Nelly

Light,fluffy and the right amount of healthy clichés

Alright, buckle up, because we're about to talk about Sung Hoon. And let me just say, if you've been following my drama journey, you know my heart practically has a fan club dedicated to this man ever since Oh My Venus and My Perfect Marriage Revenge. So, fair warning: what you're about to read might be a tad biased. But hey, for the sake of good old-fashioned drama appreciation, let's dive into My Secret Romance.

I've been on a mission lately, a glorious journey back in time to the golden era of K-dramas – specifically, 2014. Ah, 2014! A time when directors actually seemed to, you know, direct, and our beloved "oppas" were still honing their craft with serious acting chops. And, perhaps most importantly, writers hadn't quite discovered the art of making us miserable. My Secret Romance hails from this magical time.

And let me tell you, it's exactly what the doctor ordered if you're fresh off a heavy, soul-crushing plot (we've all been there). This drama is pure, unadulterated fluff, light as a feather, and just what you need to unwind.

Now, let's be real: the plot isn't winning any awards for originality. We've got our classic 2nd-generation chaebol falling head over heels for a regular girl. If you've watched more than, say, 15 K-dramas, you can probably predict the entire trajectory from that one sentence alone. But here's where My Secret Romance throws a little curveball: they started things backward! We're talking a one-night stand blossoming into love.
Normally, it takes a good 12 episodes just for the leads to hold hands, but these two? They went straight for it! This had me, and probably countless other viewers, bracing for some serious dramatic hurdles. But surprisingly, a well-placed time jump smoothed things over quite nicely.

Honestly, this is the kind of show you plop down with on a lazy Saturday afternoon. It's the perfect binge-watch, the kind of drama you might just finish in one glorious sitting. The only real grumble I have is the slightly excessive use of flashbacks. But then again, I've seen worse. Much, much worse.

So, if you're looking for something light, charming, and featuring a certain handsome lead, give My Secret Romance a whirl. You might just find yourself smiling and kicking your feet under the blanket.

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A Noona Romance with Actual Substance

As a seasoned traveler in the lands of Asian dramas, I’ve developed a rotation system that would impress even the strictest time management coach. One K-drama in, a C-drama or J-drama follows. TW-dramas? They’re a bit like rare Pokémon. Hard to find, but when I do find a good one, everything else gets benched.

Taiwan doesn’t churn out as many dramas as Korea or China, but when they hit the mark, they hit it hard. Their writers aren’t afraid to push boundaries that the mainland wouldn’t dare touch without triggering ten levels of censorship. Also, the runtimes are merciful, no 60-episode emotional marathons here. Just good, tight storytelling that’s short, sweet, and usually surprisingly deep.

Now, My Dear Boy , let’s talk about it. On the surface, you might brush it off as another noona romance (older woman, younger man... you know the drill). But this drama doesn’t just flirt with that trope; it builds a whole layered world around it. This isn’t just about a love story. It’s about her, Luo Xiao Fei Ruby Lin), her life, her heartbreaks, her complicated family, her cutthroat career, and the inconveniently-timed arrival of a boy who might just be man enough.

The drama gives you the entire arc: from her betrayal (yep, betrayal from the top hurts the most), to climbing her way up from an intern to a respected director in Taiwan’s commercial film industry. Honestly, I was constantly thinking, how do you even film a drama about filming a drama? It's like production-ception.

Now, let’s take a moment to appreciate the screenwriter. No loose ends. Zero. Every character had purpose, every storyline mattered, and no one just disappeared after episode 8 like they got abducted by aliens. The narrative actually respected our time and attention spans. Revolutionary.

Our male lead played by Derek Chang(Wolf boy) who I discovered and and immediately added him to my sacred list of TW drama actors, right next to Wallace Huo,Marcus Chang,Jerry yan and Jasper Liu. Derek brought so much heart to this role. His character wasn’t just there to pine and pout, he grew. He started off idealistic, a little naive, and absolutely smitten. But halfway through, he did something most noona romance MLs never do, Because love isn’t enough if you have nothing to offer beyond love. Respect.

Now. Let’s talk about the not so good stuff, flashbacks. Or should I say: the never-ending memory vortex. I get it, they help build the story, deepen emotions, and provide context. But at some point, I started wondering if I’d accidentally switched to a time travel drama. If flashbacks give you a rash, maybe keep the antihistamines close.

Production-wise? Flawless. The visuals were clean, the soundtrack matched every emotional beat, and I swear the set designers deserve their own awards. Xiao Fei’s loft alone had me checking flights to Taipei. That place wasn’t just a house. It was a mood. A Pinterest board. A lifestyle.

At the end of the day, My Dear Boy doesn’t rely on dramatic cliffhangers or chaotic love triangles to keep you hooked. It’s more of a slice-of-life drama with grounded problems and relatable characters. It’s thoughtful. It’s heartfelt. And it’s quietly beautiful in a way that sneaks up on you.

If you’re looking for something that goes deeper than your typical romance, with a smart script, genuine character growth, and some serious emotional payoff, My Dear Boy should be at the top of your list.

Just... brace yourself for the flashbacks.

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A REVIEW BY SOMEONE WHO WATCHED FOR THE PLOT (a.k.a. Ji Chang Wook’s face)

As someone currently on a mission from the drama gods to finish at least 80% of Ji Chang Wook's entire acting portfolio before the year ends (because why not aim for greatness), I dove into Suspicious Partner without reading a single review. I saw him in a suit and said, “Yes, your honor.”Yes I admit that I can be shallow sometimes.

