Kenpachi_Azashiro

While I write this text, I am on the 13th episode of the drama. I had already commented, on another occasion, on how difficult it is to successfully blend drama and comedy - and I make this observation with those who do not seek mere entertainment for entertainment’s sake in mind. I know that most people look for entertainment as an escape or relief from the real world; for that type of viewer, most works - or almost anything - will suffice. This comment is not directed at them. The problem arises when this attempt at blending results in something repetitive, obvious, and structurally fragile. The story of Vincenzo is far from solid. There are, indeed, isolated moments that work, both in the dramatic and comedic fields, but they exist only as detached fragments rather than as organic parts of a cohesive whole. When placed side by side, these elements do not complement each other; on the contrary, they clash and weaken the narrative. The characters from the building fulfill a function that is exhausted well before the midpoint of the drama. From that point on, they exist merely as artificial obstacles designed to prolong the story. It is evident that they will still have some relevance near the conclusion, but this comes at a high narrative cost, one that compromises the pacing and the progression of the plot. The main villain makes a good initial impression, sustained by an effective sense of mystery surrounding his identity. However, once the reveal occurs, there is no shift in tone or deepening of his character: he remains essentially the same caricatured figure presented earlier, lacking presence and aura. The three characters who orbit around him follow the same pattern - unchanged since their introduction, functioning solely through narrative convenience and predictability. Sustaining twenty episodes while facing the same antagonists, without any escalation of threat or complexity, is problematic. As a result, I have already started skipping some scenes, especially those involving the building’s residents. Given this overall picture, it is difficult to believe that the work can improve in any significant way.

If you want to watch it for the romance, you will be disappointed, the drama is bigger than that. We follow several characters as they face their pain, traumas, choices, and reconciliations. Each arc reflects real life: pregnancy in youth, grief, depression, family conflicts, broken relationships, old friendships, and attempts to begin again. The drama doesn’t idealize life, it shows how it can be imperfect, difficult, beautiful, and bitter at the same time.
More than a romance, it is a story about emotional healing, empathy, and human connection, where each character carries a past and slowly learns how to live with it.

The man is her ex-husband, and the boy is their son. The male lead (Lee Dong-Seok) becomes very shaken when he sees this scene because they had arranged to meet, but her ex shows up with their son, and seeing her there with her family triggers a very deep emotional pain in him. That’s why he avoids answering her calls and ends up driving at high speed, it’s an impulsive reaction to the pain, not anger toward her. It’s not really about her “allowing” the ex to touch her hair as if they were still a couple. Min Seon-Ah is in a deep state of depression, and at that moment her son is basically the only light in her life. The male lead slowly becomes another source of comfort for her, but not in an obvious romantic way. Her relationship with her ex-husband is marked by guilt, trauma, and the inevitable bond they share because of their child, so there’s no romantic intention in that interaction. She even explains everything to Dong-Seok later on.
In short:
She has a son with her ex-husband; she and Dong-Seok do not form a “normal” romantic couple; their relationship doesn’t have an explicitly romantic ending, it is only suggested. Their story is much more about emotional healing from a painful past than about traditional romance.

I’ve finished it. Overall, the drama is good. Except for the first story, the others are quite interesting, even with their flaws.

Okay. I’ll push myself to watch a few more episodes.

I’ve watched two episodes so far, skipping several scenes in the second one, and I still managed to get irritated. The guy from the bank is just too pathetic, and the woman who owns the fish shop and the café is annoying. Their interactions are getting way too much screen time. And the boat captain being interested in that kind of woman? Seriously…
Honestly, is it really worth continuing to go through this painful beginning?

The themes explored and the central case are genuinely interesting, but it is evident that much of the plot relies on irrational decisions made by the characters. On several occasions, the story only progresses because someone behaves illogically — such as granting greater power to a declared enemy — which seriously undermines the narrative’s credibility.
Oh Soo Jae’s trajectory is initially compelling as she faces the consequences of her choices; however, the ending opts for a “happy resolution,” which weakens the dramatic impact. The revelation that the young girl is her daughter is also poorly executed: there is no visual or emotional construction of this event — we never see the pregnancy, the birth, or even the child’s body. Instead, the information is simply delivered verbally, and the character accepts it immediately, with little psychological mediation or believability.
Finally, the unilateral and devotional romance is the weakest element of the series. The male lead, despite holding that title, lacks dramatic presence and rarely exercises any meaningful narrative function, making it difficult to take the romantic arc seriously.
In summary, Why Her? presents strong ideas and socially relevant themes, but it is weakened by poorly developed characters, implausible narrative choices, and a structurally inconsistent romance.

