolve) Despite the fact that the C drama production line churns them out as if entire livelihoods depend on them, I always manage to find one to suit the mood I'm in. It's no different in this case.

I'm a sucker for contract marriage tropes in the same way people hanker for Korean fried chicken. It's moreish, a guilty pleasure and we know exactly what's on offer. No more, no less. In other words, it's unabashedly a tropefest... with a vengeance. Too much can undoubtedly lead to indigestion. Hence things play out very much by the numbers: sign the contract, cohabitate, misunderstandings, feelings develop, obstacles from within and without, last-minute separation and then the happily-ever-after.

Right out of the romance playbook is the grumpy but ridiculously good-looking CEO who is being pestered by his doting grandmother who uses her ailing health to force him into finding a bride ASAP. Being the good grandson that he is, (and he's probably sick of the nagging too) he complies and settles on He Jinxi who forces her twin sister Su Yanxi to take her place to fulfil the contract. In predictable fashion, the nicer younger sister enters the Gu household and very quickly the tsundere CEO, Gu Xicheng falls for her winsome ways affecting an indifference he doesn't feel. Soon he's pleading for her to stay and indeed who can resist those puppy dog eyes? She succumbs to the wooing but suffers pangs of guilt from time to time for the deception, dreading the day that he will have to be told about her real name. Meanwhile he romances her like there's no tomorrow proving that there's a beating heart 'neath the harsh exterior. Moreover, like all tsunderes that have come beforehand, he is a man living with trauma and abandonment issues.

It's everything we've seen before but of course this is a 24 episode C drama and obstacles to happiness must come into it sooner or later. Rivals enter and wreak havoc. One being Nangong Liuli, who has the oddest idea that Gu Xicheng used to be in love her ie. the clingy type who is an utter disgrace to womanhood with her antics. In no time she turns into an emotional basket case when she can't take "no" for an answer. Then there's Fu Boye, a childhood friend of Su Yanxi. He too may or may not have special feelings for Su Yanxi aka He Jinxi. His fixation with Xixi comes across as rude but it can't be disputed that it keeps Gu Xicheng on his toes.

The show makes no claim to originality but gets plenty of mileage (as one might expect) from having attractive actors at the helm. Luo Zheng certainly looks the part and easily slips into the one-woman-only man role with ease. I liked his chemistry with Lin Xiyi who plays the woman he falls for. He doesn't have to extraordinarily good here (and he's not) but he does enough to convince me that he's in love with Xixi. Besides I watch these things mostly to see the male lead fall for his fated love and I wasn't disappointed. Lin Xiyi is the good-hearted Xixi whose good naturedness is calculated to thaw the CEO faster than the speed of sound. When she's not romancing him, she's doing cosmetics livestreaming with her bestie Lu Anan (Li Xinran) who doubles up as love interest for Xicheng's PA and brother-in-arms, Situ Shuo (Wang Xudong).

There's a nice bit of fan servicing or should I say lip servicing from Episode 16 onwards. Or episodes 16-20 more precisely. That's before the axe falls and the evil twin returns to the plot with her menacing best. It does get nasty and predictably all skeletons come tumbling out of the cupboard one at a time at the writer's whim. It is around this period that Xixi becomes a constant source of frustration and sets up a very unnecessary last minute separation. It's her opportunity to take control of the narrative but no, she doesn't even follow her own advice. It's tiring to watch because Xicheng (who is no fool) is practically begging her to tell him why she's moody and moping when the evil twin tries to drive a wedge between the leads.

In the end, this is harmless fluff. No thinking is required and none is recommended. Just sit back, relax, count the tropes and enjoy the nuttiness.

Leia Mais

Hard-hitting Psychodrama

This one popped up on my Netflix feed recently and while the premise sounded intriguing, it was the magic words "Toby Lee" that hooked and reeled me in. Toby Lee last seen by me in the historical detective drama Miss Truth isn’t the main character here but he certainly commands a strong presence throughout the storyline. The titular "her" is played by Tiffany Hsu and she gives a sterling performance as the deeply troubled Lin Chenxi, a competent HR recruiter or “headhunter” whose life is thrown into complete disarray on the arrival of a new employee.

The show begins with a suspicious death in an aged care facility in a small town. The victim is a former high school physics teacher Xie Zhizhong. The local cops finger a nurse, Yan Shenghua, a former student of his, as the chief suspect. As the show progresses, who done it, however becomes secondary to why it was done. The teacher's death is more or less a MacGuffin to make way for the real story — a terrible destructive secret that sets the stage for family dysfunction, guilt, regret and estrangement.

Lin Chenxi is a busy professional going places in her company. On the surface things seem to be going well for her. But enter Danny (Chris Wu) the cousin of the CEO who is eager to prove himself as the organization’s new rising star. His cocky, glib, overconfident demeanour camouflages a far more sinister persona. Danny, in fact is a sociopathic misogynist and loathes being upstaged, particularly by women. When Chenxi successfully talks a potential recruit into accepting a contract after the arrogant Danny botches the negotiation process, he goes ballistic. He lashes out and deploys the only weapons available to him — sexual harassment which escalates into violence.

These series of events seem to trigger deep seated memories and emotions that seem to set the stage for a mental breakdown. In a state of panic after escaping from the clutches of Danny, Chenxi meets with a road accident and is rendered unconscious.

When Chenxi regains consciousness she finds herself back in the house that she grew up in with her parents and twin brother in their hometown. From then on she exists in a perpetual state of confusion about where she is, who the people around her are and her relationships with them. The folks tell her that she’s been in an accident and seems to be suffering amnesia but why does she have fragmented memories of of a life elsewhere in Taipei with a supportive boyfriend (Toby Lee) who is now nowhere to be found. Much of the show sees her trying to navigate these memories trying to sift the truth from the lies as she becomes embroiled in the investigation of the death of her former teacher and the disappearance of an old classmate. It soon becomes clear that her family and former besties are keeping things from her as she stumbles around in the dark looking for answers.

“Shards” used here is apt as it points to the fragmentary and even unreliable nature of memories. Moreover it also refers to the fragility and brokenness of a soul stuck in a tragic past with no healing in sight. A shattered visage as it were. Furthermore “shards” can also signify the pieces of a puzzle that the audience has to put together as they journey with Chenxi.

As the audience sees events through Chenxi’s lenses, we are inevitably drawn into the same disorientation and speculation. Has she travelled back in time? Has she landed into an alternate universe? Is this all just a really bad dream?

The answers come eventually because the show isn’t just about the sordid past but about the dysfunctional gender dynamics that plague our world today. Sexual harassment opens the door to other unpleasant subjects related to the treatment of women in the workplace, the use of technology to invade women’s most private and intimate spaces. As it exposes the nasty side of cosmopolitan 21st century living, the show doesn’t shy away from taking a broad perspective on how both men and women are complicit in perpetuating such behaviours this side of the sexual revolution.

Despite the hard-hitting subjects covered in these 9 episodes, all of this still manages to arrive at a satisfying and profoundly moving finale. It's no exaggeration to say that this drama probably has the best ending I've seen all year. There’s undeniably an ugly side to humanity that has to be confronted constantly and often it seems to be our default position to do harm even with the best of intentions. In spite of the psychodrama and psychobabble at the end, I don’t find the resolution simplistic. There is an acknowledgement that the past is not so easily expunged and living with mental health issues does take a toll not only on the survivors but also on their loved ones. The goal is healing which will take time and effort.

All in all this is a strong script that’s tightly plotted. The cast as a whole is excellent — young and old. It’s the first Taiwanese drama I’ve watched in a few years because I had more or less given up finding one with a decent script without tons of fillers. I imagine that the format — 9 episodes — helps in keeping this trim and terrific. Regardless of the fact that I found this show engaging and immersive, I can’t see too many wanting to revisit it.

It would be remiss of me to end this review without some kind of warning. This is not a show for the faint-hearted, it’s certainly not for those who will be triggered by images of sexual assault especially if that’s been a feature of their past. Even though I’m someone with a strong stomach for crime shows, I too found those scenes disturbing and confronting.