Also, let’s be real—40 episodes of 30 minutes each? That’s baby food if you’re used to Chinese dramas where one episode is the length of a flight from Seoul to Singapore. I’ve survived 56-episode emotional marathons in hanfu, so this was practically a warm-up.

Here’s why Suspicious Partner had me hooked (and slightly stressed):

1. Acting? On point.
Our ML played by JCW as Prosecutor No Ji Wook? Flawless. Our FL Nam Ji Hyun as Eun Bong Hee? Adorably chaotic. Every character actually acted like a human being. No dead eyes. No robotic dialogue. Everyone showed up to work.

2. Courtroom drama lovers, gather ‘round.
There’s actual legal stuff in here. People get arrested. Trials happen. Lawyers yell. Papers are slapped on desks. Will it make you pass the Korean Bar? No. But will it make you wish courtrooms always looked this dramatic and had this many attractive people? Absolutely.

3. The friend group? Iconic.
Found family energy? Check. Clueless besties? Check. Co-workers you’d die for even though they probably shouldn't be practicing law? Also check. I watched them banter and bicker and solve cases together and thought, “Wow, I miss these weirdos already.”

4. Now, the villain.
Jung Hyun Soo, aka The Serial Killer With Perfect Hair. He really had the audacity to be both a murderer and disturbingly good-looking. I was like… sir? Please pick a lane. My moral compass is already spinning aimlessly.

5. Romance : 12/10 for slow burn, 4/10 for decision-making.
Bong Hee took her sweet time figuring out her feelings—about 38 episodes’ worth of time, to be exact. And Ji Wook? He oscillated between heart-eyes and emotional constipation. It was messy, it was frustrating, it was peak drama behavior. Did I still ship them? Of course.

6. The acting saved some very questionable writing.
Let’s talk about that random child witness plotline. Introduced with drama. Promised emotional depth. And then… forgotten like last year’s resolutions. It was clearly meant to give the ML a personal arc, but they kind of just… let it fizzle. Sir? What happened to the trauma? Who is supervising this script?

Characters To Mentally Prepare For:

No Ji Wook: Prosecutor turned lawyer, walking emotional tornado, has better chemistry with his office furniture than most male leads do with their co-stars, also the reason I’m here.

Eun Bong Hee: The world’s most cursed intern-turned-lawyer. She’s messy, stubborn, and unfairly cute. Gets called “dirty but pretty” by the ML and somehow doesn’t punch him.

Jung Hyun Soo: The hottest killer since Dexter. His villain origin story is half tragic, half "why is he in a turtleneck looking like a Dior model while being evil?"

Final Verdict:

Was it perfect? No. Did the script occasionally forget its own subplots like someone with six open tabs and no memory? Yes. But did I care? Not really. Because the cast carried this show like they were on a pilgrimage. The chemistry was real and the cases were interesting enough.

Would I rewatch?
Maybe not the whole thing. But the rom-com bits, the fight scenes, and any scene where Wook looks personally offended by life? Absolutely.

Rating: 8.3/10
Reason for deduction: Script occasionally wandered off. Still no idea what happened to that child witness. Hope he’s okay.

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CASTING A SPELL ON YOU — OR ATTEMPTING TO, AT LEAST

Every once in a while, life gets too loud. Deadlines, bills, existential dread — the usual chaos. And in those moments, all I want is to sink into my couch and watch fictional people make dumb decisions so I can feel slightly better about mine. That’s how I ended up watching Casting a Spell on You — mostly because I needed a break from the legal drama marathon I was running with Suspicious Partner (40 episodes of intense plot twists will fry your brain cells, I swear).

Let me start with the male lead. He’s your classic kdrama chaebol — silver spoon, expensive suits, ego the size of Seoul. But plot twist: he’s actually broke. His family cut him off, handed him a debt-ridden property from Grandpa, and told him to figure it out. Character development via financial ruin? We love to see it. And of course, there’s a deeply traumatic childhood backstory — because heaven forbid a kdrama protagonist has a normal past. That trauma explains why he left Korea and spent years drifting around like a handsome nomad.

Now, here’s where things get messy. The female lead. I don’t even know where to begin without my blood pressure spiking. It’s not her storyline that’s the issue — it’s the way she was written. Or maybe the way she was directed. Or maybe both. This character makes "unhinged" look like an understatement. She’s loud. Not just “expressive” loud — I mean eardrum-shattering, neighbor-calling-the-cops loud. If I earned a dollar every time she screamed instead of speaking like a human being, I could buy the drama’s debt-ridden property and renovate it myself.

As if one chaotic female character wasn’t enough, we had to deal with the second female lead — who felt like she walked straight out of a psychological thriller. Her entire existence revolved around emotionally blackmailing the male lead, from episode 1 to the finale. I spent half the drama waiting for someone to file a restraining order or praying for the white truck of doom to show up.

Strangely enough, the side characters were the ones carrying this entire mess on their backs. When your main leads are causing migraines and you start genuinely looking forward to scenes with the quirky café owner or the overly invested landlady, something has gone very, very wrong.

So why did I finish it?

Two words: Sung Joon.

