Can someone explain why no one seem to give a flying fuck about the second lead??? They were listed as main roles…
Perosnally I enjoyed the second leads as it provided some relief from the intensity of the main couple. It was like watching parallel shows in the same world about being gay in the Chinese film industry and the struggles they go through. I sensed that Zelia wanted to show the path that Shu Yao and Qing Lang could have taken where they could also have been a happy couple, not the tragic ending that happen to them. So she made it that it did not take the focus away from the lead.
Changyang attends a very rigid and limited admission Hunter School in Venezuela. I hear on average about 3 Chinese…
That is the mystery that maybe yet to be revealed. I too wondered about the long gap. Zelia is very thorough so she’s either had an editing mistake or she’s leaving some crumbs for future discussion. Also, while talking to his dad in jail, who was the person in front of QL? He was slowly exposed in the end of the scene.
Oh no, is it really that bad? I haven't started watching yet...but I was thinking I would tonight!
Please don’t take my word alone, your preferences may be different. I just can’t take too much crying with every episode. I love Ongsan even when he cries. But he’s been crying too much for me. I hurt for him.
I'm confused...can someone tell me why Qinglang follows Chang yang and why chang yang came earlier but didn't…
Changyang attends a very rigid and limited admission Hunter School in Venezuela. I hear on average about 3 Chinese men are able to join and the class has a 50% dropout rate. It’s a very long highly intensive using live bullets, interrogation and other training skills. And only given limited time off. So Changyang was able to get a short leave and spent with QL and take care of other issues . in the end, he had to fly back to Venezuela. He really couldn’t say goodbye in the end and they both know this.
I watched like 6 eps, But I can't get invested, should I keep watching
Shows and movies are very subjective in my opinion. Some of us this series hits hard while for others it’s not their type. Yiu have more than 10 shows to choose, only if you have the luxury of time by all means.
I personally believe that stepbrother tropes makes the best BL schemes. The tension is already inherent from the beginning, the forces that pulls them apart and even stronger the force that pulls them together. And to be a fly on the wall and watch all this, golden.
Even better, when the script is different, the acting is superb, and the chemistry is sparkling. Like Addicted, this one hit me good and hard.
The first four episodes of The Summer of You transported me back to my first love, my high school best friend and that unforgettable summer when I was discovering love and myself for the first time. Like Chicharu and Wataru, it was an unrequited, one-way love: my best friend loved me deeply as a friend, while I felt something more, a memory made even more poignant by the letter I received when I moved to the U.S., which I still have today. I love how naturally the writers allow Chicharu and Wataru’s relationship to unfold through small glances, gentle touches, and warm hugs rather than forcing the romance. Perhaps that is why the series feels so nostalgic: warmth is what separates mammals from reptiles, and human touch has a way of healing aches and pains that words cannot. And the bond it creates remains in our hearts, forever.
The final episode, appropriately titled “Beholding,” may be the most beautiful expression of Changyang’s love. For Changyang, there is only one person in his eyes. Gender becomes irrelevant. What he sees is the person, the soul he has chosen to behold.
The series finale feels like a commentary on China’s risk-averse attitude toward same-sex relationships. “The social divide between us” does not weaken their love; it seems to intensify it. If absence makes the heart grow fonder, then societal pressure makes their bond stronger. The more the world tells them what they cannot be, the more determined they become to simply be.
Then Zelia finally makes her own Hitchcockian cameo, appearing as Director Li. I translated the text message she sent and reads as follows:
“Mulan disguised herself as a man to join the army in place of her father. When a woman dresses as a man, it's called "leiwu satao" (a type of martial arts performance); when a man dresses as a woman, it's labeled "effeminate culture." Is this a case of cultural hatred towards women, or a societal lack of confidence in its own culture? Ultimately, it's only when humanity entered a patriarchal society that we fell into a social acceptance of male worship. What does it matter if you're male or female? We're all just a shell containing a soul. Some retain their spirit, some lose their soul; some are clear-headed and blind, some can't distinguish right from wrong. When will humanity be able to let go of gender?”
Her conclusion is even more provocative.
What does it matter whether we are male or female? We are all merely shells containing a soul. Some retain their spirit. Some lose it. Some remain clear-headed while others become blinded by convention. Some can distinguish right from wrong, while others simply follow what society tells them. And ultimately, she asks: When will humanity finally be able to let go of gender?
That, to me, is the real theme of this series. Love does not see gender first. Society does. Very few series know how to end on a high note. A Winter’s Sun Wakes the Wind in Spring Hill does.
It ends with a rising sun.
That perhaps one day, China may look at same-sex love not as something that needs to be hidden, explained or condemned, but simply as love.
And that is why the final image stays with me. It reminds me of that lone man standing in front of the tanks in Tiananmen Square. One person standing against something vastly more powerful. He did not stop the tanks. But he made the world stop and look.
This is actually a photography technique to create depth, a 90 degree angle from the camera whether facing face…
Yes. The director or cinematographer would face the actors at an angle to create more depth in the face. It actually works though at time you notice why they’re not looking at each other.
I decided with so many great BL’s this summer to wait until this series gets to episode 9. I just wanted one less show to make me wait every week. So far I’m only on the first episode and Japanese writers and actors never disappoint me. The chemistry and the low-fire burn is enjoyable to watch. Loke watching my seed for its first leaf. And a short title to boot.
10/10 A Masterpiece That Transcends GenerationsPachinko is one of the rare series that feels timeless from its…
it’s a beautiful adaptation of the novel, an historical point of view and current perspective of Koreans in Japan. like oil and water. looking forward to the rest of the seasons.
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Even better, when the script is different, the acting is superb, and the chemistry is sparkling. Like Addicted, this one hit me good and hard.
The series finale feels like a commentary on China’s risk-averse attitude toward same-sex relationships. “The social divide between us” does not weaken their love; it seems to intensify it. If absence makes the heart grow fonder, then societal pressure makes their bond stronger. The more the world tells them what they cannot be, the more determined they become to simply be.
Then Zelia finally makes her own Hitchcockian cameo, appearing as Director Li. I translated the text message she sent and reads as follows:
“Mulan disguised herself as a man to join the army in place of her father. When a woman dresses as a man, it's called "leiwu satao" (a type of martial arts performance); when a man dresses as a woman, it's labeled "effeminate culture." Is this a case of cultural hatred towards women, or a societal lack of confidence in its own culture? Ultimately, it's only when humanity entered a patriarchal society that we fell into a social acceptance of male worship.
What does it matter if you're male or female? We're all just a shell containing a soul. Some retain their spirit, some lose their soul; some are clear-headed and blind, some can't distinguish right from wrong. When will humanity be able to let go of gender?”
Her conclusion is even more provocative.
What does it matter whether we are male or female? We are all merely shells containing a soul. Some retain their spirit. Some lose it. Some remain clear-headed while others become blinded by convention. Some can distinguish right from wrong, while others simply follow what society tells them. And ultimately, she asks: When will humanity finally be able to let go of gender?
That, to me, is the real theme of this series. Love does not see gender first. Society does.
Very few series know how to end on a high note. A Winter’s Sun Wakes the Wind in Spring Hill does.
It ends with a rising sun.
That perhaps one day, China may look at same-sex love not as something that needs to be hidden, explained or condemned, but simply as love.
And that is why the final image stays with me. It reminds me of that lone man standing in front of the tanks in Tiananmen Square. One person standing against something vastly more powerful. He did not stop the tanks. But he made the world stop and look.