Leia Mais

When Elvis Met Elvira

Can anything good come out of MangoTV? Occasionally perhaps and this gem seems to be one of them. I don’t think it is hyperbolic to say that this is perhaps the best rom com I've seen in a long time... in the vein of When Harry Met Sally but more grounded in real world issues. Both leads are upwardly mobile hardworking outstanding professionals in their respective workplaces but circumstances are such that they are stretched to their limits. They live precariously on the precipice as they maneuver the snake pits of corporate culture as "slaves" to their masters' bidding due to the necessity of holding on to their jobs where nothing is ever a guarantee. It's highly realistic in the way it depicts the dog-eat-dog work environment that's all too familiar to struggling wage earners in the East Asian context. In reaction to this global phenomenon there’s been plenty of talk about the Great Resignation or quiet quitting in the past few years. Gone are the days where a person remains in the same job, profession, industry for their entire working life. This drama reflects that harsh reality of a competitive labour market in the everchanging contemporary economic landscape and the need for adaptability. While it satirizes the milieu that it explores, it is at its core a sympathetic exploration of the men and women who live in the coalface of workplace grind.

Elvis Han and Elvira Cai headline this office drama where romance is assumed to play an integral part of the work-life realities that afflict many overworked employees today. So how do people find time for courting and wooing in this day and age where men and women work long hours, barely have time for meals, are exploited by the employers competing with other employers for contracts and clients? It's a battleground out there and many are not past dirty tricks to gain the upperhand. A fact that inevitably spills into relationships with significant others.

Elvis Han's Xu Ziquan is an investment banker and for him, a rising star in the industry, it's the neverending chase for that next big deal that's giving him sleepless nights. He looks genuinely exhausted. (I suspect Elvis Han was nursing a cold for most of the shoot) If he can't clinch it, it's reallocations and retrenchments for his team. He meets Tang Ying (Elvira Cai) onboard a plane for the first time and the sparks are ignited. She's a corporate lawyer at the bottom of the food chain barely keeping her head above the water with a demanding supervisor on her back 24/7. She piques his curiosity during their brief exchange and apparently the feeling is mutual but neither expects to see the other again. Of course they do first through her sister then later they work together on a crucial M & A project. The two first decide that they are best suited to be friends and drinking partners in part because she has heard of his (overblown) reputation with women and in part because he is a bit of a commitment phobe. As they start to spend more time together, they begin to rethink their "friendship". Indeed can their "friendship" transition into a "dating relationship"? Not without a few bumps and wake-up calls along the way.

The push and pull is rather well done here and never goes overboard to the point of frustration. Work does get in the way. The leads are busy putting out fires on the one hand while rubbing shoulders with a whole host of potential obstacles to true love — acquaintances, colleagues, and clients. There are plenty of opportunities for them to look elsewhere and keep their options open till kingdom come but in the end they keep finding their way to each other regardless of admirers and ridiculous schedules. There are troublemakers strewn along the path of true love but once the main pairing make their minds up, they are a team in the making. Nonetheless what the series does even better is the way it deals with accommodation. With all the different kinds of relationships on display the narrative acknowledges that seeking companionship and making families is not only a human impulse but clearly constant negotiation is necessary to solidifying long-term relationships. The leads may tease and make jibes at one another but their conversation also have depth and thoughtfulness that show their commitment to each other.

There’s an important side story with Tang Ying’s sister Xinzi who is in search of the perfect mate that will check all the right boxes. It’s a long hard road for the spoilt princess type but through her experiences with a few men she comes to conclude a few home truths on her own.

The best thing about this is the script although it’s undeniable that the chemistry between the leads is fabulous and the direction is classy. The tension, the UST, the build-up is great. The dialogue more than anything else just sparkles especially during the banter between the leads. I find myself grinning from ear to ear as I watch their antics. Of course it’s even better in the Chinese. In a romantic comedy the repartee is almost everything. More than that however is the way the leads and their arcs are written. Tang Ying and Xu Ziquan are relatable people dealing with all the same kinds of issues that the rest of us know only too well. He’s no prince and she’s no Cinderella. They just want in on their piece of the pie. To make their mark in a complex world where they’ve been fed lies about their real priorities. They have their strengths and their flaws. Because they are decent people they try their best to get on with everyone even their bitterest rivals and sometimes it means they can’t say no. Sometimes it means that people who can’t take no for an answer take advantage of their good will.

All in all, it’s a wonderful 14-episode drama that isn’t driven (or hampered) by the usual incoherent adherence to romance tropes that plague a lot of rom coms in recent times. Moreover the length of the drama speaks volumes as to why this one is a cut above the rest.

And the OST... is outstanding. Just like When Harry Met Sally.

Leia Mais

Hail Hail! The Gang's All Here.

West Incheon’s favourite good cops Kang Do-chang (Son Hyun-joo and Oh Ji-hyeok (Jang Seung-jo) are back again for another season of murder, mayhem and manipulation with the rest of the lads from Team 2 who are much more of a cohesive fighting machine than once they were. They are still led by Team Leader Woo Bong-shik (Jo Hee-bong), a perpetual nervous wreck whose timidity regarding what they're up against is only equalled by his fear of his wife’s nagging and their chief, Moon Sang Beom (Son Jong-hak) who lives for that holy grail promotion that’s just around the corner.

In this series the team tangles first of all with a serial killer in their neighbourhood with a fetish for young women in white. When they finally get their man they play a rather protracted, elaborate game of cat and mouse with a family-run conglomerate, TJ Group who seem to be at the centre of domestic violence and possibly crimes of passion. At the start the patriarch (Song Yang-chang) of TJ Group is spending time behind bars for dubious business practices and the company is left to the devices of his contentious offspring Cheon Sang-woo (Choi Dae-hoon), Cheon Na-na (Kim Hyo-jin) and son-in-law Woo Tae-ho (Jung Moon-sung). The half siblings duke it out for supremacy while Woo Tae-ho, also head of the legal team, is caught between their ferocious rivalry. Their story is both high melodrama and a psychological battle of wits rolled into one.

The thing to note first of all about this franchise is that this never purports to be a police procedural about the nobility of the boys in blue. Far from it. Indeed it is a show about cops — warts and all. The official English title is somewhat misleading and would be better translated from the original as The Model Detective. That said Do-chang and Ji-hyeok aren’t perfect men (Ji-hyeok comes pretty close) but they are the closest thing to diligence and smarts as one might get from this rag tag bunch of investigators. The two men are as alike as chalk and cheese but in very significant ways define what this abstract model detective looks like. Do-chang is all heart and emotionally driven. He sympathizes deeply with the victims’ families which is evidenced by his relationship with his adopted daughter and their relationship with the victim's grandfather. Having lost his father to a cold blooded killing, Oh Ji-hyeok isn’t just intellectually committed to cracking every case, he is absolutely determined to catch every single perpetrator that comes his way. He is depicted as the consummate detective and he’s earned the respect of his colleagues to the extent that his intelligence guides the discourse in the office. The maknae of the team Shim Dong-wook shows plenty of promise except that his Achilles’ heel seems to be his ne’er do well brother Dong-il who seems to fall prey to all kinds of schemes concocted by those whose aim is to divide and conquer.

Unlike your garden variety police procedural, getting to the bottom of the mystery isn’t the main thing here. There aren’t any intractable mysteries or supervillains here. If that’s what you’re looking for, you might want to look elsewhere. Like many K crime shows, knowing who’s responsible isn’t the end of the story or sufficient cause for an arrest because proof is hard to come by. Meanwhile the perpetrators are protected by layers political clout or vested interests which reflects how any kind of business is done in that part of the world. Truth isn’t just a casualty, it’s barely relevant in such a context. In the end one might appeal to self-interest, financial incentives, threats, and political expediency but very seldom is righteous fervour or a well-developed sense of justice part of the equation. Within this dog eat dog ecosystem, detectives see themselves as a link in the food chain and they might want to negotiate for a better deal than what the public service can offer them. It isn’t just a case of survival of the fittest but a submission to the status quo — to the way things are. Jang Ki-jin which is this season’s corrupt cop alongside Choi Yong-geun an ex-cop now enjoying the benefits of being a stooge of TJ group represents a sample of what’s wrong with the public service: It is dominated by capable but ambitious individuals who use their previous service as a stepping stone to getting in bed with the rich and powerful.

