5
41
2
1
3
1
1
1
This review may contain spoilers
A concept home high in design, but lacking in character
--Review--
At first glance, WIHSS seemed delightfully distinct from the predictable layout of idol dramas with their cookie-cutter tropes and 50-shades-of-pink ethos. The ML Yu Yu, an arrogant interior architect, bludgeons sensibilities with his acerbic quips and genuinely prickly personality. On the other end, we have the FL Gu Yejia, a veteran doctor whose grounded confidence, discerning compassion, and independent outlook defy the conventions of girlboss cosplay and parental machinations of blind date ambushes.
The polished production and cinematography escort you through a visual excursion of Shanghai—from vintage record shops to terraces overlooking its glitzy skyline. The shots are subtle yet elegant, and the scenes are rich in detail, but never pretentious. In particular, YY's home sets the vibe of pristine, controlled solitude, a fitting space for his idiosyncrasies and neuroses. The music underscores the mood and doesn't try to crash the party. Throw in some witty dialog, humor, and a crippling hemorrhoid and this show was looking like a bespoke design that could have been crafted under the exacting standards of Yu Yu himself.
Unfortunately, after settling in for a few episodes, the distinguished first impression turned out to be more of a stylish showroom than a lived-in abode designed for actual people. YY's patchwork of idiosyncrasies feels more like a projection that conveniently flashes for scenes and gags than a cohesive personality whose quirks have left a deep imprint in the world around him. He oscillates between offending others through obliviousness and firing off socially observant zingers. He’ll display OCD-level rigidity about certain habits and work details, then turn strangely nonchalant about things you’d expect him to obsess over. It's not a demand for YY to act as a robot, but an indictment of the writers who did not craft a character based on the solid foundation of flesh and blood, with connective tissue linking personality and behavior. Perhaps the writers tried to pull a hautism (handsome-autism) gambit to keep the ML charming enough to not completely repel the audience. But for me, this only amounted to half-baked characterization and putting lipstick on a hemorrhoid. And handsome-hemorrhoid still begets ... hemorrhoid.
This oversight doesn’t just shortchange the audience of a unique character and story, but denies us a fresh angle on life. We don't truly get immersed in YY's unique world of looking at things, the cost of his sacrifices against convention, or his way of relating to and valuing others. Yes there will be moments where he defies his prickly exterior and does nice things for others, but they come off as momentary gestures without deeper roots or reflection. Subsequently, this issue also spills over to YY's relationships, including with his assistant Lin Sa. Like his other relationships, there are reactions, but they resemble tepid ones from a six-month intern rather than a decade-long assistant. You don't get the accumulated exasperation, reflexive countermeasures, and tormented fondness you'd expect from someone who has survived so long in this professional marriage.
Gu Yejia also doesn’t change for the better. She quickly goes from a doctor with measured compassion to a Mother Teresa figure with inexhaustible patience for both Yu Yu and his neighbor Xiao Man. How the two become instant friends, beyond plot convenience, is still a mystery. GYJ presumably doesn’t have many friends because she’s busy, not because she’s never encountered needy people before. And Xiao Man’s primary traits seem to be that she’s confused and a drinker. If the missing pieces in GYJ’s life were truly healing YY’s hemorrhoid—both physical and personality-wise—and XM’s alcoholism, then you start to wonder why she doesn’t just randomly pick a suitor from her blind date conference calls and offer them the same salvation package. Ironically, I ended up agreeing with the chemistry rooners. What exactly do YY and GYJ see in each other, where is the attraction coming from, are there even signs of mutual affection?
But not all is lost in terms of characterization. XM's BYD inventory and pet bulldog Daoge were actually the best performers in staying in character. As product placement, BYD reliably presented its design, tech, and comfort without stepping on the plot or hijacking the camera. And Daoge behaved like a dog is supposed to act: confused by the decisions of the characters and scriptwriters, but too fixated on food and doggy things to care.
Sadly, I'm not a bulldog and do care about the plot and characterization. So despite relishing the beginning, I eventually skipped 10 episodes to the end, found XM in a bizarre last-ditch love-triangle, and immediately thanked my decision to circumvent the clogged plumbing of this plotline. Like Confucius famously said, "hemorrhoids are to be spectated, not suffered." It's one thing to be filled with the giddy holiday spirits watching the ML writhing on the ground from hemorrhoidpocalypse; it's another to lug my own lump of coal across the finish line. This could have been an 8.5 drama, but I could only muster up a 6.5 for the unfulfilled potential.
