Genie, Make a Wish

respect other religious

I started watching this drama with very high expectations. But sorry to say, after Episode 5 I was forced to drop it. This drama portrays many aspects related to our Islamic faith, but in a negative way, which I find offensive to our religion. As a Muslim, I was never taught by my faith to accept seeing my religion being degraded. After watching Episodes 4 and 5, the way Islam has been represented left me with no interest to continue, no matter how many high-profile actors or actresses appear in it. This drama is already controversial for its religious issues, and once again, I must emphasize that it contains concepts that go against our faith. Whether you watch it or not is up to you. Whether you like it or dislike it is also up to you. I simply explained my reason for not watching it further.

Read More

Dropped at ep9

I had been eagerly waiting for this drama, but it is not for me, AT LEAST.
I expected a magical, Aladdin-style fantasy, but that’s not what it turned out to be.
I tried to separate the story from religion and treat it as pure fiction but I am not sure what the motive was behind portraying Iblis as a sympathetic victim especially in episode 9 when the script goes like "This is how far you'd go to avoid bowing to a human". The writer could have easily used a different name instead of referencing sacred figures (Izrael the angel of death and Iblis the disobedient jinn).

Read More

Worst drama ever

“Genie: Make a Wish” is a drama that has sparked significant discomfort and criticism, especially among Muslim viewers who feel their faith has been misrepresented and trivialized. While fantasy and fiction have long drawn from mythologies and spiritual concepts, there is a line that should never be crossed — and this drama crosses it repeatedly.

Religion should never be used as a tool for entertainment or fantasy. Sacred beliefs are not props for storytelling, nor are they playgrounds for romantic tropes. In Islam, jinn and Iblis are not whimsical beings to be flirted with or fantasized about. They represent serious theological realities tied to morality, temptation, and the unseen world. Romanticizing jinn and Iblis is deeply wrong — these are sacred and serious concepts in Islam. This is not “art”; it’s disrespectful to 1.5 billion Muslims 🚫.

The drama’s attempt to blend romance with supernatural elements rooted in Islamic theology feels tone-deaf and careless. It’s not just about creative freedom — it’s about cultural and religious sensitivity. When creators ignore the weight of these concepts and repackage them as love interests or misunderstood anti-heroes, they risk distorting public understanding and offending entire communities.

Respecting others’ beliefs means understanding the boundaries of representation. It means asking: “Is this portrayal accurate? Is it respectful? Is it necessary?” “Genie: Make a Wish” fails on all counts. Instead of fostering dialogue or insight, it indulges in shallow fantasy that undermines the gravity of Islamic teachings.

Art should challenge, inspire, and reflect truth — not exploit sacred symbols for ratings. This drama is a reminder that not everything is fair game for fiction. Some things are meant to be revered, not reimagined.

Read More

PPL lasts at least 5 episodes

I do have an old account and I have my bias profile. I come here with a new acc because I don't want to get my bias involved while giving an.opinion.

Reviews up to episode 5 (Spoilers ahead)
Good things first
Visual effects - Great and totally a high budget production

Now to other things
*Storyline/Writing*
I don't know where it will be going . It is neither a heartfelt sob story, a swoony romance nor a good revenge story. It is so bland like a chicken soup without salt.
Since it is a high production drama with famous casts, famous writer, I will continue watching to know how it ends, but it is a drama with no known casts, I may have already dropped it.It is one of the dramas I want to be stubborn because I want to be clear about my opinion about the drama whether 'I Love it because it improves later ' or 'I Hate it because it is so bad' .

*Characters*
I don't feel connected neither with Genie male lead nor with psychopath female lead. Like they are strangers on the street who have nothing to do with me. Our female lead has abandonment issue ,yet I never sympathize with her. (Park Bo Gum character in 'I Remember You/Hello Monster' is a psychopath ,but I felt sorry for him.) Here,I feel nothing. Both are narcissistic individuals. I don't even understand why I should root for this couple.

Not only the leads ,also supporting characters are uninteresting -except they are plot device . There is not a particular one we should root for.
At first, I thought her grandma story would be the one that changed our female's story. But she was turned into a childish character.