Woo Tae-ho, who is another new face in the franchise, is a morally enigmatic figure. Without his inclusion in the mix, the TJ Group would be just another feuding chaebol family. He’s a mediator, a broker and the protector in a messy situation. Somewhere along the way the former prosecutor got mired in that family’s misdemeanours to the extent that he became the family’s lap dog cleaning up after them. His moral compass has gone awry in service of the woman he married. Perhaps that’s why he became attracted to the deceased Jung Hee-joo, a subordinate, who was something of a misfit in that environment. Tae-ho’s dynamic with his wife Cheon Na-na is tragically compounded by layers of irreparable misunderstandings. From an outsider’s perspective, it looks like they’re two people who may lingering feelings for each other but an insurmountable wall has sprung up between them with neither wanting to make the first move to repair matters. There’s little trust on her side and there’s plenty of guilt on his. Na-na whose mental state is fragile despite the bravado clearly frames herself as the victim in the Cheon family dysfunction. She teeters back and forth on the edge of the abyss between stylish poise and wretched madness. It’s a masterful performance by Kim Hyo-jin. Without a doubt her chemistry with Jung Moon-sung is one of the more arresting parts of the show. Jung Moon-sung is one of those truly underrated actors who has the versatility and the charisma to be a male lead but for some reason that status has eluded him thus far.

In the end “Why was Jung Hee-joo killed?” is perhaps a far more difficult question to answer than “Who killed Jung Hee-joo?” The answer to the first question is far more psychologically complex than one might think. But at the end of the day, it’s a question that’s much more of interest to a viewer like me than the conspirators who are trying to misdirect and impede the investigation. For those of us who were raised on the teat of western crime fiction, it might be something of an anticlimax that the answers that her grandfather seeks can only be found only after a series of negotiations, accommodation and political compromises. However, such is the reality of that world. At least the cops can console themselves with the belief that the dead woman’s family can get some closure.

In an ensemble such as this with veterans and well-regarded character actors, it’s pretty much a guarantee that the performances will be stellar across the board. The actors contribute in large part to making this viewing experience an immersive one. It is a male-centric story and one of my great delights is watching the Team 2 camaraderie at work. The banter between the leads and among their colleagues never fails to amuse. Each deliver a punchline with flair especially when it's not heard by the others. What began to flower in S1 has developed into a bit of an art in this series. The dialogue spiced with wit and irony is music to the ears. Despite the ribbing and backhanded serves of chastisement, these men do really care about each other — they can be relied upon to have each other’s backs when the chips are down. Often it is a testosterone filled space that they occupy but I relish every single moment that I spend with these men.

It’s no secret that I’m slightly in love with Oh Ji-hyeok partly because of Jang Seung-jo and he does play the character in a thoughtful understated way. Despite his superior skill set, Ji-hyeok is a team player and the running gags about his good looks and his wealth oddly enough never gets old. His double act with the grumpy but passionate Kang Do-chan (Son Hyun-soo) is more often than not comedy gold.

This show is a fine example of how to do core characters well — to imbue them with distinct personalities and give them character arcs that often test their mettle. I don’t think it’s too much of an exaggeration to note that many crime shows do such a good job with the antagonists that often the protagonists fade innocuously into the background. Not so here. The drama is clear on what its roots are and where its focus should ultimately be right to its humorous ending.

Leia Mais

Murder and Misdaventures

This was the drama I didn't know I needed or was waiting for but I was hooked from the moment the FL jumped into the bath with the ML. None of us would ever be the same again. :D

At the heart of this crime solving drama is the love story between two larger than life personalities. It begins with an unexpected intrusion, then an almighty clash of wills. All that belied a meeting of minds and a passion for getting to the bottom of inexplicable occurrences that came their way. The two bicker their way to the autopsy table and there they become a formidable pair of ancient sleuths trying to uncover criminal activities and make sense of their growing feelings for each other while navigating a thorny love triangle that includes a former betrothed who has secrets of his own. The show also manages to thrust them into one of my favourite tropes -- the contract marriage -- in entertaining fashion. I admit to cringing at the start with their respective nicknames but came to love them once they evolved into terms of endearment.

The format of the drama sees the two stumbling or being led into cases which may or may not have immediate relevance to the overarching Bad Guy plot. The pair with their combined abilities resolve them quickly but their exploits and romance soon come to the attention of larger forces at work. What I found especially interesting is how these individual cases have direct lessons for the pair regarding their own journey to finding true love.

The star of the show in my book is Xiao Song, a veritable Sherlock Holmes styled character whose knack for deductions earns him the appellation of being the country's premiere investigator ("The Sorrow of Chang'an's Ghosts"), a highly valued official of the Tang emperor's court. He falls for the sassy and skilled Ran Yan who is inevitably Dr Watson to his Holmes. Xiao Song is not one to do things by half. He lives large and loves large but desperate times bringeth forth the man, showing his true mettle. He is played by the wonderful and delightful Toby Lee whose versatility gives flesh to the character beyond the super sleuth template. At times he is the lofty official that throws his weight around barking commands, the next he is a mischievous suitor to his reluctant coroner pushing her buttons to get her to bend to his will. There is however, also a tender almost boyish side to him, glimpsed when showing genuine concern for the people he really cares about. Overall he is really the best written character whose passion for the truth and for the woman he loves makes him someone you can't help rooting for.

Newcomer Pinky Zhou plays the lovely, smart and strong-willed titular character who accompanies Xiao Song on his fishing expeditions ;) albeit reluctantly at first. It doesn't take long before she gets bitten by the bug and becomes an adept detective in her own right. Zhou is generally adequate to the task although I suspect a more seasoned hand would have produced a more nuanced and satisfying performance.

Our main duo are ably supported their motley crew made up of the doggedly loyal Bai Yi, Wan Lu, the cowardly but multi-talented scholar extraordinaire Sang Chen and Uncle Wu, Ran Yan's teacher and mentor. Occasionally the former fiance, SF finds himself on the same side as his bitterest rival.

As a long-time fan of crime fiction, I really enjoyed riding on the whodunnit and whydunnit bandwagon following the mystery of the week while the couple bickered and completed each other's thoughts. But the single most important highlight was discovering Toby Lee who was born to take on this role.

Leia Mais

A Snack for a Rainy Day

In 2015, a Korean drama Hyde, Jekyll and Me received a great deal of attention for its quirky premise. At the time I was a fan of the actor who played the male lead, Hyun Bin and thought the premise intriguing -- a man suffering from dissociative personality disorder and both personalities competing for the female lead. The result was a mixed bag. Hyun Bin was great in the dual role but the script was weak (the world building was half-hearted) and aspects of it ridiculous. I can well imagine too that it’s a challenge to find a satisfying resolution to a love triangle that involves two people sharing the same body when the female lead shows a distinct preference for the secondary identity over the core one.

Several years later, someone else has taken another stab at the subject matter and the result is also a mixed bag. Again it’s mainly the script although performances vary across the board. Here the female lead Jing Zhixia (Joey Chua) meets the alternate personality Lin first and it's love at first sight. Some time later the two indulge in a steamy one night stand and the core identity Fu Zeyi (Xiao Kaizhong) wakes up the next morning wondering what his alter had gotten them both into and then takes off without so much as a by your leave. The poor girl is left ruminating for a year about the charming musician that swept her off her feet then left her high and dry.

While Joey Chua has a knack for the comedic, her character Jing Zhixia, though badly used by the two personalities is not exactly well written. This is the definition of a trashy rom com but even so how a woman of her limited ability (or limited interest in the business) can be allowed to be part of the management of a 5-star hotel boggles the mind. I'm not sure I'd even trust her with a small-scale B and B. Certainly it’s understandable that the show doesn’t want her to be the stereotypical Cinderella figure in a grumpy, arrogant CEO drama. Instead she’s a materialistic spoilt rich girl who decides to sell off a portion of her shares in the family business so that she can go gallivanting. This of course plays into the much more capable hands of Fu Zeyi who wants the land that the hotel is presently sitting on.