The man could read a cereal box and I’d still be glued to the screen. His acting? On point. His face? A national treasure. Somewhere between his jawline and emotionally tortured gazes, I got sucked in. So yes — maybe the spell almost worked. Not because the plot was groundbreaking (it wasn’t), or because the romance was heart-fluttering (it really wasn’t), but because Sung Joon stood there looking like that and doing the absolute most with the little he was given.

Would I recommend this drama? Only if you’ve got noise-cancelling headphones and a high tolerance for chaos. But hey, at least it gave me something to yell about — and isn’t that what kdramas are all about?

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Here We Meet Again: My Two Cents (and a Few Eye-Rolls)

Just a friendly heads-up: This review is purely based on my personal views and preferences. Don't let my ramblings sway your decision to dive into this drama or run for the hills!

The Story: Déjà Vu, But Make It Corporate

So, picture this: our usual suspects: two childhood sweethearts, separated by time, only to be shoved back together by the universe (or, you know, "fate/destiny," if you're feeling dramatic). But here's the twist! Instead of a classic rom-com reunion, they're thrown into the corporate octagon, battling it out over a company. One's trying to save her grandpa's legacy, and the other's trying not to drown with the very same company.

Initially, they're like two magnets with the wrong poles facing each other, trying their absolute best to stay miles apart. But, surprise, surprise! They eventually realize they're actually fighting on the same team, just from different corners of the ring. As for the side stories? Honestly, my brain decided to fast-forward through most of them. My attention span has its limits, especially when the main course is already giving me heartburn.

The Cast: Hello, New Obsession!

Okay, so "Here We Meet Again" might not have shattered my personal Top 30 drama list, but it did something far more significant: it introduced me to a new actor Vin Zhang who has officially waltzed his way onto my "All-Time Favorites" roster. And let me tell you, this isn't just about talent (though he's got loads of it!). We need to talk about the visuals. Yes at my age I do fangirl sometimes and giggle at the sight of abs.Sue me

But wait, there's another MVP in this drama. The most memorable character by far was the FL's Grandfather, the Chairman. This man was a comedic gold mine! He single-handedly made this drama enjoyable, providing all the laughs we desperately needed when everything else was, well, chaoting. He was charming, quick-witted, slick, and honestly, didn't take anything too seriously. I'm convinced he's a veteran in the industry because he was truly the unsung hero.

And can we talk about the FL? I'm a sucker for a strong female lead with a "can-do" attitude, someone who isn't afraid to tackle challenges head-on. And she delivered on that front! Sure, the writers couldn't resist throwing in the usual angst and some truly eye-roll-inducing lines, but at least her relationship with her grandpa was fantastic. She was fearless around him, and you could genuinely feel the immense love he had for her. That dynamic was a breath of fresh air!

Overall: A would-have been nice Rollercoaster That Went Off-Track

This story had so much potential, but it felt like it fell into the hands of writers who were, shall we say, a bit...scattered. They were all over the place! The drama started out a bit wonky, then hit a sweet spot in the middle where it became genuinely enjoyable. But then, boom, they veered wildly off course in the final stretch. I lost count of how many times I found myself rolling my eyes so hard, I practically saw my brain.

It genuinely devolved into a worse version of "You Are My Glory" (You know the CCP dialogue inserts )which was the ultimate sin: And at that point, the whole drama just went south. Way, way south. Like, south of nowhere.

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Forever Ever or Forever Never: My Delulu vs. Ren Jialun

Let's be real, there's just something about watching actors and actresses who are happily married in real life play swoon-worthy romantic leads that throws a wrench in my "delulu" machine. My brain screams, "He's someone's husband!" and just like that, the romantic spell is broken. This was my exact struggle with "Forever and Ever." No matter how much I adore Bai Lu and her incredible talent, the thought of Ren Jialun being a married man(who according to unverified rumours signed a "no-kissing" close) kept me from pressing play. For months, I resisted, a true martyr in the vast dramaland desert.

But then, as it always does, the well ran dry. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, captivating to watch. So, with a sigh and a dramatic flair, I broke my own sacred vow and hit play. And thus, my journey began.

A Second Chance at Forever (Even Without the Backstory)

Now, I confess, I never watched the prequel, "One and Only." So, I was going into this blind, a fresh-faced newbie with no historical baggage. Thankfully, the show's creators were kind enough to sprinkle in some flashback memories from the FL's perspective. These little nuggets were enough to clue me in on the whole "reincarnation" thing. From what I've gathered, the prequel was a real tear-jerker, the kind that rips your soul out and stomps on it. So, it was a sweet relief to see these characters get a second shot at happiness, a chance to rewrite their tragically beautiful story.

Despite my lack of prequel knowledge, "Forever and Ever" managed to stand on its own two feet. The creators did a stellar job of weaving the past into the present, creating a modern drama with a historical twist. The sets and architecture were subtly reminiscent of another era, and I imagine for those who watched "One and Only," it must have been a blast playing "spot the reincarnated character."

Ren Jialun: The Physical Contact Conundrum (aka My Hilarious Pain)

Alright, let's get to the elephant in the room, the source of my deep, abiding, and now, rather humorous pain: Ren Jialun. Look, the man is a solid actor, no doubt about it. I'd absolutely watch him again... just maybe not in anything with a "romantic" tag.
I'd heard the whispers, the rumors about a "no physical contact" clause, and honestly, I thought it was just that – a rumor. But watching him and the directors play a grand game of hide-and-seek with anything that would bring him an inch closer to the FL? My initial anger quickly morphed into a bewildered "What in the name of all saints is this?" and then, inevitably, pure comedy.