*OST/Music*
There is not any memorable one up to episode 5 .

*Acting*
Nothing remarkable. Both Suzy and Kim Woo Bin can do better than that . But here they do nothing extraordinary except being models for beers and luxury brands .

Read More

I'm wondering who put a spell on me and you / How did I find myself here?

I couldn't find a real linear interpretation for “Genie, Make A Wish”; the drama seems to belong to that typical category of fantasy series that, on paper, seem familiar: an immortal genie tired of humanity, an incredibly twisted and emotionally inscrutable woman, a bet with God, wishes that end up backfiring on those who express them. Those references to 'Goblin' (and why not, considering the writer) the irony, the previous lives, the intertwined destinies, the impossible loves, the curses and the “condemnation” of eternal life...

But episode after episode – skillfully spread out over time – it became increasingly clear to me that my attempt at “natural interpretation” was not a limitation as a viewer, but rather a structural feature of the work itself. Behind the fantasy apparatus and the seemingly simple mechanics of desires, the drama constructs a system that only works as long as the viewer agrees not to reduce everything to an immediate moral or a single explanation.

If the narrative system of “Genie, Make A Wish” rejects such a univocal explanation, it is because its characters, too, probably do not function as moral demonstrations. Iblis, in particular, does not act to create conflict, but to confirm an already given idea of humanity. He is not a driving force of the story: he is an embodied thesis.

From the outset, he seems less interested in tempting than in confirming a belief. He does not offer seduction, but rather proves that humans will fall anyway. In this sense, I thought – perhaps conceptually boldly – of Satan in Milton's ‘Paradise Lost’: a figure who does not need to win, because he is already convinced that he is right.

The Iblis portrayed by the talented Kim Woo-bin – with a truly comprehensive, all-round performance, never mannered or hammy, magnetic even in his gaze and always up to the difficult task assigned to him – is in fact a “satanic” genius more in function than in actual inclination towards evil. He is arrogant, brazen, convinced that he knows human beings better than anyone else, including God. Centuries of observation, of granting wishes, of confirmation have instilled in him an unshakeable certainty: humans are corrupt, selfish, predictable. His challenge is not driven by curiosity, but by the presumption that he has already seen everything. And when you are convinced that you already understand everything about someone, you stop listening to them.

Ka-young, played by the stunning and self-deprecating Bae Suzy—with an incredibly intense and dedicated performance, that crescendo and that deep pathos of sincere emotion in the finale—enters the scene as a disconcerting, almost repulsive figure. Sociopathic, unemotional, incapable of empathy—at least according to clinical categories. Psychopathic, perhaps.
A young woman who grew up under the sign of expulsion: abandoned as a child, she is raised by her grandmother Pan-geum – played by Kim Mi-kyung, who is so talented and devoted to her role that it is difficult to distinguish between acting and real life – who, rather than teaching her how to “feel”, explains to her how to “be in the world”. She does not heal her, but provides her with rules of restraint, discipline and responsibility. The rules of conduct are not a sign of coldness, but strategies of control. Ka-young learns an ethic of behaviour even before she learns emotional grammar. Above all, she learns not to “cross the line”.

This apprenticeship shaped every aspect of her adult life. Her work as a car mechanic perfectly embodied this attitude towards life itself: cause → immediate effect; do the job well = the engine works, do it badly = it doesn't work: no ambiguity, no emotional interpretation, absolute certainty and guarantees. At the same time, she devotes herself to woodworking, building furniture and even coffins. Not out of a morbid fascination with death, but to take away the panic, to bring it back to a manipulable, measurable, concrete realm. It is the opposite of the destructive impulse: an attempt to exercise rational control over the inevitable.

On this journey, only two people truly see her for who she is. Her grandmother, who does not ask her to change, and her chosen friend — not an imposed one — who accepts her quirks without wanting to correct them. Both embody a form of relationship free of pretension: they do not ask Ka-young to be “someone else” in order to be acceptable.

