A Prefabricated Family (2024)

A Plot that Betrays the Title

This review is not for you if you haven’t watched the show. It’s a rant—an emotional outpouring—but one I believe the community of fans needs to hear.

Finishing this show was exhausting! I’ve read several reviews, yet none seem to address the glaring issue I had with it.

At first, I was captivated by the premise. The show laid a strong foundation, introducing three main characters with compelling backgrounds. It beautifully conveyed the idea that family isn’t about blood or legal ties—it’s about love and connection. I wholeheartedly agreed.

But then came the 10-year time skip, and the show completely derailed. One particular moment sealed my disappointment—Hae-jun makes an offhand joke about marriage that, in hindsight, foreshadowed the troubling path the story was about to take.

Is family just a joke in this show? How do you go from being family to being lovers?

“As long as they’re not blood-related,” some might argue. But don’t you see? That logic only works if they were never truly family to begin with. If they genuinely saw each other as siblings, the idea of romance wouldn’t just be uncomfortable—it would be unthinkable.

The relationship between a brother and sister is fundamentally non-romantic. If Ju-won really saw the San Ha as a brother, she should have consistently shut down his feelings. Instead, within an episode or two, she agrees to date him. I kept asking myself, Do you realize you’re falling for the man you called your brother your entire childhood?

The show started with a powerful message: family is more than blood or legal ties. But in the end, it contradicts itself. Hae-jun struggles with the concept of a chosen family and only finds peace when his biological mother returns. Meanwhile, San-ha and Ju-won end up romantically involved. So what was the point of it all? In the end, blood and documents still define family in this story.

Perhaps this is a cultural difference, but as an African, I know family to be sacred. It isn’t something shallow. It is taboo to even introduce the idea of romance within family.

And that brings me to my final realization: they were never truly a family. They were just close neighbors who played house as children. The show never truly encapsulated what its title promised.

I was honestly too irritated to enjoy the rest. The only way I could finish was by mentally erasing their childhood memories—because otherwise, it was unbearable.

Leia Mais

This remake didn’t get the memo.

First off, yes, I’m going to compare this to the original. Why? Because it’s a remake. Comparisons come with the territory—it’s like covering a hit song. If you can’t hit the high notes, people will notice.

The Korean version tried to capture the heart of the original but ended up feeling underwhelming and, frankly, unnecessary. The original Chinese version delivered on every level, which allowed its more frustrating plot points to be forgiven. This remake? It didn’t earn that grace.

What I Liked

The acting. Bae Hyeon Seong absolutely nailed his role, bringing nuance and charm to a character that could have easily felt flat. The rest of the cast did their best, but even strong performances couldn’t save a series that lacked emotional punch and coherence.

What I Didn’t Like

Sanha’s Mom: Overpowering the Whole Series
In the original, she was cruel and manipulative, but her role served a purpose. Here? She’s like an invasive species, taking over the entire show, making everyone miserable, and facing zero consequences. No remorse, no punishment, nothing. She just packs her bags, skips the country, and is probably off to destroy her daughter next (no way that poor girl grows up without serious mental health issues).

And the best part? Sanha never even gets to confront her! Instead, he spends his last scene on his knees, begging at her slammed door. What’s next—a thank-you card?

Dad of the Year (or Decade?)
How does a dad let his son rot in a toxic hellhole for 10 years? They live a few hours apart! What’s the excuse—bad traffic? His indifference is baffling, and it makes his character entirely useless. Sanha’s dad is like furniture in this show—he’s there, but no one knows why.

Forgiveness on Fast-Forward
Then there’s Hea Joon’s “forgiveness” scene. His mom abandons him for 20 years, and after a single chat, he’s ready to let it all go? That’s not an emotional breakthrough—it’s just lazy writing.

Romance? What Romance?
Most of the romantic subplots felt like someone flipped a switch and said, “Okay, you two are in love now.” No build-up, no chemistry, no explanation. Dal’s affection was the only one that felt remotely believable, while the rest were as random as strangers in an elevator deciding to get married.

Juwon: What Happened to Her?
Young Juwon was vibrant and full of personality, but her adult version? A shadow of her former self. She had one great moment confronting Sanha’s mom, but the writers snatched it away before it could mean anything.

Pacing and Storytelling
The pacing had two speeds: snail and chaos. Either nothing happened, or everything happened all at once. The narrative felt unbalanced and disjointed, as if the writers had no idea how to structure the story.

Missing the Heart of the Original
The worst offense? This remake forgot to be about family. The original had warmth, heart, and a genuine “found family” vibe. Here, that emotional core was nowhere to be found.

Family by Choice is a watered-down remake that lacks the bittersweet realism of the original. It felt like the writers forgot what made the original so compelling in the first place.

If you loved the original, skip this. If you didn’t watch the original, skip this anyway.

Leia Mais