It would have been fine, truly, if he'd been paired with a cold, unfeeling FL, someone with the personality of a damp rag. But no, we're talking about Bai Lu here! Her very smile, her subtle grimaces, they practically scream "I'm down for whatever!" The contrast between her natural warmth and his determined physical distance became an unintentional laugh riot. It's like watching a dance where one person is trying to salsa and the other is performing an interpretive dance about personal space.
Honestly, I've had my time to recover from this particular grievance. While it's perfectly fine to have boundaries, perhaps a little memo to the manager saying "Please, for the love of all that is holy, no more romantic dramas!" would be in order.

The Verdict: A Slow Burn for the Patient Soul

All in all, "Forever and Ever" is a good drama. My little quibbles are purely personal, born from my own comedic observations. If you don't mind settling in for a SLOOOOOWWWW BURN – think frustrated wife trying to ignite a spark with a clueless but smart nerd husband who's basically a walking green flag – then you'll probably enjoy it. Just be prepared for a few laughs at the sheer lengths some directors (and actors) will go to avoid a good old-fashioned hug.

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There is nothing wrong with Secretary Kim: A trip down memorylane

Alright, buckle up, buttercups, because we're taking a joyride back to an era of K-drama that, in my humble opinion, truly slapped. We're talking 2011-2021, a golden age that birthed some absolute gems, and What's Wrong With Secretary Kim is definitely one of them. I watched this ages ago.It had slipped off my mental Top 30, but a recent rewatch for this very review? Pure magic. Seriously, it felt like seeing it for the first time. And let's be real, I've been actively avoiding anything that popped out of the K-drama oven after that glorious decade.

Meet the Man, the Myth, the "Aura": Lee Young Joon

So, we have Lee Young Joon, a chaebol heir who's got more charm and confidence than Mount Everest has altitude. If you're one of those folks who loves to whip out words like "narcissist" or "misogynist," oh boy, you're gonna have a field day with him. But hold up, because this man is also the undisputed King of 2018 Rizz. His favorite quote? He simply oozes an "Aura" that makes everyone around him bow in reverence. You can love him or hate him, depending on which side of the highway you're parked on. But he's got a twisted past, It wouldn't be a K-drama if there wasn't one Right?

Secretary Kim: The Unsung Hero (Who's Had Enough)

Secretary Kim Mi So is the absolute lifeline of Lee Young Joon's existence. She's the engine circulating his oil, the glue holding his chaotic world together. But imagine his shock (and ours, let's be honest) when after nine years, she decides she's had enough. It's not that he treated her badly, but she'd been "Secretary Kim" for so long she'd forgotten who Mi So was outside of that title. Her announcement? That's the big bang that kicks off a marathon 16-episode drama. Could it have been 12? Probably. But hey, we got more Young Joon monologues, so no complaints here!

Why I Couldn't Stop Giggling (and What Could've Been Different)

What I absolutely adored about Lee Young Joon was his razor-sharp intelligence and confidence. If you're the sensitive type, you might mistake it for arrogance, but honestly, his monologues were pure gold. It's really not a bad thing to compliment yourself, and Secretary Kim had clearly gotten so used to his self-proclamations that she just let him do his thing. I kept cracking up at how he'd twist something as simple as, "I'm calling you because I miss you," into, "I'm calling because I don't want you to miss me." The sheer audacity!

Now, for a little constructive criticism. I felt there was a slight mismatch in the chemistry formula. Young Joon, bless his heart, knew from the tender age of eight that he was going to love Secretary Kim forever. When they finally became adults, he poured his entire heart into their relationship. But for her, after being his secretary for so long, it was incredibly tough to separate her career from her romantic feelings. She was so deeply immersed in her role that shifting gears emotionally, even in their intimate scenes, felt like a struggle. They even mentioned this often, how he'd want to serve her or do things for her, but she'd still have that "secretary posture" and mannerisms. Part of me secretly wished she had actually resigned, just to see her character truly grow and blossom outside of that professional mold.

The Verdict: Still a Delightful Ride

Overall, though, it was an incredibly enjoyable watch. This is probably my fourth drama with Park Min Young, and honestly, she's one of the best in the industry for a reason. What's Wrong With Secretary Kim might not be a brand-new release, but it's a testament to that golden era of K-drama, and it still holds a special place in my heart (and on my rewatch list!).

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Healer – A Timeless Classic That Still Hits Hard

Every now and then, I get this urge to rewind time—not just by a year or two, but deep dive kind of rewind. And this time, I landed squarely in 2015 with Healer. Let me just say… what a time capsule of brilliance. Watching Ji Chang Wook, Park Min Young, Yoo Ji Tae, and the forever-iconic Kim Mi Kyung in one drama before they each went on to headline half of Korea's hit dramas? It's like finding vintage wine in your grandma's attic and realizing it’s still better than anything you’ve tasted in years.

This cast? Absolute power squad. Between them, they've starred in enough hit shows to start their own drama universe. Seeing them together before Welcome to Samdalri, What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim, Money Heist: Korea, and It’s Okay to Not Be Okay was both nostalgic and surreal. You don’t always get a lineup like this, and when you do, you feel it. Even ten years later, their energy still crackles through the screen.

