John Master

Having avoided the Comments section for this series til now, I am curious if others have commented on the recurring use of a musical motif from the 1954 pop song "Mister Sandman." Most famously recorded by the Chordettes, the lyrics include the line, "Mr Sandman, bring me a dream. " That notion certainly ties into whatever is going on with Ai's sleep state, so I hardly think the riff is coincidental. The telltale notes, which comprise the pop tune's introductory measures, have punctuated numerous episodes, and they actualy lead the viewer into ep 6. Spanning the first 20 or so seconds of that episode, the music provides an aural cue that the scene we are about to see is not reality, but another of Ai's dreams.

Given the fame of that earworm tune, I would guess someone has pointed out its use already. But sampling those specific notes to indicate a scene belongs to a dreamscape is such a clever choice by the music supervisor (or whoever selected it) that it merits additional recognition. On the other hand, it is entirely possible that some younger fans and some international BL fans wouldn't even notice a melody borrowed from a 70 year old song....eh?

Perhaps, although the condition "really in love" can cause loss of self-awareness even in individuals normally quite composed . But on the other hand, my comment is only superficially about Shan, and at some level is really about Tutor.

I am always most bothered by a series that has a compelling premise but botches the execution. In a genre rife with formula and cliché, to see a nice idea fall short of its potential wounds the soul.

Excellent breakdown. Allow me to add this complaint:

Had Shan possessed the merest glimmer of self-awareness, he ought to have understood his considerable "swoon-worthiness" on its own would suffice to entice any guy inclined to notice other men. All that other stuff he did was superfluous.

The idea that a grown man has the same natural scent he had as a preadolescent boy suggests whoever wrote that moronic detail has no clue what either boys or men actually smell like. Or how puberty transforms the body.

Now, a twinkle in the eye? A spark of personality? A particular curve in the smile? Those are details of a preadolescent self that might (might!) remain recognizable after the raging hormones of puberty finish transmogrifying the youthful body into the adult version.

But adult Shan thinking adult Ob Aun smelled the same as the preadolescent version? That is writing that stinks.

Question not whether they execute ALL the ambition well, question whether ANY of it is done well? After all, most people can do one thing well, even if few can do it all well. Except Shen, of course. CEO, author, housemate: he excels at everything. Well, almost. Apparently, measuring salt when cooking remains a hurdle to be surmounted.

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.