A Recipe That Went Astray: A Critique of Bon Appétit, Your Majesty
This past month, the anticipation surrounding Bon Appétit, Your Majesty made for an exciting viewing experience, with many hours spent contemplating the next twist. However, the eventual resolution of the cook’s journey into 16th-century Korea ultimately felt less than satisfying.
The drama followed a familiar K-drama formula: opening with witty, feel-good moments, delving into the protagonist's complicated past, and concluding with a massive, decisive act of justice. While this structure isn't unique, the enchanting chemistry between the King and the Chef, set against a historical backdrop, did successfully recapture the magic seen in previous culinary-historical dramas like Mr. Queen.
The pacing of the narrative was notably uneven. At times, the story crawled to build suspense, yet the final episode felt overwhelmingly rushed, leaving the viewer little time to fully absorb the massive turns of events.
As a viewer unconcerned with rigid factual accuracy—especially in a show where a cookbook serves as a time machine—it was deeply disappointing that Chef Yeon did not leverage her unique knowledge to change the past. The opportunity to expose the true conspiracies orchestrated by Prince Je Seon and his associates was missed, especially since she had already cured the King of his tyranny. A definitive royal marriage and a "happily ever after" would have provided the satisfying dopamine rush that many happy-ending seekers desire. Instead, the screenwriters tried to mystically push the ending as an unexplainable secret.
The series excelled at using the aesthetics of the Joseon period to create a magical atmosphere, but this illusion was ultimately shattered in the finale. It was still a less painful conclusion than Mr. Queen, which left viewers with the anguish of two separated souls across centuries, but the execution was flawed.
Perhaps the showrunners could have benefited from studying the time-travel genre mastery of Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander, particularly in navigating a historical setting.
On the performance front, Lee Chae-min’s portrayal of the King was superior and more convincing than Lim Yoon-a’s performance, with the stability of the entire story resting heavily on his charismatic shoulders. The chef’s failure to apply her modern perspective to anything beyond her cooking also felt like a frustrating lack of creative ambition in the writing.
Overall, while the culinary competition scenes with the Chinese cooks were the most unique and entertaining element of the show, the drama itself was like a beautiful river that met a rocky, rushed waterfall. It hinted at a happy ending, but fell short of the high standard it had set for itself.
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