What makes Healer different is that nothing about it feels outdated. Not the action, not the suspense, and definitely not the chemistry. Every scene serves a purpose. There are no boring side quests, no unnecessary drama just to fill the runtime. It all clicks together like a well-oiled watch, and honestly, even the pickiest viewers would have a hard time nitpicking this one.

And let’s not forget the sheer effort that went into making this. Back then, the industry wasn’t leaning heavily on CGI or green screens. They closed down actual streets, actors ran across real rooftops, and yes—Ji Chang Wook really did most of those insane stunts himself. That rooftop leap? Still gives me secondhand vertigo.

Kim Mi Kyung, the eternal scene-stealer, is once again in her element here. I swear, that woman has appeared in more dramas than my neighbor’s cat has lives. And Park Min Young? At this point, she’s practically a fixture on my screen. I’ve seen her face more times than any International Channel’s breaking news banner. And I’m not complaining.

Healer is the kind of drama that sticks with you. The pacing, the mystery, the quiet tenderness between the leads—it’s all so beautifully balanced. No flash for the sake of flash. Just solid storytelling with heart and grit. It’s a reminder of how good things were before everyone got obsessed with multi-verses and AI robots.

So yes, they say old is gold, and Healer is that kind of gold you don’t trade in—it stays locked in your emotional vault forever. If you’ve never watched it, you’re missing out. And if you have? It might be time for a rewatch.

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Trigger: My Weekend with Kim Nam Gil, Kim Young Kwang & Too Many Guns

DISCLAIMER:
This review isn’t my usual style. These are basically my raw notes, scribbled down while watching and cleaned up just enough for you to read. I’m not a professional critic, just a fan with a keyboard and too many opinions. I’m focusing on the story, not the camera angles or production budget. If you want a deep technical breakdown, wait for my friend @Zo****.
And don’t worry, no major spoilers here, unless you count my frustrations as spoilers.

The second I saw the posters for Trigger, I knew I was in. Then I found out all episodes dropped at once? Done. That was 380 minutes of my life… gone. But what’s life if not collecting bad decisions? And honestly, Kim Nam Gil and Kim Young Kwang, with no female lead to pull the usual tropes? Say less. We’ve been starving for action dramas this year. Sure, we got Mercy for None, but those six episodes were more “mercy-less” than merciful. And no, I will not start a fight with Netflix today.

If you’re an old-school TV fan, think Breaking Bad for the moral dilemmas and Narcos for the deep dive into the dark world of illegal guns. Trigger walks that same tightrope between psychology and total chaos. It’s a fascinating look at what happens when weapons flood the streets and ordinary lives get turned upside down.This drama opens a can of worms,and doesn’t bother closing it. I binge watched it in one weekend, pen and paper in hand like I was studying for the Korean SATs. Brutal. And at the end? I had more questions than answers. Does Netflix owe us a second season? The ending sure hinted at it, but waiting for K-drama sequels is like waiting for Kingdom Season 3: possibly lethal.

THE BIG QUESTIONS:

What happens when regular people take “justice” into their own hands?
What happens when society pushes people so hard they finally snap?
Are the “bad guys” really bad, or just good people with no options left?
Why is it that no one listens to the bullied until they get hold of a gun?
Are medical professionals equipped to handle extreme cases of mental health?

THE CHARACTERS

Moon Baek: Robin Hood in Tailored Suits and a Killer Smile
Played by the ridiculously talented Kim Young Kwang, Moon Baek was… a red flag identifying as a green flag. He outshined the actual main lead, Lee Do. Period.
He’s the cheerful-but-deadly villain with a heartbreaking past, which he casually shared with Lee Do during one of their “dates.” (Yes, I’m calling them dates. Their bromance wasn’t on my bingo card, but here we are. The best duo of 2025.) His tattoos, artistic enough to hang in a gallery, are part intimidation tactic, part trauma cover-up. Gunshot scars, body trafficking scars, surgeries… Moon Baek is practically a walking medical miracle. But his real scars? Invisible. And those are what fuel his twisted mission to “empower” victims, just in the worst way possible. He doesn’t give guns to the wicked; he gives them to the righteous who’ve been wronged. Which makes you want to root for him… until you realize the terrifying consequences of letting him have his way. He thrives on the sheer thrill of watching “security personnel” scramble and sweat while bullets fly, an epic display of just how outmatched the authorities are.

Lee Do: The One-Man Army
A brilliant former special forces soldier, should have been the unstoppable hero of this story. He knows his guns, his tactics, and the psychology of his targets. Yet the security force sidelines him, treating him like a part-time consultant instead of the asset he is. After his high-stakes past, he’s now stuck behind a desk at a sleepy police station, a far cry from his days in special ops. To the National Intelligence Service, his solo stand during the police station attack wasn’t bravery, it was paperwork. Just him ticking off his “body count” target. As if heroism comes with a checklist. He’s a highly skilled operative, but bureaucracy has him on a tight leash, forcing him to act like a pencil pusher instead of the formidable force he once was. Lee Do needs a gun, a team that actually knows how to use guns, and probably a better ride too. (Consider this a humble request to HR on behalf of all viewers.)

