John Master

Has anyone noticed the full Cast and Crew listing?

There are eight categories of crew/behind the scenes listed off before the cast listing begins. That level of thoroughness is unusual at MDL. Occasionally, all eight of these categories appear may appear, but seldom all at once. Director and screenwriter, most frequently. But most MDL pages omit most of them. Don't think I've ever seen all eight included in the credits for a single series on MDL.

But here's the thing. The Trainee is set at a production company. Our titular trainees are immersed in the very sorts of labor these folks are paid to do. So, now I'm wondering how many of these folks are GMMTV old-hands who have avatars in the characters of the show. Not one-for-one representation likely, but in a "spirit animal" kind of way. Anyway, in so far as the series itself is depicting the creative process and work steps that show how tv gets made, the MDL page for this series is giving credit where credit is due. Nice touch by whoever is responsible.

Why is this concept hard?

INTERN: I like you. Do you like me?

MENTOR: Let's keep this professional. So long as I am your supervisor, I care about your
progress. Your growth. Your success. But that's what I'm paid for. Don't confuse that attention with personal feelings.

I'm not aiming this barb solely at The Trainee. The Trainee is just the most recent disconnect between contemporary workplace values and retelling traditional tropes (Prince/Cinderella, Rich Suitor/Poor Suitor) in new ways. The tension inherent to power differential has a long history in romantic storytelling. But I think global attitudes about people in power abusing their power (or the potential for them to do so) has shifted within the last decade or so. There is still space for a series to depict a workplace romance. But maybe not between the most vulnerable, least powerful figures (interns) and their immediate supervisors. (E.g., if Jane was a supervisor in one department, and Ryan interned in another, the basic storyframe could remain in place--but this objection would have virtually no force.)

Unless it is good precisely because it is telling multiple stories and is not (never was intended to be) a story with a single "main couple." (Go ahead and grouse about how it was marketed as a BL or that GMMTV delivered something other than what people expected. I won't argue against that.) If it had been a main couple story, could we not assume it might have ended as bland as Cooking Crush?

To put it another way: I also find myself suprised by the quality of the writing and direction. I also find myself surprised by the inattention to the romance I was expecting. I am surprised to see "side" characters get so much screen time. But I actually think the latter may be a chief contributor to the first.

Also, let me commend you for this top-notch, A-grade snark:

"Not one of them comes across as being hesitant in showing that the screenwriters writers have absolutely no idea what they're doing."

Burying a blunt, harsh dig at the screenwriters behind a veneer of polite commentary on the acting performances? That is how one softens the blow of harsh criticism. A masterful turn of phrase that exemplifies the veritable epitome of Southern charm.

Well, you (more than about anyone else) knows how highly I prize story (originality of concept & tightness of plotting & thoroughness in world building) and character development (arcs & growth & believability) when evaluating a BL series. Far more important to me than the acting, cinematography, or skinship scenes. Those qualities are not irrelevant, certainly. But story and character make or break a series for me. Watching cute characters flirt for 50 minutes? Usually not my cup of tea. (Which begs the question why i enjoyed We Are so much?)

So it probably won't surprise you if i say this series has me flummoxed so far. I dont mind the extensive, pervasive fanciful bits that overshadow the "real world" scenes. (I can excuse those as part of an original concept and a unique bit of world building. Literal world building, as it happens given the titular Writers are crafting a story within the story.) But the scriptwriters arent even making a good faith effort to tell a coherent "real world" story. Aside from the obvious crush that you highlighted (we get it: Shan is into Ob Aun), all these characters remain ciphers. And we dont know WHY Shan is so into Ob Aun, because the writers have chosen to release backstory details in a miserly fashion.

Now, after that extensive lede, we arrive at the point that prompted me to respond: while watching e 4, I found myself thinking that for all the incoherence of the "story" so far (and I use that appellation grudgingly), it does seem the actors are having a ball performing it. So i think your post highlighted a strength of this series when you observe the actors are all in.

