I reported that review as being offensive because that kind of attack on the actress's appearance is unrelated…
I reported it as well. I hope others do the same and that the comment gets removed. It’s really sad, and it doesn’t provide any information about the elements that actually need to be evaluated.
I will miss the Peanut House and its unique, cozy design. I will miss Subak, the spoiled little “child” of our beloved main couple. I will miss the wooden partition, which suffered through the couple’s antics but later became a beautiful headboard. I will miss Doha — his stubborn, passionate, creative way of being, and how he loved fixing broken things… I will miss Ha Gyeong — the feisty, pouty girl who seemed tough on the outside but, once you broke through her walls, was soft and affectionate on the inside. I will miss the second couple, and how they filled a part of the story while showing us personal growth… I will miss Patan — the beautiful village, the residents…
Thank you, Last Summer. In all your imperfections, you were perfect to me.
I honestly think you thought about the story more than the writers did so kudos to you.
At no point did I say that the female character is some kind of clever peculiarity created by the writer. I simply said that the author intended to write her this way. Just like authors create villains, heroes, or psychopaths. Ha Gyeong is like that — strange, like a six-finger glove. I’m not saying people need to like her or appreciate her personality.
Your interpretation of Do Ha is very surface-level. You’re forgetting that he has known her for 17 years, and that he discovered her true feelings through the letter on the tree. He never said he would fight for her forever. He set a clear limit to his efforts. He has until August 31st. Until the end of summer.
That’s not obsession — it’s determination, and the desire to live something he knows is possible, because the love is there.
Maybe you prefer men who are proud, who think that fighting for a woman or admitting their feelings is humiliating. Maybe Do Ha’s kind of love isn’t well-received nowadays, when relationships are more “liquid” and fragile.
Do Ha was never aggressive with the lawyer or with Ha Gyeong when he found out about the supposed relationship. He simply dismissed the lawyer’s services, explained that when it comes to her he doesn’t act maturely, and that he wouldn’t play fair. He made it clear he wasn’t ready to give up yet.
I respect your frustration with the story, but I also notice that people’s standards for this romance are extremely high.
I honestly think you thought about the story more than the writers did so kudos to you.
I can actually prove that the screenwriter is fully aware of everything. He communicates all the issues we criticize through the characters themselves.
For example: he intentionally created Ha Gyeong to be strange and awkward (the six-finger glove), and yes, she is stubborn and a bit childish, and she hasn’t changed much over the years (the other characters point this out all the time). But we eventually discover that this is just a self-protective façade. She does feel things — deeply — and she genuinely loves the community she lives in.
The writer also knew Doha would be labeled as “obsessive.” In episode 8, Ha Gyeong even calls him that. He defends himself with sarcasm. And in the end, we learn it’s not obsession at all — he simply knows that Ha Gyeong’s true feelings are different from what she shows on the surface, and that he has to keep trying. Giving up would only prove her right — that everyone leaves her eventually.
The screenwriter knew there would be criticism regarding the lawyer’s ethics. The topic is addressed in the story, and the professional relationship is broken…
It’s all there. The writer is fully aware. And he chose to take that risk — crafting a story where the timeline isn’t linear, where explanations are revealed slowly, and where the characters are deeply flawed.
Oh my God, I just realized thanks to my comment below... Ha Gyeong has walls, spikey barbed wire walls around…
There are so many metaphors throughout this series. Then I looked up the legend of the Summer Triangle. Someone mentioned it down there, so I went to research it. It’s incredible how every element was intentionally placed in the story. Even the children of the Weaver Girl and the Cowherd are represented by the tree and the little dog. It’s amazing.
** Do Ha is the Cowherd. Ha Gyeong is the Weaver Girl. Do Young is Deneb. (Jongma and Subak are Do Ha and Ha Gyeong’s children.)
I’m not sure in which episode Do Young talks about this, but I remember they were looking at the stars.
The screenwriter of this series was very optimistic in believing that most viewers would have the patience to piece together the puzzle he created with Doha and Ha Gyeong’s relationship. He added countless mystical elements (Pandora’s box, the legend of the constellations, mythology, behavioral psychology…). There are many subtle nuances that the audience accustomed to typical romantic comedies is not used to seeing. This type of viewer will not understand the poetry behind it, and they certainly won’t stop to research the topics mentioned.