I thought Baek Seung Yoo (Melancholia) would be the worst male lead in dramas, since he’s an obsessive stalker, but Gong Chan (Why Her?) actually surpasses him. The character has no power, no social relevance, and no authority. He’s just a lunatic who lives entirely for Oh Soo Jae (Why Her?), like an accessory. Of course, Baek Seung Yoo (Melancholia) is the same in that sense, but at least he had some power, exercised active influence, and his presence affected the power dynamics of the story, not to mention other abilities that allowed him to confront the “enemies” in his universe. Gong Chan (Why Her?) has nothing.

Ótimo texto.

The early episodes focus on parallel cases that, although they help establish tone, atmosphere, and character dynamics, lack deeper structural relevance. While they contribute to pacing and ambience, these cases do not engage in a consistent or logical dialogue with the central arc. Although individually interesting, they fail to integrate into the narrative body of the main case. Their removal would not compromise the overall story, revealing narrative padding and resulting in more than five hours of wasted screen time with limited overall payoff. However, once the plot begins to prioritize the serial murder case spanning decades, the drama definitively finds its true strength and identity. Both villains (Mok Jin-woo and Jung Ho-young) are well constructed, thoroughly developed, and layered with psychological complexity. Alongside Park Kwang-ho, Kim Sun-jae, and Shin Jae-yi, they drive the narrative in an almost impeccable manner, significantly elevating tension and dramatic engagement.

It is important to clarify that, despite involving time travel, Tunnel does not focus on scientific rigor or detailed explanations of the phenomenon. The tunnel functions merely as a narrative device, used to connect past and present. The true interest of the work lies in the resolution of the central mystery and in how the investigation articulates trauma, memory, and violence through the serial murders.

Overall, it is difficult for a drama with a similar premise to reach the level of Signal. Even so, Tunnel has merits of its own: it builds a solid central case and delivers a sensational ending that justifies the investment, despite its initial structural flaws.

It doesn’t feel like I’m watching the same drama anymore. The first five episodes were outstanding, featuring a gradual and well-crafted development of the relationship between Baek Seung-yoo and Ji Yoon-soo, along with a strong treatment of the core themes: extreme parental pressure in education, manipulation of results, ego-driven competition among parents, and institutional abuse and corruption. Baek Seung-yoo’s backstory is well developed, explaining his emotional withdrawal and melancholic personality, while Ji Yoon-soo emerges as a source of light in his life. From episode 8 onward, however, the series loses its strength. The time skip is far too short and undermines plausibility: the former students still look like students rather than teachers. Worse still, Baek Seung-yoo is mischaracterized and begins to behave like a stalker. His reunion with Ji Yoon-soo, which should have felt natural and inevitable, is forced, with intrusive close-ups that come across as ridiculous.

But let’s see how it unfolds.

I haven't finished it yet, but it gets drastically better from episode 7 onwards.

I quite like this style of plot, even though it's bad most of the time, but with Lee Dong Wook it's complicated. I consider him one of the worst actors since Goblin; he has no expression at all, he seems very stiff, and I don't know if it's worth giving him a chance.

After k-dramas became world-famous, this awful plot where men remain obsessed with the modern female character is becoming increasingly common. The male characters are stuck in time, never getting involved with anyone, and in many dramas they remain in the same city, while the female character has already been with everyone, gotten married and everything else, even lives in a big city, and incredibly things go wrong for her, and she has a guarantee, which is the sucker who waited for her, lol. Simply bizarre.

One of the worst K-dramas I've ever seen.

It seems like false advertising.

There's a huge difference between a character being unbearable and a bad character. The best example of this is Shinji from EVA, who is an extremely annoying character, but very well written. The same is true here. Joo Won is petty, arrogant, and blindly believes in evidence, laws, and human justice. Over time he improves and ceases to be as unbearable as he was at the beginning, but he's definitely not one of my favorite characters.

Han Joo Won is definitely an unbearable character.

Interessante...

Parece interessante.