"It's an insightful representation of the inner workings of an introvert's mind, showcasing the tug-of-war between the desire for new experiences and the comfort of familiarity."

That is a good take. EXCEPT, the Angel and Devil devices they chose to portray the inner workings have a clear right/wrong, good idea/bad idea association. An Angel/Devil conversation works very well when a character experiences a moral quandary and needs to sort out what is the RIGHT course of action. When there's no moral dimension to a problem, sometimes Devil/Angel also works for determining a WISE course of action. The tug-of-war tension you ascribe to Diew's inner world--which I think captures what an introvert would struggle with--does not lend itself to the angel/devil dichotomy unless one wishes to judge extroversion and inversion as a choice between right/wrong or wise/foolish. (If I recall, the devil was urging Diew to be more adventurous?) The devil/angel as used here were legible enough to get what the writers were going for. But I still think resorting to the easiest (most obvious) form of this "portray inner world" trope amounts to lazy writing.

Anyway. I found the depiction of Diew's inner struggle to be on point for this plot. And a useful way to show the audience how Diew thinks. I did not think Devil/Angel was the best way to embody this abstraction because Devil/Angel carries baggage conveying right/wrong.

The Rebound. E 11 penultimate

Sayeth the Wizard Gandalf to the Dire Balrog, "You shall not pass!" Gives his own life to ensure the outcome.

Sayeth Zen's Grandmother to the Dire Curse of the Penultimate, "You shall not pass! Or dribble! Or dunk! Or, especially, rebound!" Makes dessert and dinners to ensure the outcome.

Your Review: "If you ask me why [I ABSOLUTELY ATE THIS SHIT UP], I honestly couldn’t tell you."
My Review [comments section]: "This particular review was born of asking myself a similar question almost from the first episode. 'Why is such an empty-headed story making me feel so happy?'"

Your Review: "The best part of this is by far the friend group."
My Review: "If We Are has any particular genius it would be the depiction of a friend group."

Your Review: "If you’re a plot driven person, this show might drive you crazy because nothing really happens in it. "
My Review: "Only the most demanding viewers—the ones who want food for thought to accompany their sweet confections—will lament the gaping hole where dramatic or thematic complexity would normally be situated."

Great minds...thinking alike. Your pithy, one-sentence summary outdoes mine though, I think:

Your Review: "if you enjoy a bunch of idiots being idiots and having a great time together, then this might be for you."
My Review: "We Are serves a steady diet of treacly moments between boys smitten with one another: scene after scene, episode after episode. Frankly, it works." [See? I needed two sentences!]

I graduated from high school in '86, so if that number references Natalie's birth year, then we come from wholly different generations. Yet our perspective on the entertainment value of this review aligns pretty closely.

Lordy. That Heinz ketchup reference invokes a 1970s advertising campaign so old and stale, you may as well have kept it bottled up.

Under the Oak Tree (Vietnam, 2024) exudes a queer authenticity that We Are lacks. Yes, I will stand behind that statement. But that perk will not motivate everyone reading this review. So, fair to note also...

--it is also a low-budget production, with low-budget production values. (Personally, I give such series a lot of rope. How well do they do with their limited resources?)
--its troupe of actors is as unpolished as one might expect from the budget. (Wooden acting by young professionals is endemic among BL series. No more egregious here than elsewhere.)
--its story skips along rather easily and conveniently at times. (Budget is no excuse for a sloppily told story.)
--its plot includes many of those overworn tropes that irritate BL viewers, including a classic jealous female character. (Angst-free, the middle episodes of this series are not.)

If those traits do not appeal, skip Under the Oak Tree. Nevertheless,....