For the general audience, all of this will go unnoticed, and they’ll think it’s just unnecessary dialogue. They’ll keep asking, “When is the romance going to start? When will they kiss? When will she get over that annoying trauma?” and so on. Last Summer was incredibly bold and, unfortunately, will be misunderstood by those who stay on the surface of the story and believe that any trauma or pain can be healed with a simple blink of an eye or the arrival of a new day.
This story is for people who appreciate works like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind...
Episode 8 was great! It had elements of comedy, drama, and romance. Doha’s jealousy was actually kind of cute. I was worried it would be embarrassing 🤭. It was so funny at the beginning of the episode when she told him he was being obsessive 😂. And then he reminded her of all the other things she had already labeled… I’m excited again. I’m even looking forward to the next episodes. Last Summer is a roller coaster of emotions. One day I love it, the next I hate it; sometimes I’m angry at the female lead, other times at the male lead. I’ve already realized I’m definitely not going to be bored with this drama.
Despite the clichés present in every romance, I found this story interesting up until episode 5. It seemed to be a plot about reconciliation. And I love the fact that Doha longs for Ha Gyeong so deeply and so clearly. I understood that the revelations would unfold gradually and that the narrative would show the characters’ growth throughout the episodes.
However, after the sixth episode, it has become difficult to tolerate Ha Gyeong’s behavior. The viewer gets no moment of relief with her. It is always the same childishness, the same dilemmas, and the same complaints. She sees only herself and her own speculations and theories. She feels more like an antagonist than the heroine of the story.
And the screenwriter is fully aware of this, as all the other characters repeatedly imply that she is indeed that way.
Her scene with the lawyer in episode five is quite revealing. He says that after working several cases with her, he needs to explain everything very carefully to avoid misunderstandings, because she is distrustful, suspicious of everything, jumps to conclusions, has confirmation bias, forces narratives, and trusts nothing.
The lawyer’s assessment is perfect! And I ask myself: why did he decide to get involved with a woman he knows has several emotional (and behavioral) issues and who deeply loves another man? Does he want to be the hero who saves her from acting like someone who is eighteen? Does he really believe she behaves this way solely because of Doha? That is absurd! This behavior has absolutely nothing to do with Doha. It is irrational to blame someone else exclusively for her emotional lack of control.
And then we have the ending of episode six, which was so sad and disturbing. In that conversation with the lawyer, she describes her relationship and encounters with Doha using a terrible analogy: she says they both “live in the mud” when they are together.
I would understand this if we were talking about a couple with twenty years of marriage who had been through countless problems. But they were friends; they had only a yearly 21-day summer story that seemed light and fun. Yes, he lied; she may choose not to forgive him (her right), but calling the relationship “mud” is such an anticlimax.
What is the screenwriter’s intention with this?
I have no idea how they will fix this. Honestly, I don’t. The story feels much more like a melodrama than a healing romance. In truth, it is not the relationship that needs healing — the one who needs to heal is Song Ha Gyeong. She is not ready to be with anyone.
I will miss Subak, the spoiled little “child” of our beloved main couple.
I will miss the wooden partition, which suffered through the couple’s antics but later became a beautiful headboard.
I will miss Doha — his stubborn, passionate, creative way of being, and how he loved fixing broken things…
I will miss Ha Gyeong — the feisty, pouty girl who seemed tough on the outside but, once you broke through her walls, was soft and affectionate on the inside.
I will miss the second couple, and how they filled a part of the story while showing us personal growth…
I will miss Patan — the beautiful village, the residents…
Thank you, Last Summer.
In all your imperfections, you were perfect to me.
Your interpretation of Do Ha is very surface-level. You’re forgetting that he has known her for 17 years, and that he discovered her true feelings through the letter on the tree. He never said he would fight for her forever. He set a clear limit to his efforts.
He has until August 31st. Until the end of summer.
That’s not obsession — it’s determination, and the desire to live something he knows is possible, because the love is there.
Maybe you prefer men who are proud, who think that fighting for a woman or admitting their feelings is humiliating. Maybe Do Ha’s kind of love isn’t well-received nowadays, when relationships are more “liquid” and fragile.
Do Ha was never aggressive with the lawyer or with Ha Gyeong when he found out about the supposed relationship. He simply dismissed the lawyer’s services, explained that when it comes to her he doesn’t act maturely, and that he wouldn’t play fair. He made it clear he wasn’t ready to give up yet.
