K-Drama 
3
1
A promising drama, yet too dry emotionally and too much lecturing
Against the Current starts with a strong title and themes. The premise is promising, and the story sets a clear direction as a career drama, a social commentary, and a story of women’s empowerment. ATC could have become China’s Jewel in the Palace (2003) or Oshin (1983) if only it had stayed true to its promise instead of going off track. Unfortunately, after episode 20, everything starts to fall apart. Calling ATC a masterpiece would be an overstatement, given how much it still has to learn about telling a meaningful story about women.
Admittedly, there are aspects of this drama that deserve appreciation. First and foremost is its impressive production quality. It reflects a significant leap in Chinese drama production, showcasing the producers’ growing technical ability to create something aesthetically pleasing and elegant that still feels modern and contemporary rather than dated. And what I love most about ATC is how it manages to capture the beautiful side of humanity despite the dystopian world it portrays, where slavery exists, and women are treated as property, denied the same rights as men. Even in a society shaped by oppression and inequality, there is still room for kindness, compassion, and human connection. Moreover, ATC realistically portrays ordinary people and family life. It gives its community real substance. The city is not merely a backdrop for the characters’ stories or a temporary stop along their journeys. It feels like a living, breathing place where people build relationships and find support. It is somewhere they can return to, call home, and feel safe.
However, the drama has serious flaws that steer it away from its intended direction and ultimately undermine its aims.
First, all viewers know the central question posed in the very first episode: “Why do some people become slaves?” The question comes from a young noblewoman, and the story unfolds as she herself becomes a slave and comes to see the world from the bottom up. However, the story that follows offers little reflection on this social issue. Instead, it shifts toward a feminist narrative in which women are portrayed as victims of a tyrannical society who must be liberated, even though men suffer under the same system of oppression. This imbalance is genuinely frustrating and makes the story feel contrived. When the FL finally rises to become a high-ranking lady herself, we don't even get something as simple as her helping the poor escape the grip of poverty, giving alms to low-ranking servants, or showing kindness to their families. By this point, the protagonist should have learned the answer to the very question that started her journey in the first place.
Second, ATC focuses on women's achievements as they become more empowered and gain greater freedom. Strangely, it barely shows how they learn or what they go through in the process of learning. This entire aspect is missing, and its absence feels particularly jarring in a drama that aspires to tell a story of women's empowerment. There are no scenes showing the FL learning anything new, as if she had already become a perfect woman under her grandfather’s guidance back when her noble family was still thriving. Nor do we see her friends making an effort to learn to read or develop skills beyond domestic work. In this drama, people seem to become accomplished overnight.
This is where ATC differs so profoundly from the legendary Jewel in the Palace, for example. The learning process is at the very heart of Dae Jang-geum’s story: we follow her journey from a low-ranking palace cook to a physician serving ordinary people and eventually a royal physician. Even by the end of the series, she never stops learning, exploring, and discovering new things. Her achievements feel earned because we get to witness the struggles, grit, curiosity, and continuous learning that make them possible. Everything feels super rewarding, and viewers get the chance to celebrate every milestone of her journey from zero to hero.
On the contrary, in ATC, after the FL is freed from slavery, she works at a shop, but the drama never shows how she actually runs it as an entrepreneur. She just somehow manages to bring in huge profits. Later, she becomes an opera singer, but we never see her explore the art form or learn to sing. She just happens to have a beautiful voice. Eventually, she becomes a playwright, yet the drama never shows her learning the craft or going through the creative process. She simply becomes successful. In the end, the only answer the audience is left with is, “Because she used to be Shen Jialan.” Even when she was still a slave, there was barely any trace of who she used to be as a learning person. There was no sign of her secretly learning new things, being curious, or trying to better herself.
Third, the FL’s perfection is another problem that makes the drama increasingly boring. There is simply no character development. She reacts to changes in her surroundings, but she herself never really changes. Her worldview, thinking, skills, and personality remain just as perfect as ever. As the story’s moral anchor, she is too righteous, too self-righteous, and too preachy toward the people around her. Yet she never seems to learn from them or allow herself to be challenged or corrected. She comes across more like a goddess or a saint who comments on everything happening in the story rather than someone who is actually part of it. Meanwhile, the other characters keep singing her praises, leaving the audience wondering exactly what makes her so deserving of all that admiration, since we never get to see the process by which she becomes the person they claim she is.
Fourth, ATC underappreciates the ML and has far too many antagonists. Moreover, the ML and antagonists are poorly characterized. While ATC glorifies its perfect FL, it fails to give the other characters much depth or explore their more positive sides.
