This review may contain spoilers
I am here for the Plot…. But really
Overdo is, at its core, a story in which the plot should be the driving force. And that is precisely why it is such a shame that the editing, cinematography, lighting, and music undermine the series so severely. There is actually a compelling story here, and the characters are well written and emotionally interesting. I was genuinely invested in the plot.
And, of course, Chang Linghe and Wang Churan are beautiful and currently among the most striking stars in the industry. The makeup and costumes are equally gorgeous and, in many cases, exceptionally well executed. My criticism is therefore not primarily directed at the actors themselves, but at the way their faces and emotions are presented on screen. This is where I found the production particularly difficult to engage with.
As far as the performances are concerned, I actually think both leads did a good job. The complexity of their characters is not easy to portray. One aspect I particularly appreciated is something that often frustrates me in dramas: characters who have experienced severe trauma, especially during childhood, do not necessarily behave like emotionally mature adults. Trauma does not simply disappear because someone has grown older.
I actually found Changyi's characterization fascinating for precisely that reason. He is a rather pitiful man who has allowed his pain to become the organizing principle of his entire existence. His conviction that he is fundamentally worthless determines so much of the way he behaves. Chang Linghe handled this surprisingly well. His character is not particularly likable, and that childishness could easily have become irritating, but here it felt like an intentional part of the characterization. He is not the stereotypical cool, powerful Marquis who effortlessly controls everyone around him. He is someone who has suffered profoundly and has never really experienced love. His emotional immaturity is therefore not simply a character flaw; it is part of the tragedy of his life.
Unfortunately, the production repeatedly works against this characterization. The editing, camera work, lighting, and especially the sound design constantly interrupt emotions that should have been allowed to breathe. At times, it almost feels as though you can hear the director saying, "Look dramatically into the distance," while the camera then proceeds to frame the moment in a way that completely misunderstands the emotion of the scene.
And then there is Wang Churan — wow, girl, she is genuinely stunning. I really liked her interpretation of the character. She plays another traumatized and emotionally broken person, someone who has learned to protect herself through distance and emotional restraint. At the same time, she has this closeness to Changyi but keeps distance and Wang Churan conveyed that contradiction very well.
In particular, I appreciated how she portrayed love that cannot be expressed verbally: the inability to say what she actually feels, the deliberate creation of distance, and the constant tension between wanting intimacy and being afraid of it. Changyi, meanwhile, desperately needs that closeness and desperately wants her, while simultaneously directing so much anger inward at himself. I thought both sides of this dynamic were convincingly constructed.
This is also why I find some of the criticism directed at the two actors difficult to understand. This is not a conventional "happy wife, happy life" type of drama in which one emotionally healthy person simply comes along and saves the other. The story deliberately refuses that trope, and that is one of the things I liked about it. Not every love story has to follow the same emotional blueprint. Sometimes it is refreshing to see a relationship between two damaged people who are not magically healed by falling in love.
The supporting characters were also, as others have already pointed out, far from one-dimensional. They are not simply divided into heroes and villains. The mother, the father, the brothers, and the wider family all have emotional depth, and the supporting cast did a great job bringing that complexity to life. I love them all… That is another reason I liked the male and female leads: the world around them is similarly complicated.
I also thought it was genuinely bold for such a highly anticipated drama to engage with subjects such as violence against women and children, human trafficking . Those are difficult topics, and I appreciated that the drama was willing to address them rather than retreating into a safer and more conventional romantic narrative.
Unfortunately, even here, the visual execution constantly frustrated me. The shots simply do not work for me.
What felt flat and frustrating was not the acting — it was almost everything surrounding it.
Let me start with the music and sound design, because this was probably my biggest technical frustration. Sometimes the sound effects are so heavy-handed that they would feel excessive even in a children's movie. There is, for example, this recurring use of little fairy-like sounds whenever "the penny drops" or a character suddenly realizes something. These effects are supposed to underline a glance or a moment of understanding, but they are completely unnecessary. Instead of trusting the actors and the scene, the production keeps telling us what we are supposed to feel.
And then there are conversations where the soundtrack seems to go through an entire emotional checklist: sad music, then dramatic music, then romantic music, then angry music — sometimes all within the same conversation. It becomes distracting rather than emotionally supportive. The sound effects often feel like generic, freely available stock sounds that someone quickly downloaded from YouTube. It simply does not feel professional.
Sometimes the dialogue itself should be enough. The emotion between the lines should be allowed to exist without being constantly amplified by manipulative music cues and sound effects. If two actors are having an emotionally charged conversation, I want to watch their faces, listen to their voices, and pay attention to what they are not saying. I do not need a sound effect telling me that this is supposed to be an important moment.