LET'S RE-WRITE SOME WRONGS:

The writer-director Kwon Oh Seung (pulling double duty...suddenly things make sense) is relatively new, with only Trigger and Midnight under his belt. Still, he’s going places.
By “places,” I mean the Police Academy and the NIS offices, because he could use some consultancy on how real police responses work. In many instances , every officer on screen moved like there isn’t a truckload of guns and protestors waiting for them. (To be fair… there actually was a truck full of guns. No joke.) Epic fail.
Some storylines deserved more screen time. The school shooting scene? That could’ve been an entire episode. It was psychological, painful, and had real-world implications. But instead of exploring the aftermath, parents panicking, the community grieving, we got a quick candlelight vigil and Netflix’s “Insufficient funds” notification.

FINAL THOUGHTS:

Trigger is a brilliant idea that needed more time and more depth. I love shows that peel back society’s layers, ask uncomfortable questions, and challenge our sense of morality. This one did all of that… but then wrapped it up too quickly.
If you’ve ever been pushed to your limit and wondered, “How far would I go?”, this drama is for you. It will make you question the black, the white, and the grey areas.
Violence-wise? Pretty mild. They even give you trigger warnings at the start of intense episodes. (Maybe I’ve watched darker shows, but I didn’t find it that bad. Do I need therapy? Probably.)

Favorite Quotes:

“If revenge ruins my life, is it worth it?”
Lee Do

“In a world where the strong devour the weak, it’s not your cheap sympathy that will protect them.”
Moon Baek

Writer's notes ✍️
In a funny twist, I ended up watching Kim Young Kwang’s 2021 movie Mission: Possible right after finishing Trigger. He is now the real main character, and the plot holes all over Trigger? Filled nicely in this movie. Review coming soon. Stay tuned!

And finally, flowers to the real MVP of this drama: composer Hwang Sun Jun, whose portfolio is longer than the Book of Psalms. Brilliant work, he gave this drama an edge in the best way. Some of his work can be found here: https://kisskh.at/people/76665-hwang-sang-jun

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EVERY DECADE OR SO A VERY PRECIOUS GEM IS FOUND..

Every decade or so, a rare gem emerges from the endless sea of recycled tropes and commercial fluff.A story so powerful it lodges itself in your bones. I call these dramas “DNA Adjusters” because they don’t just entertain,they shift something fundamental inside you. Definitely Not Today is one of those.

Finding this drama was pure destiny. I wasn’t looking for it; it found me. It took four years, but somehow, the timing was perfect. I stumbled upon it while scrolling through a list curated by legendary watchers on this platform. They’d given it a perfect 10, and that was enough to pique my curiosity. One click later, I was eight episodes deep, not even realizing how time had slipped by. They’re short episodes, yes,but I could’ve watched 36 of them and still craved more. That’s how good this was.

The Story

This was my first Asian drama I ve watched with a “dark humor,” label and honestly, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Making light of something as heavy as suicide could easily go wrong. But after reading a few thoughtful reviews, I dove in and what I found was far from offensive. It was moving, sincere, and surprisingly funny in all the right places.

Told in a narration style voiceover, the main lead’s voice was so soothing, it felt like a bedtime story,comforting even while discussing life’s darkest moments. The animation sprinkled throughout was subtle, never flashy, just enough to add texture without stealing focus.

The suicide theme is delicate and rarely tackled with such raw honesty, especially in Chinese dramas. But here, humor paired with Viki’s timed comments,made space for empathy. We found ourselves rooting for the main character, especially the ML, whispering in unison: “Not today, buddy. Try tomorrow.” The female lead’s story was equally heartbreaking, deeply relatable, and a reflection of issues that are too often left out of mainstream narratives. I applaud the creators for their bravery in telling it.

Casting & Performances

The casting was spot-on. Instead of banking on the glitter of fame, the director chose actors who look and feel like everyday people. It gave the show an intimacy and realism that big-name dramas often lack. For a moment, I even thought it was a Taiwanese production it had that grounded, Taipei aesthetic that made me double-check its origin.

And then, there’s Leo Leong. What a discovery. I remember watching Meteor Garden, yet somehow, I missed him. But in this role, he doesn't just act,he becomes the story. There’s no vanity in his performance. No perfect angle or overdone styling. Just pure, honest emotion. He is Mi Chong,the boy next door that nobody really sees, quietly trying to end his life without causing a fuss. But fate, ironically, won’t let him go quietly.
To put it simply: I think I found the Chinese Park Bo Gum.

The Technicals

I could go on about the cinematography, the lighting, the editing (which was among the best I’ve seen), the English-language OST, or the wardrobe simple and true to the world they created. The natural, small-town settings gave the drama a soul. Every element worked in harmony to support the story, never distract from it.
This is a drama about deliverance. About healing. Two people drowning in despair, but instead of dragging each other deeper, they choose to swim using the last of their strength to the surface.

Definitely Not Today isn’t just a drama I watched. It’s one I’ll carry with me, for a very, very long time.

OVERALL:It was extremely BEAUTIFUL,It was extremely WELL DONE,It was extremely SHORT and It was extremely UNCHINESE

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Love Like the Galaxy: Proof That 56 Episodes Isn’t That Long (I Swear)

So I recently dipped my toes into historical dramas—mostly K-dramas at first—and somehow found the courage to wander into the world of Chinese dramas. Enter Love Like the Galaxy.

The title fell into my lap, and since both leads are at the top of my “I’d watch them read a grocery list” list, I figured I was in safe hands. What I didn't know? That I had just signed up for 56 episodes. But by the time I realized, I was already emotionally kidnapped.