The ML, a highly capable military man, is reduced to a man hopelessly in love with the FL, spending years pining for her while being stripped of his broader social role until he ends up doing little more than staying at home. Personally, I don't need a woman-empowerment story if it ends up perpetuating a subtler form of injustice toward men, portraying them as foolish, blind, and incapable of living up to their full potential. What makes the ML’s fate even more tragic is that he keeps professing his love for the FL until the very end of his life, without ever receiving so much as a single word of reciprocation or even a thank-you for loving her. Was this intentional on the writers’ part? Why is the FL so reluctant—or downright stingy—when it comes to expressing her feelings or reflecting on what love means to her while her man is still alive? Even in her old age, she seems to have no fond memories of the life she shared with the ML to look back on. That is why the romance in ATC is so poor, bland, and dry emotionally.
Meanwhile, the antagonists are portrayed as one-dimensionally evil, irrational, crazy, and stupid, with little effort to explore their humanity or what drives them to act the way they do. The antagonists have no stories of their own and seem to exist solely to highlight the FL’s righteousness and moral superiority, lecturing the audience on what a person is supposed to look like. Another thing I don't understand is why none of the antagonists gets a chance at redemption. They all meet tragic ends, paying for their wrongdoings with their lives. One dies after being raped and severely injured, another takes her own life by slitting her throat, and yet another dies in a fire. They are women, too, so why does the story show them so little compassion? Where is the gentleness and humanity that the drama seems so eager to celebrate in other parts of the story?
Fifth, I'm not entirely sold on Tan Songyun's casting as the adult Shen Jialan. She does a good job with the role, but her facial features look noticeably different from those of the actress playing the younger Shen Jialan. The resemblance is weak enough to make it harder for me to buy them as the same person. Perhaps the production team could have found a younger actress who looked more like Tan Songyun, or an adult actress who more closely resembled the younger version.
Ultimately, what disappoints me most about ATC is not that it fails to become another Jewel in the Palace or Oshin, but that it comes so close to becoming something truly meaningful, only to squander its own potential. It has the production quality, the premise, and the world-building to tell a compelling story about social injustice, human growth, and women's empowerment. Yet, somewhere along the way, it seems to lose sight of what should have made this story worth telling in the first place. Instead of letting its characters grow, struggle, learn, and earn their achievements, it takes shortcuts, glorifies an almost infallible FL, and leaves the rest of its characters emotionally and morally underdeveloped. What a waste of such a promising story. I went into ATC hoping to watch a woman rise against the current, only to find a drama that doesn't quite understands what it takes to make that journey worth rooting for.
Admittedly, there are aspects of this drama that deserve appreciation. First and foremost is its impressive production quality. It reflects a significant leap in Chinese drama production, showcasing the producers’ growing technical ability to create something aesthetically pleasing and elegant that still feels modern and contemporary rather than dated. And what I love most about ATC is how it manages to capture the beautiful side of humanity despite the dystopian world it portrays, where slavery exists, and women are treated as property, denied the same rights as men. Even in a society shaped by oppression and inequality, there is still room for kindness, compassion, and human connection. Moreover, ATC realistically portrays ordinary people and family life. It gives its community real substance. The city is not merely a backdrop for the characters’ stories or a temporary stop along their journeys. It feels like a living, breathing place where people build relationships and find support. It is somewhere they can return to, call home, and feel safe.
However, the drama has serious flaws that steer it away from its intended direction and ultimately undermine its aims.
First, all viewers know the central question posed in the very first episode: “Why do some people become slaves?” The question comes from a young noblewoman, and the story unfolds as she herself becomes a slave and comes to see the world from the bottom up. However, the story that follows offers little reflection on this social issue. Instead, it shifts toward a feminist narrative in which women are portrayed as victims of a tyrannical society who must be liberated, even though men suffer under the same system of oppression. This imbalance is genuinely frustrating and makes the story feel contrived. When the FL finally rises to become a high-ranking lady herself, we don't even get something as simple as her helping the poor escape the grip of poverty, giving alms to low-ranking servants, or showing kindness to their families. By this point, the protagonist should have learned the answer to the very question that started her journey in the first place.
Second, ATC focuses on women's achievements as they become more empowered and gain greater freedom. Strangely, it barely shows how they learn or what they go through in the process of learning. This entire aspect is missing, and its absence feels particularly jarring in a drama that aspires to tell a story of women's empowerment. There are no scenes showing the FL learning anything new, as if she had already become a perfect woman under her grandfather’s guidance back when her noble family was still thriving. Nor do we see her friends making an effort to learn to read or develop skills beyond domestic work. In this drama, people seem to become accomplished overnight.