And it is precisely this form of self-restraint that throws Iblis's system into crisis. When the opportunity for desire arises, Ka-young does not react as expected: she does not desire out of greed, she does not use power to fill a personal void, she does not even seem particularly seduced by the idea of being able to have “everything”. This does not make her morally superior, but narratively incompatible with Iblis' thesis. Her presence does not defeat him: it defuses him. Faced with an individual who asks for neither excess nor need, the system of human classification on which Iblis has based his certainty ceases to function.

The central conflict of the drama then seems to shift: no longer between good and evil, but between a device that claims to explain humanity and a subject that stubbornly continues to escape categorisation. Ka-young and Iblis challenge each other with five wishes: four human beings and a dog, chosen at random. No one is totally guilty, no one is completely innocent. Selfishness arises from fear, altruism comes late or with detachment.

The inclusion of a radical moral anomaly (with the extemporaneous ‘crime’ variation) interrupts any consolatory reading: evil exists, but destiny can be rewritten. In the end, a fragile and reversible majority of altruism shows that humanity cannot be either absolved or condemned. The parable is clear: human beings remain unpredictable, and the certainty of the system collapses.

In this millennial intertwining, predestination is not total: Iblis and Ka-young remain bound by a past in which a third wish has already marked love, suffering and mutual protection. Ka-young carries echoes of that experience with her, while Iblis retains only fragments erased from his memory. Yet it is precisely Ka-young's radical choice in Goryeo—to use the three wishes purely altruistically—that demonstrates that humans can escape all certainty. Predestination and free will meet in tension, transforming every decision into an unpredictable moment.

In this context, the role of Ejllael (Noh Sang-hyun, well-suited to the role and subtly ironic) becomes even more significant. He is neither good nor evil: he is neutral, the administrator of the inevitable. He doesn't judge human desires, he records them; he doesn't punish, he executes. God's messenger and Iblis's age-old rival, he observes the bet between the genius and Ka-young with silent attention. He does not intervene, but everything that happens passes through his eyes: every choice Ka-young makes, every prediction Iblis makes, becomes a mirror of what is at stake. Ejllael is not an indifferent spectator; he is an interested witness to a dualism that shakes millennial certainties, making what seemed immutable fragile and every decision more intense.

The finale of "Genie, Make A Wish", therefore, does not simply conclude the story: it completes its arc, highlighting everything the series has explored from the beginning. After Pan-geum's death, Ka-young is confronted with a pain that exceeds her capacity for understanding: a woman incapable of emotion experiences such intense grief that it disrupts the rules of her orderly life.

The encounter with Iblis thus becomes the decisive turning point: the genius fears that the third wish will confirm his view of humanity as corrupt. Ka-young, on the other hand, chooses to live human emotions to the full for just one day, even at the cost of her own demise. The paradox is clear: the act appears selfish, but it is the most authentically human gesture possible: it stems from the desire to feel, understand and confront life itself. Faced with this radical sincerity, Iblis loses the bet and bows down, giving up his pride.

In this way, the parallel destinies of the main characters become the symbolic fulfilment of the Goryeo girl's third wish: to protect each other until the end, even through pain. Their rebirth as immortal beings, Ka-young as Jinniya and Iblis as a genie, marks the conclusion of a millennial cycle of observation, bets and mistakes, transforming the test of human goodness into something different: a lesson in responsibility, freedom and a form of true love.

And this is precisely where the ultimate meaning of the ending lies. What remains is not only the story of two immortal beings united forever, but the parable of the drama itself: a journey through desires, limitations, moral codes and conditional freedom, which shows us how human beings are neither predictable nor reducible to patterns, but live amid chaos, choice and the possibility of redemption. The bet is over, but the reflection continues: in “Genie, Make A Wish”, true immortality lies not in power, but in the ability to choose and feel, even when this means accepting the burden until the end.

7 ½

Read More

La idea es original, pero la ejecución es un desastre

Yo intenté terminarla, pero hay poco tiempo disponible y demasiados otros dramas que sí son buenos. La idea era original, pero se desmorona rápidamente. Las actuaciones están bien, pero la trama es un desastre, y cada vez se pone peor, las cosas adquieren menos sentido mientras avanzan los capítulos.