--Category Ratings--
- Overall - 6.5 (generous)
- Plot - 6
- Theme / Concept / Impact - 8
- Acting - 8
- Visuals - 8
- Audio / Music - 8
- Rewatch - 6
- Cultural/Topical Accessibility - 8.5
- Subtitle quality - 8.5
At first glance, WIHSS seemed delightfully distinct from the predictable layout of idol dramas with their cookie-cutter tropes and 50-shades-of-pink ethos. The ML Yu Yu, an arrogant interior architect, bludgeons sensibilities with his acerbic quips and genuinely prickly personality. On the other end, we have the FL Gu Yejia, a veteran doctor whose grounded confidence, discerning compassion, and independent outlook defy the conventions of girlboss cosplay and parental machinations of blind date ambushes.
The polished production and cinematography escort you through a visual excursion of Shanghai—from vintage record shops to terraces overlooking its glitzy skyline. The shots are subtle yet elegant, and the scenes are rich in detail, but never pretentious. In particular, YY's home sets the vibe of pristine, controlled solitude, a fitting space for his idiosyncrasies and neuroses. The music underscores the mood and doesn't try to crash the party. Throw in some witty dialog, humor, and a crippling hemorrhoid and this show was looking like a bespoke design that could have been crafted under the exacting standards of Yu Yu himself.
Unfortunately, after settling in for a few episodes, the distinguished first impression turned out to be more of a stylish showroom than a lived-in abode designed for actual people. YY's patchwork of idiosyncrasies feels more like a projection that conveniently flashes for scenes and gags than a cohesive personality whose quirks have left a deep imprint in the world around him. He oscillates between offending others through obliviousness and firing off socially observant zingers. He’ll display OCD-level rigidity about certain habits and work details, then turn strangely nonchalant about things you’d expect him to obsess over. It's not a demand for YY to act as a robot, but an indictment of the writers who did not craft a character based on the solid foundation of flesh and blood, with connective tissue linking personality and behavior. Perhaps the writers tried to pull a hautism (handsome-autism) gambit to keep the ML charming enough to not completely repel the audience. But for me, this only amounted to half-baked characterization and putting lipstick on a hemorrhoid. And handsome-hemorrhoid still begets ... hemorrhoid.
This oversight doesn’t just shortchange the audience of a unique character and story, but denies us a fresh angle on life. We don't truly get immersed in YY's unique world of looking at things, the cost of his sacrifices against convention, or his way of relating to and valuing others. Yes there will be moments where he defies his prickly exterior and does nice things for others, but they come off as momentary gestures without deeper roots or reflection. Subsequently, this issue also spills over to YY's relationships, including with his assistant Lin Sa. Like his other relationships, there are reactions, but they resemble tepid ones from a six-month intern rather than a decade-long assistant. You don't get the accumulated exasperation, reflexive countermeasures, and tormented fondness you'd expect from someone who has survived so long in this professional marriage.
Gu Yejia also doesn’t change for the better. She quickly goes from a doctor with measured compassion to a Mother Teresa figure with inexhaustible patience for both Yu Yu and his neighbor Xiao Man. How the two become instant friends, beyond plot convenience, is still a mystery. GYJ presumably doesn’t have many friends because she’s busy, not because she’s never encountered needy people before. And Xiao Man’s primary traits seem to be that she’s confused and a drinker. If the missing pieces in GYJ’s life were truly healing YY’s hemorrhoid—both physical and personality-wise—and XM’s alcoholism, then you start to wonder why she doesn’t just randomly pick a suitor from her blind date conference calls and offer them the same salvation package. Ironically, I ended up agreeing with the chemistry rooners. What exactly do YY and GYJ see in each other, where is the attraction coming from, are there even signs of mutual affection?
But not all is lost in terms of characterization. XM's BYD inventory and pet bulldog Daoge were actually the best performers in staying in character. As product placement, BYD reliably presented its design, tech, and comfort without stepping on the plot or hijacking the camera. And Daoge behaved like a dog is supposed to act: confused by the decisions of the characters and scriptwriters, but too fixated on food and doggy things to care.
Sadly, I'm not a bulldog and do care about the plot and characterization. So despite relishing the beginning, I eventually skipped 10 episodes to the end, found XM in a bizarre last-ditch love-triangle, and immediately thanked my decision to circumvent the clogged plumbing of this plotline. Like Confucius famously said, "hemorrhoids are to be spectated, not suffered." It's one thing to be filled with the giddy holiday spirits watching the ML writhing on the ground from hemorrhoidpocalypse; it's another to lug my own lump of coal across the finish line. This could have been an 8.5 drama, but I could only muster up a 6.5 for the unfulfilled potential.
--Category Ratings--
- Overall - 6.5 (generous)
- Plot - 6
- Theme / Concept / Impact - 8
- Acting - 8
- Visuals - 8
- Audio / Music - 8
- Rewatch - 6
- Cultural/Topical Accessibility - 8.5
- Subtitle quality - 8.5
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