This is where ATC differs so profoundly from the legendary Jewel in the Palace, for example. The learning process is at the very heart of Dae Jang-geum’s story: we follow her journey from a low-ranking palace cook to a physician serving ordinary people and eventually a royal physician. Even by the end of the series, she never stops learning, exploring, and discovering new things. Her achievements feel earned because we get to witness the struggles, grit, curiosity, and continuous learning that make them possible. Everything feels super rewarding, and viewers get the chance to celebrate every milestone of her journey from zero to hero.
On the contrary, in ATC, after the FL is freed from slavery, she works at a shop, but the drama never shows how she actually runs it as an entrepreneur. She just somehow manages to bring in huge profits. Later, she becomes an opera singer, but we never see her explore the art form or learn to sing. She just happens to have a beautiful voice. Eventually, she becomes a playwright, yet the drama never shows her learning the craft or going through the creative process. She simply becomes successful. In the end, the only answer the audience is left with is, “Because she used to be Shen Jialan.” Even when she was still a slave, there was barely any trace of who she used to be as a learning person. There was no sign of her secretly learning new things, being curious, or trying to better herself.
Third, the FL’s perfection is another problem that makes the drama increasingly boring. There is simply no character development. She reacts to changes in her surroundings, but she herself never really changes. Her worldview, thinking, skills, and personality remain just as perfect as ever. As the story’s moral anchor, she is too righteous, too self-righteous, and too preachy toward the people around her. Yet she never seems to learn from them or allow herself to be challenged or corrected. She comes across more like a goddess or a saint who comments on everything happening in the story rather than someone who is actually part of it. Meanwhile, the other characters keep singing her praises, leaving the audience wondering exactly what makes her so deserving of all that admiration, since we never get to see the process by which she becomes the person they claim she is.
Fourth, ATC underappreciates the ML and has far too many antagonists. Moreover, the ML and antagonists are poorly characterized. While ATC glorifies its perfect FL, it fails to give the other characters much depth or explore their more positive sides.
The ML, a highly capable military man, is reduced to a man hopelessly in love with the FL, spending years pining for her while being stripped of his broader social role until he ends up doing little more than staying at home. Personally, I don't need a woman-empowerment story if it ends up perpetuating a subtler form of injustice toward men, portraying them as foolish, blind, and incapable of living up to their full potential. What makes the ML’s fate even more tragic is that he keeps professing his love for the FL until the very end of his life, without ever receiving so much as a single word of reciprocation or even a thank-you for loving her. Was this intentional on the writers’ part? Why is the FL so reluctant—or downright stingy—when it comes to expressing her feelings or reflecting on what love means to her while her man is still alive? Even in her old age, she seems to have no fond memories of the life she shared with the ML to look back on. That is why the romance in ATC is so poor, bland, and dry emotionally.
Meanwhile, the antagonists are portrayed as one-dimensionally evil, irrational, crazy, and stupid, with little effort to explore their humanity or what drives them to act the way they do. The antagonists have no stories of their own and seem to exist solely to highlight the FL’s righteousness and moral superiority, lecturing the audience on what a person is supposed to look like. Another thing I don't understand is why none of the antagonists gets a chance at redemption. They all meet tragic ends, paying for their wrongdoings with their lives. One dies after being raped and severely injured, another takes her own life by slitting her throat, and yet another dies in a fire. They are women, too, so why does the story show them so little compassion? Where is the gentleness and humanity that the drama seems so eager to celebrate in other parts of the story?
Fifth, I'm not entirely sold on Tan Songyun's casting as the adult Shen Jialan. She does a good job with the role, but her facial features look noticeably different from those of the actress playing the younger Shen Jialan. The resemblance is weak enough to make it harder for me to buy them as the same person. Perhaps the production team could have found a younger actress who looked more like Tan Songyun, or an adult actress who more closely resembled the younger version.
Ultimately, what disappoints me most about ATC is not that it fails to become another Jewel in the Palace or Oshin, but that it comes so close to becoming something truly meaningful, only to squander its own potential. It has the production quality, the premise, and the world-building to tell a compelling story about social injustice, human growth, and women's empowerment. Yet, somewhere along the way, it seems to lose sight of what should have made this story worth telling in the first place. Instead of letting its characters grow, struggle, learn, and earn their achievements, it takes shortcuts, glorifies an almost infallible FL, and leaves the rest of its characters emotionally and morally underdeveloped. What a waste of such a promising story. I went into ATC hoping to watch a woman rise against the current, only to find a drama that doesn't quite understands what it takes to make that journey worth rooting for.
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