I respect your frustration with the story, but I also notice that people’s standards for this romance are extremely high.
For example: he intentionally created Ha Gyeong to be strange and awkward (the six-finger glove), and yes, she is stubborn and a bit childish, and she hasn’t changed much over the years (the other characters point this out all the time). But we eventually discover that this is just a self-protective façade. She does feel things — deeply — and she genuinely loves the community she lives in.
The writer also knew Doha would be labeled as “obsessive.” In episode 8, Ha Gyeong even calls him that. He defends himself with sarcasm. And in the end, we learn it’s not obsession at all — he simply knows that Ha Gyeong’s true feelings are different from what she shows on the surface, and that he has to keep trying. Giving up would only prove her right — that everyone leaves her eventually.
The screenwriter knew there would be criticism regarding the lawyer’s ethics. The topic is addressed in the story, and the professional relationship is broken…
It’s all there.
The writer is fully aware.
And he chose to take that risk — crafting a story where the timeline isn’t linear, where explanations are revealed slowly, and where the characters are deeply flawed.
Then I looked up the legend of the Summer Triangle. Someone mentioned it down there, so I went to research it. It’s incredible how every element was intentionally placed in the story.
Even the children of the Weaver Girl and the Cowherd are represented by the tree and the little dog. It’s amazing.
** Do Ha is the Cowherd.
Ha Gyeong is the Weaver Girl.
Do Young is Deneb.
(Jongma and Subak are Do Ha and Ha Gyeong’s children.)
I’m not sure in which episode Do Young talks about this, but I remember they were looking at the stars.
He added countless mystical elements (Pandora’s box, the legend of the constellations, mythology, behavioral psychology…). There are many subtle nuances that the audience accustomed to typical romantic comedies is not used to seeing. This type of viewer will not understand the poetry behind it, and they certainly won’t stop to research the topics mentioned.
For the general audience, all of this will go unnoticed, and they’ll think it’s just unnecessary dialogue. They’ll keep asking, “When is the romance going to start? When will they kiss? When will she get over that annoying trauma?” and so on.
Last Summer was incredibly bold and, unfortunately, will be misunderstood by those who stay on the surface of the story and believe that any trauma or pain can be healed with a simple blink of an eye or the arrival of a new day.
This story is for people who appreciate works like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind...
I’m excited again. I’m even looking forward to the next episodes.
Last Summer is a roller coaster of emotions. One day I love it, the next I hate it; sometimes I’m angry at the female lead, other times at the male lead. I’ve already realized I’m definitely not going to be bored with this drama.
However, after the sixth episode, it has become difficult to tolerate Ha Gyeong’s behavior. The viewer gets no moment of relief with her. It is always the same childishness, the same dilemmas, and the same complaints. She sees only herself and her own speculations and theories. She feels more like an antagonist than the heroine of the story.
And the screenwriter is fully aware of this, as all the other characters repeatedly imply that she is indeed that way.
Her scene with the lawyer in episode five is quite revealing. He says that after working several cases with her, he needs to explain everything very carefully to avoid misunderstandings, because she is distrustful, suspicious of everything, jumps to conclusions, has confirmation bias, forces narratives, and trusts nothing.
The lawyer’s assessment is perfect! And I ask myself: why did he decide to get involved with a woman he knows has several emotional (and behavioral) issues and who deeply loves another man? Does he want to be the hero who saves her from acting like someone who is eighteen? Does he really believe she behaves this way solely because of Doha? That is absurd! This behavior has absolutely nothing to do with Doha. It is irrational to blame someone else exclusively for her emotional lack of control.
And then we have the ending of episode six, which was so sad and disturbing. In that conversation with the lawyer, she describes her relationship and encounters with Doha using a terrible analogy: she says they both “live in the mud” when they are together.
I would understand this if we were talking about a couple with twenty years of marriage who had been through countless problems. But they were friends; they had only a yearly 21-day summer story that seemed light and fun. Yes, he lied; she may choose not to forgive him (her right), but calling the relationship “mud” is such an anticlimax.
What is the screenwriter’s intention with this?
I have no idea how they will fix this. Honestly, I don’t. The story feels much more like a melodrama than a healing romance. In truth, it is not the relationship that needs healing — the one who needs to heal is Song Ha Gyeong. She is not ready to be with anyone.
I will keep watching out of curiosity.