Wrote a reply to a commenter saying they couldn't understand the Netflix bashing, then found their comment had…
"Netflix dramas clearly are K-dramas"? It depends whether you think of "K-drama" as being simply an abbreviated way of saying "Korean drama", or as a specific form of drama.
The example you use - Squid Game (which I loved btw) - is obviously a Korean drama, so if you take the view that "K-drama" just means "Korean drama" then yes it is. If you take the view that a "K-Drama" fits certain criteria, then no it isn't. It is right up to the final moments, where it strongly implies a second season. Of course, a lot of K-dramas end with scenes that imply the story continues, but there's a definite "use your imagination" vibe rather than "please come back for season two ... if we decide to make it".
To me, a K-drama is a specific format of Korean drama, just as a limerick is a specific form of poetry. Can it develope, evolve, devolve, change? Possibly, in very limited ways, otherwise it ceases to be a limerick and becomes a haiku, or a sonnet, or an ode, or some other form of metered verse. I have no issue with people writing any form of poetry they like, and do occassionally enjoy reading things other than limericks, but I'd be a little annoyed if I'd agreed I had time to read a limerick, then was presented with four pages of metered verse.
Similarly, I have an expectation when watching something promoted as a "K-drama". That expectation is, primarily, that what I'm committing to watch is a finite and complete piece of work which, once I've seen it, I can move on from without worrying about when will the next season come out, if it ever does.
Instead of a long response to many of the points, I'll summarise:" K-Dramas good, Netflix bad* "(*For the K-drama…
Wrote a reply to a commenter saying they couldn't understand the Netflix bashing, then found their comment had disappeared when I tried to save. Thought I might as well add it here instead!
My Netflix bashing is driven by what they're doing to the K-drama "formula".
For me, K-dramas are wrapped up in a single series. No end-of-series cliffhanger, no second (...third, etc.) season, no "Will they? Won't they?" wait, while they decide whether it's financially worthwhile commissioning the second season they've implied by the show's ending. I don't have an issue with a series run being only eight-ten episodes instead of the traditional sixteen-twenty or so. Surely one of the advantages of streaming instead of airing on a traditional TV channel is that there's no need to worry about having a schedule to fill. Shows can be as long or as short as they need to be to tell their story, no more, no less. Likewise, individual episodes can (should!) be however long is needed. If an episode of a "one hour" show happens to under- or overrun by a few minutes, so what? There's no need to miss out important (or just interesting) plot points nor to pad it out with unnecessary material so that it fits neatly into an airtime slot that needs to be filled.
I suggest that we simply stop saying the shows Netflix offer are "K-dramas". They produce (mostly good!) dramas set in Korea, with Korean dialogue, just as they do for many Western countries. That doesn't make them K-dramas!
So glad I followed the link to this when your list popped up on one of the dramas I was looking at. Very many thanks for your efforts. I've bookmarked it so I can come back to find what isn't already on my way-too-long "Plan to Watch" list!
It's kind of disappointing because I thought he had superpowers or magic or something related to the universe,…
Er ... the word "paradox" has nothing to do with superpowers or magic, and only relates to the universe in as much as there seem to be quite a few paradoxes, if everything we think is true about it actually is.
Wikipedia: "A paradox is a logically self-contradictory statement or a statement that runs contrary to one's expectation."
And to think I nearly dropped this because the first episode, whilst good, didn't particularly grab me. I have a huge backlog of shows to watch but couldn't decide which. Easier to just watch the second episode of this. Hooked from that point on. and only took a break when I couldn't keep my eyes open any more. Loved it.
Found this something of a hard watch. So many "Why would they...?" and "Why wouldn't they...?" moments. But although I didn't go straight on to the next episode at the end of each, I was drawn back after a day or so because I needed to know what happened next. In the end, I'm glad I stuck it out. It was well-made and worth the time invested.
Have to say, though, if I'd been one of the apartment residents and I'd had a gun, very few of the other occupants would have made it past the first couple of episodes!
I'm not so sure that's true. I think after half-a-million years or so, once you'd watched and rewatched everything else ever made till you were sick of it, you might be getting kinda desperate for something ... anything! ... new. :-)
Even though the cast is strong, I still feel there's something missing. Using JCW only as a flashback guy who…
I actually love dramas that have the nerve to kill off big stars and major characters halfway through. It's all too easy to watch a fight scene or similar and think "yeah, but they'll survive, they're central to the show" which dampens the scene's impact. But when, occassionally, the major star / character you assumed would be safe suddenly falls down dead, it puts you on the edge of your seat for the rest of the show, because you can no longer be certain what's going to happen.
This is possibly Yoo Ah In's last chance for a public appearance before they cart him away to serve a thoroughly deserved life sentence for daring to smoke a couple of joints and popping a few pills. Why couldn't he have just done something sexually perverted to some innocent victims instead? That would have earned him only a slap on the wrist, before being totally forgiven.
Song Joong Ki should be number one on this list, obviously. He can still convincingly play a fourteen-year-old character, and everyone knows he has a halo of golden light around him when you meet him IRL.
The example you use - Squid Game (which I loved btw) - is obviously a Korean drama, so if you take the view that "K-drama" just means "Korean drama" then yes it is. If you take the view that a "K-Drama" fits certain criteria, then no it isn't. It is right up to the final moments, where it strongly implies a second season. Of course, a lot of K-dramas end with scenes that imply the story continues, but there's a definite "use your imagination" vibe rather than "please come back for season two ... if we decide to make it".
To me, a K-drama is a specific format of Korean drama, just as a limerick is a specific form of poetry. Can it develope, evolve, devolve, change? Possibly, in very limited ways, otherwise it ceases to be a limerick and becomes a haiku, or a sonnet, or an ode, or some other form of metered verse. I have no issue with people writing any form of poetry they like, and do occassionally enjoy reading things other than limericks, but I'd be a little annoyed if I'd agreed I had time to read a limerick, then was presented with four pages of metered verse.
Similarly, I have an expectation when watching something promoted as a "K-drama". That expectation is, primarily, that what I'm committing to watch is a finite and complete piece of work which, once I've seen it, I can move on from without worrying about when will the next season come out, if it ever does.
My Netflix bashing is driven by what they're doing to the K-drama "formula".
For me, K-dramas are wrapped up in a single series. No end-of-series cliffhanger, no second (...third, etc.) season, no "Will they? Won't they?" wait, while they decide whether it's financially worthwhile commissioning the second season they've implied by the show's ending. I don't have an issue with a series run being only eight-ten episodes instead of the traditional sixteen-twenty or so. Surely one of the advantages of streaming instead of airing on a traditional TV channel is that there's no need to worry about having a schedule to fill. Shows can be as long or as short as they need to be to tell their story, no more, no less. Likewise, individual episodes can (should!) be however long is needed. If an episode of a "one hour" show happens to under- or overrun by a few minutes, so what? There's no need to miss out important (or just interesting) plot points nor to pad it out with unnecessary material so that it fits neatly into an airtime slot that needs to be filled.
I suggest that we simply stop saying the shows Netflix offer are "K-dramas". They produce (mostly good!) dramas set in Korea, with Korean dialogue, just as they do for many Western countries. That doesn't make them K-dramas!
" K-Dramas good, Netflix bad* "
(*For the K-drama genre generally. Most of their actual shows I've watched are good.)
Google has a useful, and easy, translate function.
Wikipedia: "A paradox is a logically self-contradictory statement or a statement that runs contrary to one's expectation."
Have to say, though, if I'd been one of the apartment residents and I'd had a gun, very few of the other occupants would have made it past the first couple of episodes!