As soon as he gains management rights to the hotel, the two lock horns in true rom com fashion. Suddenly she’s all about family loyalty and her father's legacy. On the one hand she’s sure he’s the guy who loved her and left her a year earlier, on the other hand, he vehemently denies it knowing full well that his alter has been up to some serious hanky-panky in his absence. Besides, dissociative identity disorder is a shocking secret borne out of a childhood trauma that he'd rather not share with the world. Aside from the fledgling romance, there's also the succession issue to consider.

Fu Zeyi, as one might expect, is a right royal jerk at the start. It is hard to root for him at first because he is trying hard to keep Zhixia at bay while making sure his secret is safe. Soon, however, he finds himself inconveniently attracted to her and starts acting territorial, doing all kinds of odd things that wasn’t previously in his programming. Even his rigid and cantankerous father notices the make over. Zhixia is obviously confused by what she sees as capriciousness and more so when Fu Zeyi and Lin make her the trophy while they vie aggressively for her affections.

Xiao Kaizhong who plays both isn’t bad in the role. It's at the very least much better than what I had expected. He certainly has a roaring good time with the mayhem of the Yi-Lin dialectic without overdoing anything. He and Joey Chua have good chemistry but they are definitely underserved by the script.

Despite the obvious budgetary limitations imposed (The fabulously wealthy Fu Zheyi has only a handful of suits to strut around in), the one thing that this show does better than its Korean predecessor is to show how Zhixia gradually cottons on to the deception which sends her running. at first. Gradually, however, she works out that the arrogant Fu Zheyi is the one that she loves not because he is her ideal but because he tries to push himself beyond his limits for her sake. Fortunately for us, she has something of a growth arc and demonstrates the capacity to be much more than what she first presents herself to be.

The relationship is fraught with all kinds of moral and ethical issues in part because of the deception and in part due to the fact that the mental health issue is more of a benign plot device for the push and pull rather than a genuinely serious obstacle to two people’s happily-ever-after.

Even rom coms need villains apparently. Although Fu Zeyi was bordering on being one in the beginning as he plots to acquire the hotel, that title is reserved for someone else — someone close to him who’s out for blood but the motivation for his entire revenge scheme makes no sense except that he’s evidently gone loopy. The 20-year wait to exact vengeance makes no sense either.

What saves this drama for me is the finale. It wraps things up as well as a half-hour 18 episode web drama might be expected to. There's no lack of the nonsensical in it but at least there's resolution for Fu Zeyi and Lin. More importantly, for me at least, there's an acknowledgment that Fu Zeyi is the core personality and Lin was always just an identity that emerged to protect him. He was a by-product of a mental health dysfunction. It's a crucial piece of the romance that had to be addressed. Lin was always the fantasy never the reality -- the delusion that Zhixia was in search of and Zeyi wanted to be. The reality as represented by Fu Zeyi is about a man riddled with deep-seated guilt at what happened in the past and who was always seeking his father's approval while weighed down by all kinds of emotional baggage that he never allowed himself to express. Falling in love... it can be said... broke the shackles.

The finale is surprisingly fitting and therefore makes the entire journey worth sitting through. There's a lot that doesn't make sense and it does fall along fairly predictable lines but at least there's enough fan servicing to snack on to keep one coming back for more.

Leia Mais

Waste of a Good Premise

Sigh. What a colossal waste of so much potential. Blind wasn’t bad to the point of unwatchable but it was a waste of a good premise. Wasted, dare I say, on gimmickry (a de facto mystery box) so that in the end the narrative focus shifted from where it should have been — on the survivors of human rights abuses to the present-day murders and original villains from the Hope Welfare Centre running interference. The last half hour or so of the series was a decent wrap but not enough to save the rest of the package for me at least. It’s a shame really because the show had the opportunity to do something of substance with regards to exploring the egregious of human rights violations at the centre of the narrative but instead pandered to all the worst excesses of a K drama crime show. Corrupt cops going from bad to worse to cover their rear ends. Corrupt bureaucrats who don't see the error of their ways. Tight-lipped witnesses who have some "compelling reason" to stay mum. Over eager cops rushing headlong into situations for which they are unprepared. Incompetent cops floundering around causing problems or being designated comic relief. And frankly, not every K drama has to have an serial killing angle to it. It doesn’t always enhance a show. In this case it does almost nothing except create moral confusion about which characters to root for. The fixation to turn this into a jigsaw puzzle about who the mastermind behind the present day murders made it hard to connect with any of the characters.

The actors should get their due for powering through this and throwing themselves into this over convoluted script. This has got to be one of the worst revenge plots I’ve ever seen especially considering the competing goals of the conspirators. The so-called “mastermind” lost control of the scheme very early on which led to more of a blood bath than was intended. Count of Monte Cristo this certainly is not. It’s not even on par with the far more straightforward Taxi Driver. All throughout the script gave a very superficial impression that this was a much more complex story than it really was. In reality, putting aside all the unwanted (and clumsy) interventions, the list of suspects was always fairly short. Only a handful of individuals could be party to the conspiracy to avenge. Moreover, the jury tampering for the first trial so that everyone’s in the same place on hindsight seem completely unnecessary. Plus I’m none the wiser as to how that was so easily achieved.

On some level I don’t think it’s a problem to be over using red herrings per se if the red herrings have another purpose apart from putting the breaks on plot progression. I’m not a fan of suspense for suspense sake especially when it’s rather obvious even before the final act who the perpetrators are.

16 episodes is too long for a familiar plot like this. (Especially when it aired around the same time as May It Please the Court) The pacing is a problem. There’s a great deal of intensity in the early episodes and then it falters, picks up a little and then slows down before the big reveals in the finale. Episode 13 saw me hitting the roof especially the latter part because it demonstrated how the conspirators could have achieved their revenge in a far more efficient fashion while revealing to the world what was done to the children in the welfare centre. All of that without tainting their cause and undermining whatever moral credibility that they had as victims of an unjust system. This show could have easily been achieved in under 10 episodes easily. And the messaging would not be as compromised as it ended up being.

Leia Mais

Superhero Lawyer Origins Story

One thing’s for certain. I don’t think I would have watched this if it hadn’t been for Namgoong Min and I don’t think I would have stuck it out to the end if it weren’t for him as well. It’s not complete waste but for many reasons it never reaches its potential. Nor does it transcend its comic booky roots. When the show is good it’s fun. Even somewhat poignant. At various points in the narrative when the show transitions from arc to arc, there’s far more filler than I am personally comfortable with. I can only conclude that this project was a Namgoong Min vehicle that showcases his versatility as an actor at home with both comedy and melodrama. The relative success of the One Dollar Lawyer largely relies on the lead actor’s ability to pull off a variety of idiosyncratic or slapstick moments and Namgoong Min does his best to acquit himself in every instance.

Despite the title and the marketing campaign around this, the drama is undoubtedly a superhero origins story with detective elements. There’s very little of the legal side of things in this despite the dominant role that lawyers and prosecutors play here. The show highlights a variety of crimes but the show’s main character spends very little time in the courtroom even if he sees himself as a advocate for the voiceless. In fact Cheon Ji-hun has all the hallmarks of a superhero in the tradition of Batman and Spiderman. Indeed he is a composite of various ones that we’ve seen in the last two decades. Even the Big Bad in this instance, feels like a localized cartoon version of the Joker and the Green Goblin. Ji-hun’s above-average intelligence, perseverance and fearlessness (his superpowers) is generally what saves the day. When he leaves behind his job as prosecutor because of the death of a loved one, he immediately puts on a pair of sunglasses as if to indicate that he’s taken on the mantle left to him by said loved one. It then follows that his hairstyle, fashion sense and manner become more flamboyant as he dons the One Dollar Lawyer persona. They are his cape and cowl as it were. It’s a significant psychological moment for Ji-hun when (like Bats) the new persona becomes a mask that conceals the seething rage, inconsolable grief and the desire for revenge. But more like Spiderman, the devil-may-care personality allows him to be more ostentatious, talkative and witty. He is a man with a wound in search of a balm. There is temporary relief to be found in helping people who can’t afford to fork up for a half decent lawyer but the festering wound runs deep. In the long run the sort of clientele that he attracts as the One Dollar Lawyer serves as a reminder to him that the world doesn’t have to be that relentless battleground where the powerful run roughshod over the weak.