The cinematography is another major problem.
I can see what they were trying to do. There seems to be an attempt to borrow from film noir and to create something theatrical — almost as though the characters are performing on a stage inside a highly stylized world. In theory, that could have been an interesting visual concept.
But the execution is often bizarre.
This is supposed to be a Republican-era setting, yet the lighting frequently looks as though someone has installed a modern LED ceiling light directly above the actors. Even supposedly candle- or lamp-lit night scenes are often illuminated with extremely obvious frontal lighting. It destroys the atmosphere and, more importantly, makes the actors look strangely flat and artificial. The lighting frequently feels historically implausible as well as visually unconvincing.
Then there is the apparent attempt to make everything look "modern" or artistic by constantly filming through something: smoke, blurred foregrounds, tiny windows, gaps, holes — basically anything that obstructs the image. Once in a while, this can be effective. When it becomes a visual language used throughout an entire drama, however, it becomes exhausting.
The excessive softness and artificial blur are not aesthetically pleasing to me. Some camera movements feel unnecessary, others completely mismatched to the emotional rhythm of the scene, and occasionally the visual metaphor does not even work on a conceptual level. Instead of drawing me further into the story, the camera repeatedly reminds me that someone behind the camera is trying very hard to make the scene look "cinematic."
And that is ultimately my biggest frustration with Overdo: I can see the ambition.
There is clearly an interesting story underneath all of this. There are complicated characters, genuinely difficult themes, strong performances, beautiful costumes and makeup, and a romance that deliberately refuses to be emotionally simplistic. I actually think there is something quite courageous about the drama's willingness to portray two traumatized people without turning one of them into the emotionally mature savior of the other.
But so much of that potential is buried underneath production choices that constantly interfere with the material.
And regarding the ending: no, it does not always have to be happy. Life does not always give people beautiful endings, and I am perfectly fine with a drama acknowledging that. In fact, I appreciate it when a story has the courage not to force a conventional happy ending simply because the genre expects one.
I should probably read the novel, because at this point I genuinely want to understand how this story works in its original form. Because honestly — how can an entire production crew take so much potentially great material and make so many baffling choices?
The story deserved better.
The actors deserved better.
And, most importantly, the audience deserved to be trusted enough to feel the emotions without having them constantly explained through bad music, excessive sound effects, theatrical lighting, intrusive camera tricks, and editing that repeatedly seems to work against the performances.
The frustrating part is that underneath all of this, Overdo is actually a story I wanted to watch.
And, of course, Chang Linghe and Wang Churan are beautiful and currently among the most striking stars in the industry. The makeup and costumes are equally gorgeous and, in many cases, exceptionally well executed. My criticism is therefore not primarily directed at the actors themselves, but at the way their faces and emotions are presented on screen. This is where I found the production particularly difficult to engage with.
As far as the performances are concerned, I actually think both leads did a good job. The complexity of their characters is not easy to portray. One aspect I particularly appreciated is something that often frustrates me in dramas: characters who have experienced severe trauma, especially during childhood, do not necessarily behave like emotionally mature adults. Trauma does not simply disappear because someone has grown older.
I actually found Changyi's characterization fascinating for precisely that reason. He is a rather pitiful man who has allowed his pain to become the organizing principle of his entire existence. His conviction that he is fundamentally worthless determines so much of the way he behaves. Chang Linghe handled this surprisingly well. His character is not particularly likable, and that childishness could easily have become irritating, but here it felt like an intentional part of the characterization. He is not the stereotypical cool, powerful Marquis who effortlessly controls everyone around him. He is someone who has suffered profoundly and has never really experienced love. His emotional immaturity is therefore not simply a character flaw; it is part of the tragedy of his life.
Unfortunately, the production repeatedly works against this characterization. The editing, camera work, lighting, and especially the sound design constantly interrupt emotions that should have been allowed to breathe. At times, it almost feels as though you can hear the director saying, "Look dramatically into the distance," while the camera then proceeds to frame the moment in a way that completely misunderstands the emotion of the scene.
And then there is Wang Churan — wow, girl, she is genuinely stunning. I really liked her interpretation of the character. She plays another traumatized and emotionally broken person, someone who has learned to protect herself through distance and emotional restraint. At the same time, she has this closeness to Changyi but keeps distance and Wang Churan conveyed that contradiction very well.
In particular, I appreciated how she portrayed love that cannot be expressed verbally: the inability to say what she actually feels, the deliberate creation of distance, and the constant tension between wanting intimacy and being afraid of it. Changyi, meanwhile, desperately needs that closeness and desperately wants her, while simultaneously directing so much anger inward at himself. I thought both sides of this dynamic were convincingly constructed.