--the characters are very earnest and sincere. (+ +)
--the romance works sweetly. (+ +)
--it depicts a high school friendship circle, but one far more dysfunctional than the circle of friends in We Are. (+ for drama; - for angst).
--it is a proper musical. Not simply a series with a lot of music. As in, characters sing songs to express their inner turmoil, to advance the plot, or to communicate with one another. (+ + + +)
--they sing well. and often. (+ +)

In short, Lynn will watch. For the music alone.

💄 This series works for me! Why?

Ironically, this particular review was born of asking myself a similar question almost from the first episode. "Why is such an empty-headed story making me feel so happy?" The review is my answer to that odd question. For someone like me, who prizes story above all other considerations, the absence of any meaningful attempt to tell one should have left me disillusioned. Instead, well, that's an indication cast and crew got everything else pitch perfect.

Bonus commentary:

--on queer "authenticity": in the finale episode's beach scene, a character emerges from the sea and plunks himself down on the beach next to three friends. Landing heavily on his derriere, he comments, "Oh, my butt hurts." He said what now?! In every gay circle I have ever belonged to, anyone uttering those words would be subject to immediate and ceaseless razzing and teasing. We, his friends, would be merciless in our ridicule. Even (perhaps, especially) when the context was other than sexual. If the boyfriend were near by, we'd razz him, too. Here, another character (Chain) shoots the speaker "a look," but otherwise lets the expression pass without remark. Eschewing the obvious jokes might represent deference to the limits of taste on television, but it absolutely makes those characters seem less gay. For a series that routinely portrays these friends getting in one another's grills, mocking when warranted, the failure of that phrase to elicit a sustained rise from his peers stands as a fumbling of how real gay men would react in that situation. Sure, it's a small detail to quibble over. But, often, it is the tiny details that carry the greatest weight in establishing authenticity.

I don't mind at all. If "your mistake" was intended by me as a rhetorical device (softening the blow to GMMTV fans becuse the real "mistake" is the studio's), then it was perhaps not the best-chosen phrase for purpose (appears to leave you hanging out to dry). And in my personal past track record of commentary, there are plenty of examples of my using someone else's well-intended reply to a criticism to further vent whatever spleen a particular episode incited to boil over. So, I totally get how my comment set off another round of critique. In fact, I actually enjoyed your reply to my comment more than the original comment.

And, for the record, I actually am enjoying Wandee a great deal. That enjoyment, however, does not stop me seeing the validity of your criticism, even if the shortcomings of Doc and Boxer don't bother me to the same degree. Now, "Only Boo," on the other hand...."pointless 'hurdle[s]'," "unearned" resolutions, inauthenticity, stringing together sweet moments on skeletal outlines, "squander[ed] opportunities," failure to "pick a lane," competing voices struggling for control of the narrative....All the things we've cited above as flaws for this series did drive me batty on that show. More so than here. Why one more than the other? Can't say, really.

However it came across to you, the phrase "your mistake" was not me disagreeing with you or underestimating your ability to unpack the fluff GMMTV manufactures. It was my way of indirectly leaning into my own critique of the GMMTV business model. But since your defensive retort accomplished that goal more tartly, with deeper sophistication, I'll just encourage anyone else reading this to re-read your reply. And, if anyone doesn't grasp the significance of "heteronormative fantsasies" or "stifle feminine agency," then please google those phrases!

I agree with all you wrote. But your mistake was thinking GMMTV is interested in story. Any GMMTV series exists only to package cute moments between characters that will make 75% of the audience squeal in delight. Because "the moment" fits their preconceived notion of sweetness. The company just strings together a bunch of "sweet moments" wrapped around a skeletal story outline and based off skeletal characters. Get enough of those and call it a series. Story development, character development, or realistic depictions of difficult subject matter ever exist only to speed us along to the next cute moment--and never are allowed to overshadow cute moments. Not for long, anyway. From that perspective, GMMTV is excellent at understanding what its core audience wants/expects. And Wandee Goodday is delivering some high quality "moments."

Put another way, I think you could apply this critique to any GMMTV series. Just swap out the character names. More or less applies to all of them. Some do it better than others.