Much of this show is about Cheon Ji-hun’s quest to find closure and healing from the tragedies that have afflicted him in recent years. Once he gets his resolution from personally apprehending the Big Bad, this forever cements his identity as the One Dollar Lawyer. It defines him as much as he defines it. He builds the character from an empty slate and the character becomes a skin to inhabit when he transforms into the man of the people — helping those who are backed into a corner and do his eleventh hour save. It is a journey he begins because it helps him connect with his beloved Ju-yeon and her ideals. Later it becomes his own mission and ultimately a life changing decision.

His closest associates are Sa Mu-jang (the office manager) and Baek Ma-ri (probationary lawyer) who seem like an unlikely addition to the show’s primary trio. As is customary with these sorts of set-ups, Ma-ri and Ji-hun don’t get along at first because they come from different places with different life experiences. Initially it seems that the study of the law is the only thing they have in common. The practice of it, however, becomes another matter entirely. It seems to me too that the show wants to have a bet each way or leave room for a second series with regards to Ma-ri’s dynamic with Ji-hun. There’s no overt/resolved romance between them but the show teases out the idea all throughout that there could be “more” once Ji-hun moves on (or if he ever does) from his past. I’m of the view that theirs is a teacher-apprentice relationship and it’s really for the best. Clearly that’s how Ji-hun sees her. Also Ma-ri’s role in this seems to be a thankless one of following Ji-hun around, acting as a sounding board, plying him with questions and letting him show off with impunity.

Even though I enjoy much of the humour in this, the show seems to be at its best when it takes on a more serious tone. On hindsight much of the humour seems unnecessary or misplaced. There are these deliberate inserts of levity that feel random and disconnected with the larger story. Often this applies to moments where the main characters sit around and shoot the breeze. Sure, there are slow days when the trio have to wait for clients to show up so that the show can go on the road but yeah, it feels odd to have bits of random dialogue thrown in just for comedic effect. What this says to me in effect is that the world building is not as confident as it should be.

The series hits its peak at around Episode 8 and while I wouldn’t say that it goes downhill after that, it doesn’t have the same zing. It also doesn’t help that Episode 11 feels like a prolonged exercise in time wasting until the not-too-bad finale — when Ji-hun is done with his sabbatical and decides it’s time to go after the true villain of the piece.

It’s not a great show by any metric but not a terrible one either. For some it will be a hard slog in parts and some perhaps like me some will persevere to the end for the love of Namgoong Min.

Leia Mais

Melodrama Outdoes Police Procedural

In the backdrop of this part melodrama, part police procedural a determined and well-regarded young detective, Chang Zheng (Johnny Huang) has been on the trail of the notorious Zhao family cartel (founded on mining) more or less since the start of his career. That family’s grip on the city of his birth for three decades is deeply entrenched and woe to those who dig too deep for secrets. Three years earlier his father, also a cop, in his pursuit of evidence against the local juggernaut, dies under dubious circumstances. Consequently Chang Zheng has made it his life’s mission to see justice done and extricate the city from the corrupting influence of the Zhao machinery on all levers of power. Going against the family not only demands a spine of steel but also an unwavering moral compass that can withstand the onslaught of threats and temptations to look the other way.

The head and founder of the crime syndicate is Zhao Xiaosheng, the patriarch who is supported by his three sons — his oldest, Zhao Pengzhang, his third, Zhao Pengxiang and his fourth, Zhao Pengchao (Tony Yang) a lawyer recently returned from Australia. The outlier second son, Zhao Pengcheng a local prosecutor refuses to be part of the family business and ends up dead for his fervent opposition to their dealings. There are echoes of The Brothers Karamazov as none of the brothers share the same mother and are at loggerheads (with the exception of the second) because each is looking to take control of Zhao Enterprises Inc. 

The most impressive of the lot would be Tony Yang’s Zhao Pengchao who plays the long game even while he’s in Australia. With an abundance of smarts and patience he seems to be the most obvious successor as time and time again he outwits his own brothers and the police who are sniffing around at his doorstep. His stated goal is to reform the company, give it a face lift and then transfer all their assets to Australia at the first sign of trouble. On his return he quickly demonstrates who’s boss. He has all the family personnel in the palm of his hand and thwarts his brothers’ schemes. Tony Yang too gives a sterling performance here and his experience is evident.

Aside from Cheng Zheng, there are others in Changwu who aren’t on board with the status quo. Those who belong to that group tread cautiously as one misstep could cost them their lives. The city’s richest family is ruthless and it’s pure banality at this point to note that some people would do anything for real money, even betray their closest friends and loved ones.

Deep in the weeds of moralising, indoctrination and melodrama, there are certainly nuggets of an interesting story to be found. Unfortunately they are not to be found in the police procedural side of things — which is in all honesty laboured, preachy and the least exciting part of the show. There’s not a lot that happens in that regard — just chatter, editorialising and waiting for things to happen. There are far too many instances in which the narrative takes time out to sermonise over bad behaviour and even the consequences of bad parenting. Some moralising is always to be expected but when it handicaps the movement of the story the flaws in the scripting are all too clear.

This drama is for me an exemplar of all the worst excesses of Asian dramas — C dramas are the worst culprits because they seem to have the resources to self-sabotage a project. Hence, the result are plots that outstay their welcome. Apparently no one has ever heard of the aphorism about short and sweet when these scripts are penned. The storytelling is almost entirely about telling and the execution is likewise heavy handed in its use of dialogue and the repetition of facts in the interest of stretching out the material. This is undoubtedly detrimental to the pacing while the show wallows self-indulgently in taking time out to lecture its viewers about the importance of being law abiding citizens. 

It is discombobulating at first as to what this show is really about because the trailer is rather misleading. The drama is promoted as a slick crime/police procedural where the cops and organised crime come to blows. There’s certainly an element of that woven all throughout but there’s nothing particularly slick about how that almighty contest plays out. The show treads too carefully to my mind in delineating the lines between the good guys and baddies to be a sophisticated crime show. Johnny Huang’s character Chang Zheng is the archetypal “good boy” who is a role model rather than a character with much depth or breadth. There are a few surprises in store for him that gives him pause but  ultimately he never wavers from the straight and narrow. It’s not, by any stretch of the imagination, a demanding role that one expects of a male lead in his position. The story would have been far more dramatic (and intriguing) if Chang Zheng had been undercover for most of the drama having to face real temptations while having complex personal interactions with Zhao Pengchao who is so obviously posited as his opposite.

At the end of the day the show is a blatant piece of propaganda and a recruitment campaign. Its detrimental effects on storytelling are obvious. This goes a long way to explaining why the obviously the good cops are generally anodyne and the criminals from within and without law enforcement are much more fully fleshed out. It’s not so surprising then that the dysfunctionality of the Zhao family and the cat-mouse games that they play off against the cops are the highlights of this story. The straight cops are reduced largely to window dressing to remind the audience that they are the guardians of all that is “good and true”. This is why in part the police seem so slow to act, reactive, so ineffective for so long because they have to be in concert with The Message when all the chief offenders are rounded up at the end.

Leia Mais

No Honour Among Thieves

Screen productions of organized crime stories seem to have enjoyed something of a revival in the past 12 months. And yes, in most instances criminals are actually organised and savvy. More so than the police I might add. But what they lack in spades — is unity. Unfortunately the prospect of untold wealth does that to people. There's little honour among thieves. Which is something of mixed blessing for the cops at least. Wang Ziqi plays Chu Yihan, a young hot head who becomes embroiled with rival factions of the Northwestern Wolves, a powerful cartel once headed by a mysterious figure known as Gu Mulan. Yihan’s mother, Lin Ke also a cop was sent to infiltrate the organisation years earlier but disappeared along with Gu Mulan. Her whereabouts have been a mystery for 5 years. Yihan along with all her former colleagues are eager to find answers and a resolution to the case but his superiors would rather he leave this matter well alone. Su Xiaotong takes a backseat to the cops and gangsters as folk dancer Gu Linnan or Nana. She’s a peripheral figure for most of those early episodes but it’s only a matter of time before she becomes an unwilling eyewitness to how the family business operates.

