bellaraxo

lost in sub plots

This is my first time writing a review because this series left me with too much to say, both in admiration and in frustration.
The series had great potential but missed critical marks that could have made it unforgettable.
Starting with the intimacy: I had modest expectations, but even the emotional scenes like the hug felt underwhelming and lacked the emotional impact they deserved. The protagonists were starved of meaningful development, and the focus was scattered unnecessarily into subplots like tennis and music.
The most frustrating part was how much narrative weight the side couple received.
Their slow-burn romance was tender and well-developed to the point where it felt like they were the true protagonists.
Meanwhile, the main couple’s relationship was barely allowed to breathe.
Even by the second-last episode, instead of deepening the main emotional arc, the series chose to showcase the side character improving at tennis, a subplot that felt increasingly irrelevant to the emotional heart of the story.
It was genuinely frustrating to see precious screen time spent on character achievements in sports, while the actual romance between the leads was left undeveloped and unsatisfying.
While I appreciate the climactic structure of the final episode, it’s disappointing that the love interest only became vocal and expressive at the very end.
Until then, he remained so tightly written that it was difficult to connect with him or invest fully in the main couple’s journey.
I haven’t read the manhwa, so I can't speak about the adaptation accuracy.
But based solely on the drama, it’s clear that the series had incredible potential, especially with such talented actors at the helm. Instead, the narrative focus shifted heavily onto side plots like music, tennis, and personal dream struggles — giving the side couple an almost protagonist-level arc. Meanwhile, the main leads didn’t even share one truly memorable romantic moment, making it hard to stay emotionally engaged.
In the end, it’s a series that shines in parts but ultimately leaves you wanting so much more from the story that should have mattered most.
With a little more focus on the main relationship and character development, it could have been something unforgettable.

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He was the reason

It's been a day since I finished this movie, and I am not over it, so yeah, this review is a necessity. I still have this physical ache in my chest—that specific "book hangover" feeling, but for film. There are some movies you watch to pass the time, and then there are movies like *10DANCE* that you carry around in your head for days. You can’t just watch this and forget it. The way the cameras capture the sweat, the friction, and the sheer desperation between Suzuki and Sugiki… it just stays with you.

The part that hurts the most—the part I can't stop thinking about is everything that was left unsaid. My heart literally broke for Suzuki. I spent the whole movie wishing, just worshipping the idea that Suzuki could finally understand his own impact.

I wanted Suzuki to know that when Sugiki was at his lowest, when he was ready to give up dancing entirely after the breakup with his girlfriend, it was Suzuki who saved him. Suzuki thinks he’s just a messy Latin dancer trying to keep up, but he doesn't realise that his small, raw performance was the exact moment of enlightenment for Sugiki.

Suzuki is the only reason this man kept trying. He is the only reason Sugiki didn't walk away from the floor forever. Knowing that Sugiki carries that realisation alone while they leave separately at the end. It’s a beautiful, quiet tragedy.

The ending feels like a beginning and an ending all at once. "See you in the 10-Dance final" isn't just a promise of a competition; it’s a lifeline. But god, I need more. I need the closure of them standing on that same floor, not as rivals, but as two halves of one soul.

Please, Netflix, we need a sequel. We need Suzuki to finally see himself through Sugiki’s eyes. Until then, I’ll just be here, living with this ache.

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Feel good movie

If you’re looking for a film that feels like a quiet Sunday afternoon, this is it. It’s a beautiful reminder of why Japanese indie cinema is so special. After the high-octane emotional wreckage of films like 10DANCE, this felt like exactly what my heart needed.

The Art of the Slow Start I’ll be honest: at the beginning, I wasn't sure if I was ready for the pacing. It is incredibly slow-paced at the start, taking its time to breathe and set the scene. But as you keep watching, you realise the slowness isn't a flaw—it's the point. It gives the film a distinct short film vibe, where every frame feels curated and every quiet moment has a purpose.

Technical Perfection in Dialogue. One thing that absolutely blew me away was the Japanese-to-English dialogue timing. Often in bilingual films, the transitions can feel clunky or rehearsed, but here, the timing was perfect. A huge part of why this worked so well was the lead American actor’s command of the language. He spoke Japanese so well that it felt completely authentic to the setting. His fluency allowed the conversations to flow without that awkward translation gap you often see in international films. It captured the way real people navigate living between two cultures—the pauses, the hesitations, and the moments where a look says more than a word ever could. It felt seamless, making the connection between the characters feel 100% authentic.

A Feel-Good Mastery. Ultimately, Aichaku is a masterclass in the feel-good genre. It doesn't rely on massive plot twists or acceptance conflict. One scene that could sum up the entire movie is your own mom urging you to find a girlfriend; it is that accepting of LGBTQ . The movie is focused more on growth, settling into a new place and finding your calling. It leaves you with a soft, lingering warmth rather than a sharp ache.

