This review may contain spoilers
**The White Olive Tree: A Heart-Wrenching Tale of Love, War, and Trauma**
*The White Olive Tree* is a drama that leaves a lasting emotional impact, blending military themes with a deeply personal love story. While the series has its strengths and weaknesses, one undeniable highlight is the outstanding performance of Chen Zhe Yuan as Li Zan.
Chen Zhe Yuan’s acting truly set him apart from the rest of the cast. His ability to embody Li Zan’s trauma, particularly his PTSD, was remarkable—not just through dialogue but through his expressions and body language. His performance conveyed the weight of his character’s suffering in a way that felt incredibly raw and real. The fact that the actor himself admitted to getting emotional and even crying over Li Zan shows how much he cared for and fully became the character. Every smile, every tear, and every moment of silent anguish felt authentic, making his portrayal one of the drama’s strongest aspects.
Liang Jie, who played Song Ran, also delivered a strong performance, but her character was at times frustratingly written. In the earlier episodes, she often came across as too dependent on Li Zan, almost like a lapdog, which made her character feel weaker than she should have been. However, towards the later episodes, she grew into her own pain and developed more depth, which made her character arc more compelling.
The plot itself had both high and low points. The first half of the drama was gripping—it kept me on the edge of my seat, bringing intense emotions and making me eager to watch the next episode. However, after the accident that caused Li Zan’s PTSD, Song Ran’s eye issues, and Li Zan’s hearing problems, the pacing took a hit. The episodes started feeling unnecessarily long, with not enough plot progression, making the 38-episode count seem excessive.
A major issue in the storyline was the unrealistic depiction of psychological recovery. Both Li Zan and Song Ran were diagnosed with severe PTSD and other mental health conditions, yet they were somehow allowed to return to the field. While it made sense for Song Ran as a journalist, it was completely unrealistic for Li Zan as an explosive engineer. Realistically, someone with his condition would have undergone extensive psychological evaluations over months, if not years, before being cleared to return. The way the drama glossed over this crucial aspect of military protocol was frustrating and made certain plot points feel forced.
However, the story picked up again after they returned, bringing some of the best acting moments from Chen Zhe Yuan. His portrayal of Li Zan’s internal struggle—the pain of witnessing destruction, loss, and death—was gut-wrenching. The depth of his suffering was palpable, especially in scenes like the hospital breakdown and the kitchen moment where he hesitated to kiss Song Ran due to his missing fingers. These moments were incredibly powerful, telling a thousand unspoken words through his expressions alone.
One of the most touching scenes was when Song Ran read Li Zan’s thoughts and words about her—his love, his pain, and his desire to be with her. When she assured him that they would always be together, no matter what, it became clear that the drama would diverge from the novel’s original ending. This change felt fitting, as it gave them a moment of happiness before their final decision to leave behind their pain and suffering together. Their love story was tender, sweet, and heartbreaking—Li Zan truly loved Song Ran, and despite her at times needy nature, she deeply loved him in return, ultimately following him when she knew his pain was too much to bear alone.
Ben’s character was another standout, and his tragic fate was heartbreaking. His death, and the sight of his headstone, reinforced one of the drama’s most poignant messages: in war, no one truly wins. Some die on the battlefield, some succumb to their injuries, others survive but carry wounds that never heal, and some—like Li Zan and Song Ran—are ultimately unable to escape the weight of their experiences. War leaves no one untouched, and even those who live through it are changed forever, haunted by memories they wish they could forget.
Li Zan as a character left a deep impact on me, and I know I will always remember him. Even days after finishing the drama, I still feel pain for him and his suffering. His struggles, his sorrow, and the weight he carried continue to linger in my heart. More than anything, I wish him true happiness, even if only in another life. Whenever I see a beautiful olive tree, I will think of him—of his smile when he was truly happy, playing in the water with his friends and being with Song Ran. That moment of joy, fleeting as it was, is how I want to remember him.
Overall, *The White Olive Tree* was a beautifully tragic drama with powerful performances, particularly from Chen Zhe Yuan. While the pacing and certain plot points could have been handled better, the raw emotion, stunning acting, and deep themes made it an unforgettable watch. The romance was delicate yet devastating, and the show’s ultimate message about the scars of war was profound. If you’re looking for a drama that will move you to tears and leave you reflecting long after it ends, *The White Olive Tree* is worth watching.
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