The Northwestern Wolves were once a force to be reckoned with in the desert region but after a major falling out, every member of the cartel’s leadership went their separate ways. Five years later, one Lao Qiang or "Gun" re-emerges from this low trust environment and what ensues is a cat and mouse game with Yihan and the police right in the middle of the hot zone. Yihan’s mentors and superiors are leery about having him in the hot seat for a whole range of reasons but he is adamant and honestly they don’t have that many options. Wang Ziqi is definitely firing on all cylinders in a role quite different to the one he played in The Imperial Coroner. He would have to as he's surrounded by veterans. Yihan's a bit of a maverick among his peers but shines as an undercover cop. He’s a one-man fighting machine, a cut above most. But more importantly he's quick on his feet (literally and idiomatically), is capable of making stuff up as he goes and adapt accordingly. He's certainly got the swagger and bravado down pat for the role. His superiors are constantly in fear for his life and the guilt they feel about his mother’s absence is acute.

The set-up for his character and relationships with all the men who are potential paternal figures is done in a series of fast-moving action sequences. They’re after a hit man known as Long Qi and his trail leads the cops to a small eatery somewhere among the rocks sand dunes. The road to an arrest in a cop show is seldom smooth sailing. So Yihan and Long Qi are locked into one confrontation after another till he’s safely behind lock and key at HQ’s interrogation room. Yihan is close to Cheng Fan who is his father figure in the force — the man who practically raised him when his mother went deep undercover. He was also his mother’s handler. Cheng Fan has a serious heart issue -- a consequence of a bomb blast. During an investigation into some trouble that Nana encounters, he collapses.

Romance is side dish here and anyone who wants to watch this for that may end up feeling unsatiated. However, that is not to say that romance is unimportant. Instead it is spread thin and works differently within the narrative. Yihan and Nana have more of a fledgling relationship littered by obstacles due to background differences. It feels doomed to be over before it starts. Cheng Fan is pursuing marriage with Mu Xiaowan, a doctor at the local hospital who is also a single mother. Sha Xiaofei, the son of "Gun" is in a very passionate relationship with Yiy, who should be on a catwalk rather than rubbing shoulders with gangsters. In fact, it is fascinating that none of the key females here really fit the milieu. They are inadvertently dragged into the fray because of family or men in their lives. Yet, they have a strong presence in the story because they are positioned as reminders of what normality looks as opposed to violence and the illegal accumulation of wealth.

So what is this show about? On one level it is a treasure hunt. The cat and mouse game is largely over a warehouse of arms and the cartel's long lost booty. That part of the show with the scheming, double-crossing and table-turning reminds me of the US TV show Justified. It's a race to who can decipher the clues to find the loot. On another level, it is a story about family. More specifically a story about two young people who are "chasing for the truth" ie. in pursuit of the past. Nana is looking for her father while Yihan is looking for his mother. It isn't a straightforward road as they disentangle the truth from lies, half-truths and breadcrumbs. There's something of a Rushmon angle to it. Thirdly, it is a morality tale about the corrupting power of greed and its consequences not just on the perpetrators but the people who love them who get caught in the crossfire.

The great thing about this show is that everything that happens matters. The plotting is good. There are no over long stretches of dialogue that go nowhere. Or unnecessary flashbacks. It’s almost shocking that there’s no filler and the impact on the pacing is palpable. Even when I wonder if a scene or a character seems irrelevant, the story eventually arrives at an explanation. The storytelling is reasonably good. The actors are excellent. The collective experiences of the older actors in particular bring some gravitas to some obviously staged moments. Especially the men who are/were part of the Northwestern Wolves in some shape or form.

What's perhaps not as good are the production values. The budgetary constraints are obvious for the most part. There are plenty of desert car chases but no helicopters in sight. I'm not sure about the logistics of all that. But I forgive it shortcomings because I'm used to watching old tv shows and movies. And I'm quite partial to the hand-to-hand fight sequences here as well. No doubt in this kind of action adventure romp that there are occasions when suspension of disbelief is certainly required.

In the final analysis this show is a blast. Each episode is better than the last. It’s a joy for a seasoned watcher of crime telly to be caught off guard now and again but be thoroughly entertained. There’s a certain degree of unpredictability and all kinds of beautiful craziness arise when the cops and mobsters collide.

Leia Mais

A Journey of Beginnings

On a more elementary level, the show really does nothing new but what it does do with the old tricks is imbue them with a boldness and down-to-earth quality that elevates the tropisms. The show knows precisely what it is by inserting satirical elements and occasionally breaking the fourth wall but it never loses its way by drowning itself in unnecessary melodrama as it nods its way through the romance comedy tropes in relentless fashion. In 35 episodes, the show goes through the entire gamut including a six-year separation, a child and the detestable noble idiocy. It is the whole house including the kitchen sink and the garden shed. Yet it comes together somehow and seldom feels like a mere revisit of of all the usual cliches. In the final analysis the drama’s decided success lies largely in the execution of a well-considered script.

It all begins where it usually begins — a threat by a family elder but with a bit of a twist. Lu Fangning (played by the versatile Zhou Yutong) is the CEO of the family business but doesn’t have a lot of credibility with the more conservative board members. Her father thinks that marrying and producing a child will help improve her currency with the oldies so hands her an ultimatum. As might be expected, she’s not terribly keen on being tied down by a man or a child until she crosses paths with the calmly handsome surgeon, Ling Rui, acted by immensely attractive Gong Jun. She’s smitten right away but he takes a lot more convincing largely because of her domineering, brash personality. On the surface it looks like something of a role reversal initially but it is not a simple case of subversion that the drama plays up with no small amount of glee.

So what’s the good and otherwise sensible doctor’s excuse for signing on to a ridiculous marriage contract with a woman whose goals are completely different to his? Well, his youngest aunt is in debt and while he earns a good enough wage to live on, the sum that is owed is a hefty one. The other reason, however, is one he keeps to himself. He inevitably discovers… wait for it… that they have a childhood connection. Alas it’s fate and he owes her a debt of gratitude for being the closest thing to a friend during the most difficult time of his life. She might carry off the bossy bravado with defiant aplomb but he remembers that there was a heart of gold beating under it. Besides, it’s only for a year. Or until the debt is paid. While Ling Rui may look like a he’s pushover because he has a good bedside manner, he can still drive a mean bargain like the best of them.

This all sounds like a recipe for an explosive disaster and it could be except that everybody’s favourite surgeon (that’s no hyperbole) does gradually fall for Fanning’s winning albeit bombastic ways. However, being honest with his feelings doesn’t come easily for Ling Rui who is often wracked with doubts about being putty in her hands. He can’t be sure that she’s not trying to use him to further her own ends and she doesn’t know what she’s doing wrong when she’s already at her wits end. A shouting match ensues, she goes cold on him and then he resolves to woo her properly. To begin again as it were.

All is well and the show enters into phase two where the two start behaving like a genuinely loving married couple to plenty of disgusted onlookers. External obstacles come by and serve only to strengthen their bond. An employee of the company wreaks havoc and Ling Rui is there to hold her hand at every point even to the point of giving up his lifelong dream as a fellow at a medical research institution in Germany. She’s in the dark until his mother comes crying and pleading with her. Immediately Fangning is guilt-stricken, thinking that she’s really been a disturbance in his otherwise well-ordered existence. In an excessive display of martyrdom, she leaves a set of divorce papers behind, takes off in the middle of the night only to discover later that she’s pregnant. All in that order. Meanwhile Ling Rui runs around frantically in search of his missing wife in all her favourite haunts and takes his heartbroken self off to Germany.

It’s the dreaded Noble Idiocy 101 and in the scheme of things, an entirely pointless exercise because there was no reason why they couldn’t have all gone to Germany together after the debacle at the company. But then there wouldn’t be an entertaining phase three to complete this heartwarming “healing” drama.

Phase three sees the return of Fangning to the mainland because her business partner has “kidnapped” her five-year-old son, Youyou to force her hand. Little Youyou, who is a constant source of delight, has his own agenda — he wants to find his dad in the haystack of the city where his parents met and fell in love. Fortunately for him and for us, Youyou finds his dad sooner rather than later and more frivolity ensues when Ling Rui tries to insert himself into Fangning’s life via the willing conduit of their precocious son.