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A Gripping Ride That Stumbles at the Finish Line

Watching *Big Mouth* in 2025 feels like discovering a hidden gem from the K-drama vault—one that bursts onto the screen with electric potential and keeps you glued to your seat, only to leave you fuming at the credits roll. As a first-time viewer, I was instantly hooked by its maze-like web of corporate espionage, hidden identities, and moral grey areas, all wrapped in that signature Korean thriller polish. The show kicks off with a bang, masterfully juggling multiple plot threads—from shady biotech deals to personal vendettas—while nurturing each one with the care of a suspense novelist at their peak.

What elevates it from good to addictive is the character development. Park Chang-ho - the one who pretends "Big Mouth" in the beginning himself (played with brooding intensity by Lee Jong-suk) evolves from a bumbling underdog lawyer into a force of calculated chaos, his arc fueled by desperation and quiet rage. The ensemble shines too—side characters like Choi Do-ha's allies and the sleazy power players add layers of betrayal and humanity that make every twist land with gut-punching force. And oh, the plot twists: they come fast and furious, each one a dopamine hit that had me yelling "No way!" at my screen. The pacing in the first half is flawless, building tension like a pressure cooker about to explode, exploring themes of truth, greed, and redemption with sharp wit and zero filler.

But then... the second half happens. Around the midpoint, the cracks start showing, and by the final episodes, it's a full-on collapse into rushed, half-baked chaos. What began as a tightly woven tapestry frays into loose ends that dangle mockingly in the wind. The biggest gut-punch? Hye-jin's murder—the emotional core that should've ignited a reckoning—gets buried under a mountain of unresolved nonsense. Even towards the last few minutes of the series, trials drag on endlessly over Professor Seo's papers and stacked gold bars, but her killer? Do-ha had her phone the whole time, yet it's treated like a forgotten prop. It's infuriating, like the writers got bored and decided "close enough." And don't get me started on that pointless detour with Chairman Kang's missing son and the elaborate search party—it screams "filler episode" from a mile away, devouring screen time without a single payoff. Why tease a conspiracy that goes nowhere? It's the kind of lazy plotting that makes you question if the production ran out of budget or just steam.

Look, *Big Mouth* isn't perfect, and its finale leaves a bitter aftertaste that lingers like bad kimchi. The squandered potential stings—imagine if they'd given those final hours the same love as the setup? But damn if it doesn't keep you hooked every agonising second. For thriller junkies craving twists that'll have you second-guessing everyone (and everything), it's a must-watch. Just brace for the frustration-fueled rage-quit at episode 16.

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Writing this review while rewatching this masterpiece for the third time because, honestly, it deserves so much recognition and fame. It is one of those rare BLs that hits different. This was actually where I first came across DaouOffroad, one of the most loved and most shipped duos ever, and from that moment, I kind of got it. Their chemistry? Unreal. The story? Way too beautiful to skip a single second. Usually, I’m the type to 2x speed through BLs when they get too cliché or when it turns into that same old submissive vs dominant storyline, sometimes even too much of the high school or uni storyline (like, we’ve seen enough of that, right?). I’m more into the strong, stubborn, power-bottom or top kind of vibe, and this show delivered that without even trying too hard. It had this unique plot that kept me hooked; it wasn’t just romance, it was emotional, a little magical, and full of meaning. The idea of waiting a century for love, of finding it again in another lifetime, it’s the kind of thing that sounds dramatic until you actually feel it through these characters. I was so involved in this that I ended up watching their first series, Love in Translation, right after, and nonetheless, that's a whole beautiful series. I don't wanna get too much into that, as this is a review about Century of Love, but trust me, every series of DaouOffroad can be watched a million times. I don’t regret a single second. The acting, the chemistry, the whole vibe, it’s been a while since a BL felt this fresh and well-written. Every frame, every scene, every little detail was worth watching. It’s not one of those series you just finish and forget. It stays with you. If you’ve ever been tired of the same recycled BL plots, this one will remind you why you fell in love with the genre in the first place. Century of Love isn’t just a story about two people — it’s about love that survives time, pride, and even death. And honestly? I’d wait another hundred years to feel something this good again.

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Dance of Love and Betrayal

I’ll be real, it is beautiful, but also so damn toxic.
Like, I get the whole “tragic romance” aesthetic, but that dove poison arc with Sha Qian and that Huo Ying and the way they glorified it as love, that was manipulation disguised as love. Till the end, Huo Ying never really saw the efforts of Shen Song, like idk what evolution of stalkhome did Huo Ying possess. Holding an antidote hostage just to get info on Shen Le. Wild

And Shen Le — yeah, he’s elegant, powerful, but half the time it felt like he never really saw what Dan Zi Lang went through. This man literally built an empire, spilt blood, carried guilt, made Shen Le his whole world, and Shen Le kept crying over his brother, who literally killed their dad. This whole dynamic between the main leads after episode 6 makes you feel like "okay, finally things will get better" and BOOOM "fall down a cliff".

The first episode felt like a puzzle dump — faces, names, kingdoms, but once it clicked, it clicked. Still, the ending didn’t need to be that tragic. The whole “afterlife reconciliation” with his brother felt unnecessary. Sometimes you just wish they’d let love live instead of killing it for symbolism.

Still: the show matters. It's worth watching, it's worth crying for, it’s not just beauty, it's brutality. Not just romance, but wreckage. And even in wreckage, there’s longing.

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