Let’s start with the production. Listen—I've seen my fair share of films from all corners of the world, and I don’t say this lightly: the cinematography in this drama is jaw-dropping. I don’t know what kind of magical tech or celestial alignment they used, but every scene looked like it was directed by the gods of lighting, wind, and slow motion. It gave "2008 Beijing Olympics Opening Ceremony" energy. I swear, the number of extras alone made me think they accidentally built a real empire and just decided to film in it.

Now to the cast:

What a lineup. Wu Lei continues to make everyone feel like an underachiever at 24. The man acts like he’s lived ten lifetimes. Zhao Lusi? She doesn’t miss. Ever. Not in this drama, not in anything. She delivers every time like she’s got something to prove to the universe, and honestly, the universe agrees.

Character development? Smooth. Emotional delivery? Ten out of ten—actually, make it ten Tencent Awards.Whether it’s tears, laughter, sword fights, or heartbreak, nobody dropped the ball. Even the background characters showed up like their careers depended on it.

Now, let's talk about the one thing we all noticed but politely side-eyed: the ending. As is tradition in long C-dramas, the story builds like a slow-cooked meal, and then suddenly the writers go, “Wrap it up, folks,” and everything starts moving like someone’s late for their flight.
Love Like the Galaxy didn’t totally escape that fate—but thanks to the top-tier acting and production, the sudden sprint to the finish line felt more like a firm jog.

Final verdict?

A solid 1000/10. Don’t let the 56 episodes scare you—by the time you meet Grandma Cheng and the Emperor, you’ll be wishing there were more. Comedy, politics, romance, emotional trauma—it’s all in there, and somehow, it works.

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Pretty People, Pretty Things, Petty Problems

Hierarchy had been on my watchlist for a while, but I quietly deleted it after seeing an avalanche of bad reviews. The drama community wasn’t kind. But then Kim Jae Won happened, specifically, King the Land happened, and suddenly, I found myself casually soft stalking him like a woman on a mission. Turns out, Hierarchy is one of his newer and more talked-about projects, and with only seven episodes, I figured: why not binge it in one sitting and call it a day?

Let me just say this upfront, I walked into this with rock-bottom expectations. I wasn’t looking for deep storytelling or emotional resonance. I just needed something to pass the time before getting back to The Red Sleeve. And in that spirit, here’s my breakdown. Easy, honest, and to the point.

The Good Stuff:

1. Cinematography? Gorgeous.
High-quality visuals, sleek camera work, and a set design that screamed money. Everything looked polished, almost too polished, like everyone lived in a luxury catalog.

2. The Rich Were Rich Rich.
If you’re into watching excessive wealth parade around, think Hermès boxes in every corner, luxury homes, cars that don’t see rain, and private school vibes that are aggressively elite, Hierarchy delivers. Plot? Questionable. But aesthetics? Unmatched.

3. Kim Jae Won and Lee Chae Min = Eye Candy Deluxe.
Whoever cast these two deserves an award and a vacation. Not only are they beautiful, but they also brought more depth than I expected. For their age, the emotional delivery, especially in those tension-filled locker room scenes or when tears started flowing, was surprisingly solid. They carried a lot of the weight of this show, and honestly, they did it well. The rest of the cast was... there. Serviceable.

4. Wardrobe Department Did Not Play.
The outfits, especially for the male leads, were designer from head to toe. Sharp suits, tailored school uniforms, and the kind of casual wear that costs more than my rent. Same goes for the houses, the cars, the props, everything screamed budget.

5. Short and Sweet (Well, Short At Least).
They didn’t drag things out. No 16 episodes of the female lead staring into the void while piano music plays in the background. Things moved quickly, maybe a little too quickly, but at least I didn’t feel like I was being held hostage.

The Not-So-Great:

Don’t expect a plot that’s going to change your life. This isn’t The Glory, Sky Castle, or even Penthouse at its chaotic best. The themes are familiar, class division, secrets, trauma, betrayal, but the writing doesn't dig very deep. It gives rich-people-problems with a sprinkle of a revenge plot and teen angst, but if you're looking for emotional payoff or tight plotting, you might feel underwhelmed.

Final Thoughts:

Hierarchy is like a fashion magazine with a bit of drama sprinkled in. It's not here to teach you life lessons or make you cry in the middle of the night. It's here to look good, stir a little chaos, and leave before things get too complicated. If you're okay with that, and just want to enjoy the visuals, the pretty faces, and some high-budget messiness, it’s worth the watch. Just go in with the right expectations, and you might actually have a good time.

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Curiosity killed a cat: Obsessed cat

I watched this movie in 2024 but in the spirit of writing a review for every drama that left an impression on me..Here we go.

After enduring the beautiful yet heartbreaking end of Mr. Sunshine, I was on the hunt for something light, something that wouldn't leave me reaching for a tissue box.

Naturally, I consulted the oracle of all things entertainment: TikTok. Big mistake. Someone suggested "KDramas to Watch Alone," and Obsessed popped right up. Despite some lukewarm reviews, I dove in headfirst. Here's my two cents on this whole affair.

A Blast from the Past, Visually Speaking

First off, the cinematography was spot on for its time. As a designer, I couldn't help but admire how the furniture perfectly captured that mid-century modern vibe. It was a visual treat, even if the story had me raising an eyebrow.