There’s little doubt that phase three is my favourite not just because there’s an adorable child in the mix. Cute kids in contract marriages is always a bonus. Cute kids in contract marriages spouting great dialogue beyond their years is to die for. What elevates the ludicrous nature of the entire scenario brought about by the noble idiocy of six years ago is the writers’ profound understanding of fallen human dynamics. The kind of games men and women play to protect their egos. Two people separated not by the machinations of others but by hubris disguised as well-meaning sacrifice. It’s not a burden of love as they think but an exhibition of pride — Fangning was evidently trying to outdo Ling Rui in the art of self-sacrifice. In her mind, he gave up his dream for her so now as compensation she will give up everything for him. Including him. (Note the absurd irony of the situation). As usual she was trying to outdo the competition.

Except of course that’s not how marriage works.

On some level it make sense for a couple to begin again, try and rebuild their marriage because they have a child together. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that but there are plenty of hurt feelings and guilt floating in the ether that remain unspoken for longer than is healthy. Ling Rui who is still traumatized by her unceremonious hasty departure lives in constant fear that she will do her disappearing act again. Hence all his schemes are calculated to keep her permanently close even if it means using their son. Fangning, on the other hand, is saddled by so much guilt that she can’t imagine why Ling Rui would even think to reconcile except under obligation for the sake of their son. She was a disruptive influence in his life right from the start so her desire to set him free is not without some well-meaning intent to “compensate”. On the other hand, she’s helplessly confused by Ling Rui’s newfound take-charge attitude that’s backing her into all kinds of corners. She can sense the seething resentment in the overbearing demeanour but not the fear that’s really driving things.

It is sly of the writers to turn the roots of the noble idiocy into a character flaw but that gives it a certain credibility and mileage for storytelling when Ling Rui and Fangning skirt the elephant in the room and dance around each other awkwardly before reaching their happily-ever-after. Zhou Yutong and Gong Jun are just magic together but there’s no doubt that the little Youyou played by the appropriately named Honney is the cherry on top. When they play happy family, the place is dripping with sweetness like a well-stacked pyramid of profiteroles. Besides the noble idiocy provides plenty of fodder for moralizing about how couples are responsible for the flourishing of their marriages.

The cast (which includes family members and colleagues) are well-positioned in this dense forest of personalities but it’s the leads that really hold the whole edifice (sometimes on very shaky ground) together. They are both fine actors in their own right but especially Zhou Yutong who is very good with the comedic side of things. Gong Jun when he grins mischievously with a glint in his eye reminds me of Cary Elwes of Princess Bride fame. This drama too has some of the wittiest and funniest dialogue that I’ve seen in a C drama.

The show is not without its weaknesses. It is baffling that every single C drama including rom coms feels the need for some kind of faux villain with a revenge agenda that hardly makes any sense except to throw the proverbial spanner in the works. I can’t see the character’s justification for causing as much damage as he does and I’m getting rather weary of people using grief as the rationale for fictional vengeance as if to imply that it mitigates the outcomes of the offence. I also think that the push and pull between Lu Yiyao and Cai Siyu though amusing becomes unnecessarily protracted. It’s naked plot manipulation to walk in step with the leads’ own relationship woes just as the separation trope is. I don’t necessarily object to the six year time skip because we get a lot of delightful father-son bonding but it is still what it is — bald convenience for the production that takes away from an otherwise grounded script.

Still the moralizing around marriage is one that I can largely get onboard with. Marriage isn’t two people acting as separate entities as they individually see fit. It certainly isn’t just a transaction like any other or any other relationship. “The two shall become one flesh.” Marriage is profoundly spiritual. Even when the leads make a mockery of the institution with their “business” contract, because they try to accommodate each other as they live together, they learn to love each in unexpected ways. Perhaps even to the extent of having a greater awareness than those who fall in love first and then marry. Frankly, to my mind, more than the lead couple still having feelings for each other is the more important question of forgiveness. What keeps couples together isn’t love so much as forgiveness. Unless Ling Rui and Fangning can forgive each other, they will forever be at an impasse. He can only resort to tricks and machinations to get her to stay. She will continue to walk on eggshells around him unsure where she stands with him, feeling undeserving of any second chance.

Thank goodness for friends to provide an outsider’s point of view or they’d be going around in circles forever. This is the part of the show that has the most traction with me. It’s also, I think the most realistic. Good, clear communication is undoubtedly essential in a marriage but genuine forgiveness brings some degree of healing… so that they can Begin Again.

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Cautionary Tale of Cops and Corruption

There’s something curiously exhilarating about watching a great premise and an equally great script unfold before your very eyes. Partly because it’s rare, partly because one is caught up in the rarified atmosphere of being witness to something that’s extraordinary. In a year when K dramas have been very hit and miss for me, Shadow Detective happens to be one of those unique television experiences where the story is gripping from start to finish. It’s a timely reminder of what can be achieved when writers respect the intelligence of their audiences and do the laborious work of plotting an intricate story that revolves around highly flawed but sympathetic characters. More than just another garden variety police procedural, the drama is a heartrending cautionary tale that deals with agency, guilt and consequences. Crime shows should be the perfect platform for these kinds of explorations. This show is a triumph in that regard because it puts the focus on the fundamentals such as character development and good storytelling.

The truly wonderful Lee Sung-min is Kim Taek-rok, an ageing cop doing things the hard way in his native Geumo, a bustling port city with serious crime issues. Fortunately for him, retirement is apparently round the corner. Taek-rok is a highly regarded veteran of 3 decades but is still a lowly lieutenant when younger and far less talented men have climbed through the ranks. This is because he doesn’t play the political game and is mainly concerned about doing the grunt work of catching criminals. His work ethic sees him demoted twice and passed over for promotion as he’s known to be something of a maverick within the organization. One night after a bit of pestering he finally meets with a younger colleague, Woo Hyunseok (Kim Tae-hoon) for drinks. They reminisce a little about the old days and Taek-rok presses him to reveal the whereabouts of a crime boss that he’s been “handling” for years under the tacit approval of Geumo’s chief of police Seo Gwang-su. Woo Hyunseok eventually promises to tell all and the two men part ways for the evening in varying states of intoxication. Around the same time, Taek-rok’s been pranked by an anonymous caller who eventually introduces himself as “Friend”. Things turn sinister with “Friend” when he takes responsibility for the untimely death of Woo Hyunseok. To add insult to injury, Taek-rok becomes chief suspect for the homicide and the entire station is on his tail. From that moment, the show’s central cat and mouse game begins.

Johnny-come-lately Kook Jin-han (Jin Goo), is a transplant from Seoul. As he’s about to slip into the role of chief investigation officer, he is greeted with a certain amount of fanfare on his arrival and it doesn’t take long for the cocky newcomer, who also positions himself the “outsider”, to butt heads with Taek-rok. Here the outsider trope is deployed to great effect as it is deftly woven into the trajectories of the non-conformists swimming against the tide of moral decay. Will they make it out alive or drown in the process for all their troubles? A little more wet behind the years is Kyung-chan, who has also recently made his way to Geumo from Seoul because of his admiration of Taek-rok during the latter's brief relocation to Seoul earlier. He is set up to be the overenthusiastic youngster and is positioned at the start as the stereotypical rookie.

The show very quickly establishes the characters and the world that they inhabit. Geumo City follows the template laid down by Batman’s Gotham. Drugs are a widespread problem. Corruption is rife. Over the decades the city has become the playground for a very select group of locals who have their grubby hands on the key levers of power. On the surface it seems little different to hundreds of other K dramas of its kind. But what separates this (and elevates it) from other corruption stories are the depth of the characters here compared to most. No one is truly righteous here and the result is that they all feel like living breathing human beings desperately trying not to sink into the mire of power’s corrupting influence that has them over a barrel. While the cat and mouse device might be the mechanism by which secrets are revealed, its deeper purpose is to showcase competing agendas internal and external to Geumo.