This is also why I find some of the criticism directed at the two actors difficult to understand. This is not a conventional "happy wife, happy life" type of drama in which one emotionally healthy person simply comes along and saves the other. The story deliberately refuses that trope, and that is one of the things I liked about it. Not every love story has to follow the same emotional blueprint. Sometimes it is refreshing to see a relationship between two damaged people who are not magically healed by falling in love.
The supporting characters were also, as others have already pointed out, far from one-dimensional. They are not simply divided into heroes and villains. The mother, the father, the brothers, and the wider family all have emotional depth, and the supporting cast did a great job bringing that complexity to life. I love them all… That is another reason I liked the male and female leads: the world around them is similarly complicated.
I also thought it was genuinely bold for such a highly anticipated drama to engage with subjects such as violence against women and children, human trafficking . Those are difficult topics, and I appreciated that the drama was willing to address them rather than retreating into a safer and more conventional romantic narrative.
Unfortunately, even here, the visual execution constantly frustrated me. The shots simply do not work for me.
What felt flat and frustrating was not the acting — it was almost everything surrounding it.
Let me start with the music and sound design, because this was probably my biggest technical frustration. Sometimes the sound effects are so heavy-handed that they would feel excessive even in a children's movie. There is, for example, this recurring use of little fairy-like sounds whenever "the penny drops" or a character suddenly realizes something. These effects are supposed to underline a glance or a moment of understanding, but they are completely unnecessary. Instead of trusting the actors and the scene, the production keeps telling us what we are supposed to feel.
And then there are conversations where the soundtrack seems to go through an entire emotional checklist: sad music, then dramatic music, then romantic music, then angry music — sometimes all within the same conversation. It becomes distracting rather than emotionally supportive. The sound effects often feel like generic, freely available stock sounds that someone quickly downloaded from YouTube. It simply does not feel professional.
Sometimes the dialogue itself should be enough. The emotion between the lines should be allowed to exist without being constantly amplified by manipulative music cues and sound effects. If two actors are having an emotionally charged conversation, I want to watch their faces, listen to their voices, and pay attention to what they are not saying. I do not need a sound effect telling me that this is supposed to be an important moment.
The cinematography is another major problem.
I can see what they were trying to do. There seems to be an attempt to borrow from film noir and to create something theatrical — almost as though the characters are performing on a stage inside a highly stylized world. In theory, that could have been an interesting visual concept.
But the execution is often bizarre.
This is supposed to be a Republican-era setting, yet the lighting frequently looks as though someone has installed a modern LED ceiling light directly above the actors. Even supposedly candle- or lamp-lit night scenes are often illuminated with extremely obvious frontal lighting. It destroys the atmosphere and, more importantly, makes the actors look strangely flat and artificial. The lighting frequently feels historically implausible as well as visually unconvincing.
Then there is the apparent attempt to make everything look "modern" or artistic by constantly filming through something: smoke, blurred foregrounds, tiny windows, gaps, holes — basically anything that obstructs the image. Once in a while, this can be effective. When it becomes a visual language used throughout an entire drama, however, it becomes exhausting.
The excessive softness and artificial blur are not aesthetically pleasing to me. Some camera movements feel unnecessary, others completely mismatched to the emotional rhythm of the scene, and occasionally the visual metaphor does not even work on a conceptual level. Instead of drawing me further into the story, the camera repeatedly reminds me that someone behind the camera is trying very hard to make the scene look "cinematic."
And that is ultimately my biggest frustration with Overdo: I can see the ambition.
There is clearly an interesting story underneath all of this. There are complicated characters, genuinely difficult themes, strong performances, beautiful costumes and makeup, and a romance that deliberately refuses to be emotionally simplistic. I actually think there is something quite courageous about the drama's willingness to portray two traumatized people without turning one of them into the emotionally mature savior of the other.
But so much of that potential is buried underneath production choices that constantly interfere with the material.
And regarding the ending: no, it does not always have to be happy. Life does not always give people beautiful endings, and I am perfectly fine with a drama acknowledging that. In fact, I appreciate it when a story has the courage not to force a conventional happy ending simply because the genre expects one.
I should probably read the novel, because at this point I genuinely want to understand how this story works in its original form. Because honestly — how can an entire production crew take so much potentially great material and make so many baffling choices?
The story deserved better.
The actors deserved better.
And, most importantly, the audience deserved to be trusted enough to feel the emotions without having them constantly explained through bad music, excessive sound effects, theatrical lighting, intrusive camera tricks, and editing that repeatedly seems to work against the performances.
The frustrating part is that underneath all of this, Overdo is actually a story I wanted to watch.
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