The Cast: Familiar Faces and a Few Blanks

The cast was a mixed bag. The leading man, Song Seung-heon, is definitely a familiar face, and his presence was certainly felt. It was a bit of a trip to see him here after watching him in other roles from that era. I even spotted a pre-fame Uhm Tae-goo, which was a nice little Easter egg for fans.

Now, for the leading lady, Lim Ji-yeon... well, let's just say she stuck to the script. Her performance, to me, felt a little like a copy-and-paste job, echoing what many others have said. The rest of the cast did their part, nothing really stood out, but they got the job done.

The scenes that divided Dramaland:

Yes, they were explicit. The movie was rated for mature audiences, so I wasn't exactly clutching my pearls. However, a little less direct lighting in those moments wouldn't have hurt. Seriously, if you zoomed in, you could practically see every detail. Having seen a couple of Western films tackle similar themes.
I couldn't help but think that a little less explicit content and a little more focus on the "love story" and yes, I'm using air quotes here, would have served the plot better.

From "One Car Stand" to "I Love You"

Speaking of the "love story," it was a bit of a rapid-fire development. They went from a "one-car stand" (you'll understand when you watch it) to declarations of undying love in what felt like minutes. Honestly, even a mosquito buzzing by could tell this wasn't love. It seemed more like a fleeting escape for two people tired of their mundane lives and equally dull spouses.

Could It Have Been Better?

Despite my reservations, I think this movie could have been fleshed out into a six-episode mini-drama. That kind of build-up might have actually made their connection feel believable, perhaps even turning it into a must-watch. As it stands, it's a curious watch, but perhaps not the palate cleanser I was hoping for.

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August – A Quiet Journey That Speaks Loudly

It wasn’t long ago that I stumbled across Zhang Zhe Han after watching Everyone Wants to Meet You. Like many, I found myself reading his story, what happened, what was lost, and how he came back. But something in me kept whispering that there’s more to this man than headlines, roles, or even his music. So I started searching, not for facts, but for something that felt real.

Then came August.

This documentary wasn’t just content, it was healing. I watched it with noise-cancelling headphones, wanting to shut out the world. Best decision I made. For 40-something minutes, I wasn’t just a viewer, I was walking beside him. The silence, the wind, the emotions, all of it felt painfully human and achingly familiar.

Zhang Zhe Han may never read this, but I hope somewhere the energy reaches him.
From one person who’s had to rebuild from nothing, who has sat in the dark, swallowed rumors, been misread, and yet still held on, just know:
It will be okay.
You’ve found a way back, and that’s already something many never do.

Thank you for letting 12 million strangers witness something so raw, honest, and unfiltered. You reminded us that there's beauty in starting over.

And a quick side note; Zhe Han and Jerry Yan in one frame? Someone make it happen. Same energy, same soulful silence… maybe it’s the hair, maybe it’s the heart.

“The tragedy isn’t in falling, it’s in never standing back up.”
And Zhe Han? You’re already on your feet.

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Old School Cool with a Few Bumps in the Road

The Good: Finally, Grown-Ups!

Honestly, it feels like forever since we've had K-dramas featuring actors who can actually, you know, act! For a while there, it was all perfectly sculpted noses and pretty faces, but not much in the way of actual talent or personality. (I could name names, but my therapist says I should work on my anger issues.) "Trunk" was a breath of fresh air, a shining example of "old is gold." The seasoned actors here brought such maturity and screen presence, it was like a masterclass.

The whole vibe of this drama was just chef's kiss. The color tones, the mood, the melancholic sounds and sights, the camera angles, and the OST — all perfectly executed. Even though it was marketed as a mystery, it never gave off that creepy, eerie feeling. The director clearly has an eye for design, going for that edgy mid-century style in Han Jeong-won's houses and the entire production set. And don't even get me started on the cars – they practically screamed "wealthy ML," and they were on point.

The Bad: Where'd the Episodes Go?

K-dramas are known for being quick and easy binges, but I honestly think "Trunk" could've used a few more episodes, say 10 or even 12. The story had so much potential to be developed and expanded. But then again, if you look at Gong Yoo's drama history, he does seem to pick projects with shorter episode counts. And like practically everyone else, I wasn't thrilled with the ending. But let's be real, with only 8 episodes, what were we even expecting?

One thing that felt a bit underdeveloped was the ML's career as a producer. Unless you were paying super close attention, you might have missed what he actually does. Him just showing up at the studio and lounging on the sofa while his assistants do all the work didn't really sell his "boss" status. His actual "boss," O Hyeon-cheol, seemed to represent him more on the career front. I would've loved to see at least a scene or two where he was actually immersed in his production role.

The Ugly: Mystery? What Mystery?

Okay, full disclosure: I'm not usually a fan of the mystery genre. So the fact that I actually enjoyed this drama means one thing: there was no real mystery. The whole time, you feel like the director is building up to some big, twisted reveal, but then... crickets. If you're a hardcore mystery fan who loves shocking twists, turns, and maybe a dash of psychotic elements, you'll probably snooze through this one.

Overall: A Mature Romance with Good Looks

My personal take? I went into "Trunk" looking for a mature romance and some solid acting, and that's exactly what I got. Plus, they threw in some great visuals and top-notch production. So yeah, I'm pretty satisfied.
What are your thoughts? Did "Trunk" hit the mark for you, or were you left wanting more?

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