La historia entre un genio que estuvo encerrado en su lámpara por mucho tiempo y quiere venganza, y una chica que nunca ha encajado del todo por su personalidad (y que, además resulta ser la nueva reencarnación del objetivo de venganza del genio) podría haber sido interesante o divertida.

El problema fueron todos los personajes secundarios, la forma en la que intentan explicar o justificar la historia de los ángeles caídos y los antagonistas es bastante absurda, no suma y cansa. Además, toda la historia lateral de la abuela que se vuelve joven por un deseo, pero igual va a morir en su hora fue aburrida y podría no haber existido en absoluto.

Read More

it's Temu Goblin.

This is by far writer Kim Eun Sook's sloppiest work until now & yet the drama is still enjoyable. To elaborate a bit more on the script, I think they wanted to make a Goblin-like fantasy show & so the writer made a similar framework for a drama that is different enough. Personally I find nothing much wrong with this. A 1000 year romance with some flashbacks & an endless opportunity for corrupting wish stories -instead of ghost stories- could've easily lead to the drama of the year, or the second best at least. The problem is that the show is really not written consistently at all, the writer's self established rules are not respected, often not even within the same episode & the finish is very variety show like in the sense that there were a great many fun skits, but none of the plot makes sense, like at all.

Also the Arabic theme is really poorly researched & feels super forced. I don't give a flying monkfish about the religious connotations, but the whole Goryeo Koreans in Arabia felt incredible weird to me, what is even more forced? Korean actors speaking Arabian & doing that a lot. I really don't know why the writer couldn't just come up with a Korean version of the genie myth, or just call genies genies, but don't explain AT ALL what they are in Korea, that would've worked too. Correction, I do know why this happened, probably there may have been a sponsorship deal with the Emirates or something similar..

The most nonsensical part of the show is FL's condition, psychopath or sociopath? or whatever else, the basic concept that she does not have emotions at all is super silly & quickly full of contradiction.

Self-censorship always bothered me in Korean dramas, there are certain themes that cannot be shown on Korean TV & this often leads to really annoying & stupid subplots. In Genie, Make a Wish this manifests in how it's possible for a foreigner to wish for endless riches, but a Korean person cannot do the same & even if they kind of do, they still have to obsessively return the money. In this drama money is returned at least 3 times, though "only" twice voluntarily.


Anyway despite all of the above why is this still a 7?
Well, basically the casting is brilliant, the visuals and the photography are also amazing & the drama is just very funny in general. So if someone is capable of shutting off their brain a A LOT, then I can totally see them loving this. Suzy is not only incredibly gorgeous in this one, but also had great chemistry with Woo Bin & their constant bickering is endless fun. I would watch a 200 episode long sitcom where these actors play an old married couple..

Read More

Schizophrenic

I watched this drama to the end. Many viewers will probably like it, but for me it was too contrived – with a unpalatable mixture of silly hijinks, gratuitous violence, sadism, ridiculous wishes, and bogus profundity. It had a convoluted plot with too many secondary characters, and a lot of elements that just didn’t come together in a cohesive whole.

In the beginning, the ML is a a big goof ball of a genie who can do anything with a snap of his fingers. Somehow he’s also Satan. He can put out a raging fire or catch someone who’s fallen off a tall building, He can appear and disappear and travel through time. He can fly, burst through the walls of buildings, and deflect bullets. No problemo.

As for the FL, she just doesn’t give two figs about anything because she’s a psychopath (or maybe not). She’s trying to be decent, but she has the soul of a killer. Why should the viewers care about either of these absurd characters? There’s nothing at stake. Neither of them want anything–-or anything substantive–-either from the world or from each other.

As the story progresses, wishes are granted, wishes are postponed, unforeseen circumstances arise. When a romance develops, it seems completely unmotivated.
When are the good people at Netflix going to hire writers who can actually construct a story with heart and nuance–one that doesn’t rely on gimmicks?

Read More