I don’t much care for Theory of Love. But the climactic scene of episode 11, set on the platform of Hua Lamphong Railway Station, has earned its legendary status. In My Stand In, the climactic scene of episode 9, set on the sidewalk outside Hua Lamphong Station, bids for similar status. Coincidence? Two series, produced five years apart, using the same Bangkok landmark? For purely cinematic reasons? (It's plausible. The grandeur of the building—inside or outside—definitely enhances each scene.) But is there also a substantive connection beteen these two scenes? Not in plot, of course, but in feel? Did the makers of the later series intend the location as an indirect callback to the earlier famous scene?

Episode 11 is the penultimate episode of Theory of Love, and this scene clears the decks for "all to be put right" in the finale. At time of writing, MSI has three episodes left to run, but the entirety of Episode 9 seems to be doing the same. The funeral itself began the process by forcing Joe and Ming to let go of the first Joe. Here, at the end, they confront each other. One suspects some kind of fresh start will ensue over the final three episodes. MSI has left itself more space for the story to play out, but in both episodes, the scene at Hua Lamphong appears to be setting up the endgame for the lead characters.

Let’s compare how each plays out. Then you decide if it is a coincidence:

Theory of Love (2019, episode 11 4/4)
Khai waits all day on the platform for his friends to join him for a trip to the sea. No one comes. But still he waits. His friends are not coming, though. When Third realizes where Khai is, he rushes to face him. At some level, Khai must understand he has alienated everyone who cared about him due to his own toxic behavior. He wants to repair the rift, to start anew. But he carries on as if nothing is wrong, refusing to see reality. Confused, Third asks, “Why, Khai? Why are you still waiting?” (9:50) It’s a gut wrenching moment. Arguably, the most emotionally charged scene of the entire series. In the next episode, it is revealed that the rift owes in part to a misunderstanding. The scene in ep 11 ends with Third embracing Khai--Out of pity. Final shot: the camera pulls back from the pair, embracing on the platform, for a wide shot of the whole train hall.

To replay: Third arrives at the station starting at 7:34

My Stand In (2024, ep 9)
Ming has waited years to meet Joe again. He wishes to resume a broken relationship with Joe, but Joe wants nothing to do with him anymore due to his past toxic behavior. He even bails out of a moving vehicle…right in front of Hua Lamphong Station. Ming rushes after him. He believes a misunderstanding drove a wedge between himself and Joe, and he wants to clear that up. Ming promises the future will be better. He wants to start anew. Joe stands firm. It is too late, Ming has squandered his chance. Arguably, the most cathartic moment in the series to date. Ming refuses to see reality. The scene ends when Ming grabs Joe from behind (naturally!). To keep Joe from leaving, he sustains the embrace--Out of desperation. Final shot: the camera pulls back from the pair, embracing on the sidewalk, for a final shot of the whole train station.

To replay: Ming chases Joe down at 54:57, exactly as the train station enters the frame.

The reply below this post will contain spoilers for Theory of Love (which, reasonably, should affect no one here) but also for My Stand In (ep 9). The point of connection is Hua Lamphong Railway Station, which features prominently in the climactic scene of episodes from both series. In both cases, the pertinent scene depicts an emotionally powerful "moment of reckoning" style confrontation between the lead characters.

[This is the only message board I consulted. No idea if this comparison has occurred elsewhere If it occurred to me, others must have spotted it, too.]

Ming has kept that space as if it were a shrine to Joe. I wager there's a hairbrush in there, exactly where Joe left it on his final morning.

Well, that would be a solid reason to title it that way. In fact, I am drafting a review just now, and I literally just wrote that the drama-within-the-drama was exceptionally well handled in this series. That'd be another way to give the faux-BL prominence. But Japan must use some version of military time I am unfamiliar with, because I'd have thought after 24:00 (midnight) comes 00:01 (12:01 am). 25:00 is, for me, a head scratcher.