While there are intriguing puzzles that need solving, it is Taek-rok’s relationship with his team mates and fellow cops that makes this riveting viewing. While he himself has obstinately tried to live by his principles (such as they are), he has often turned a blind eye to the corruption that’s around him because longtime friendships are involved. Does that make him culpable for the sin of omission? Well, that’s a question worth hundreds and millions of won. As long as the spotlight is on Taek-rok, the show paints a raw and oftentimes comical portrait of a man possibly at the end of his career. More than once, Taek-rok is told that he is in the wrong profession. That he is too sensitive to be a cop. Indeed the man carries around a large burden of guilt and regrets on those tired shoulders especially where family is concerned.

Needless to say Lee Sung-min is just fantastic as Kim Taek-rok. Last seen in Juvenile Justice as a judge, he completely transforms himself for this role. He wears this perpetual world-weary hunched appearance while the heavy limp-like gait completes the portrait. It’s safe to conclude that all the characters are works of art in this — the show’s secret sauce. Taek-rok’s relationship with Jin-han especially is worth highlighting here because it runs the entire gamut from doubt and uneasy camaraderie to grudging respect. In so many ways despite the age difference these two intelligent but sensitive men are cut from the same cloth.

While the show ends on what could be considered a cliffhanger, this first season does stand on its own, completing an important arc and answering the most pressing questions. It’s a class act all the way in terms of cinematography, editing, storytelling and performances. Hands down, this is easily one of the best things I’ve seen all year.

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Murmurs of the Heart

By almost every objective metric, The Heart should have been one of the year’s best dramas. In truth it is the best medical drama I’ve seen so far coming out of the mainland. (Although I haven’t seen that many good ones truth be told) The script is meticulous, well-researched and the character arcs are brilliantly woven into the story. But tackling all 38 episodes is likely to be a marathon for many especially in the home stretch. It could have been China’s answer to Hospital Playlist but sadly lacks the latter’s impulse for economy as it inevitably gets bogged down by romances that it arguably doesn’t need. It’s a shame really because the series has a plenty of heart and the relationship among the three leads is one of the show’s bright spots. Moreover the patient stories and their unveiling within the show’s larger tapestry are among some of the best I’ve ever seen.

Mark Chao, Jin Shijia, Rachel Mao Xiaotong are the aforementioned leads in this slice-of-life drama a cardiology specialist centre as its backdrop. Mark Chao is Zhou Xiaofeng, a mild-mannered cardiology internist, Jin Shijia (from Under the Skin) is a cardiac surgeon Lin Yi and Rachel Mao plays Fang Xiaoran, an ICU doctor with surgical training. Xiaofeng and Lin Yi are polar opposites in temperament. Lin Yi though a talented surgeon is something of a loose canon and tends to run his mouth. Xiaofeng is a capable administrator but defers a little too much to his ethically challenged mentor. Xiaoran, on the other hand has the best bedside manner of the trio. Unknown to most of their colleagues, Xiaofeng and Xiaoran are half siblings. Their mother is a famous cardiologist Fang Zhuqing who divorced Xiaofeng’s dad when he was a boy. Mother and son are estranged from one another and part of Xiaofeng’s journey is to gradually reconcile with her.

As with all good camaraderie that is forged through fire, opposites clash at first but it doesn’t take long for them to appreciate the other’s skill set and even become a dynamic duo for more complex, multi-stage procedures. Lin Yi’s life is further complicated by the fact that he’s also the primary caregiver of an older brother who is living out the final stages of a genetic heart disease that could also afflict him at any time. It’s the sword that hangs over his head. There’s no cure for the condition but it is that which animates his embrace of medicine and his attitude towards patient needs.

A major chunk of the show is about the inner workings of the cardiology unit from the administrative side of things to inpatient consultations. It peels away the perceived glamour of the profession by featuring plausible predicaments related to short-term and long-term patients who wander around the hallowed corridors of the hospital. Right from the word “go”, it’s clear that the demand for medical services outstrip the supply. Medical staff with all their own personal baggage are overworked to the bone. Yet they are still expected to perform 110% once they put on the uniform. In that light, the drama highlights not only the limitations of medical science as it currently stands but also the enormous responsibility of clinical practice at every level. From inpatient visits to pre-surgery consults and post-operative recovery in the ICU.

In addition cardiac medicine also serves as a recurring metaphor and vehicle for a larger conversation about the importance of community not just among the medical professionals but the patients who temporarily find their place in that place. Medicine is more than a science. Everyone has a story. Strangers who occupy the same space for a period of time form a bond that have important consequences for the future. Some are pulled from the cusp of death while others never leave. But all leave indelible traces behind providing crucial life lessons.

There’s a part of me that is keen to recommend this. The production values are high. The cinematography is excellent and the casting is generally right on the money. However 38 episodes might be a slog for some and more importantly, there aren’t any good subs that I’m aware of. Still if you’re keen on a good heartwarming thoughtful drama, this could be the thing to hit the spot.

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A David and Goliath Story

Who doesn’t love an underdog triumph over the odds story? I don’t know how this gem almost eluded me but a show that features men with beards squabbling over the technicalities of the legal code is likely not to be everybody’s cup of tea. For me however this 14 episode series is a rare combination of smart, heartwarming, hilarious and just plain fun. It has me on the edge of my seat from start to finish. Moreover the courtroom drama (and there are a few) in the final two episodes of this is an exemplar of entertaining theatre.

Set during the waning days of the Ming dynasty, Zhang Ruoyun is the neurodivergent Shuai Jiamo who has a knack for figures. His obsession with the accuracy of his calculations especially in the distribution of land leads him and his best friend Feng Baoyu (Fei Qiming) down a rabbit hole of bureaucratic mismanagement and corruption. The Central Plains is a large place. The country’s capital located some distance away relies heavily on diligent and even honest officials to ensure that the people are flourishing and everyone’s paying their fair share of taxes so that the world can go on spinning. All this assumes that officials picked from the country’s intelligentsia are worth their salt and are content to humbly “serve the country”. However when the cat’s not looking, the mice get up to mischief. There’s never enough money so they collude with the gentry to defraud the uneducated peasants and increase their pieces of the pie over time hiding behind layer upon layer of red tape with all kinds of mutually beneficial trade-offs.

Ultimately the war on corruption is not fought with weapons of steel. There are plenty of weapons showcased (including a large leg of ham) but the biggest one is likely to be red tape itself. It may be used as an impediment to truth. But in the right hands it is also the salvation of the show’s protagonists. Wielded by a knowledgeable soul with conscience, it can be a tool that holds back the forces of evil to great effect.

The tragedy though is that truth and justice is the last thing that matters to most in this fray. There are fascinating modern parallels here. No one really cares that 1+1=2. In fact 1+1=2 can become 1+1=3 at the whim of a corrupt educated class determined to push forward their own agendas on an unsuspecting populace. It’s akin to Winston Smith at the end of Orwell’s 1984. If the powers that be can make you state a lie as truth, it can make you do anything.

Shuai Jiamo is the outsider in a world of competing agendas. He’s suffering trauma from an event 20 years earlier that saw him orphaned. He is the age old oak tree that stands in the midst of the storm. Immoveable. Incorruptible. A challenge to the status quo. His role in the story is to bring to light all the man-made complexities caused by a web of self-interest. His simplicity is a bulwark against the complexity. Nonetheless he can’t do it alone. He needs his friend Feng Baoyu and frenemy lawyer Cheng Renqing (Wang Yang) to help him address a wrong that has implications beyond 1+1. It is a telling indictment not just of that world but ours that the truth matters very little but boils down to how one is able to prosecute one’s arguments in such a way as to negotiate trade-offs and mutual benefits.

Without saying, Zhang Ruoyun is terrific in this and he can be relied on to pick intelligent scripts. He also has a penchant for playing quirky characters. The presence of Wang Yang is usually also a guarantee of a quality production. The other faces in this are rock solid even the youngish Fei Qiming (not exactly his first outing) really comes into his own in those last two episodes. Others will recognize Wu Gang who also co-starred with Zhang Ruoyun in Joy of Life and Zhang Fan who seems to be in every other project that I watch.

The production values are great apart from the usual obvious editing misdemeanours. It's a testament to the quality of the direction that a show that's based on palace politics and bureaucratic red tape can be as enjoyable as this.

[This review is based on one on my blog.]

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