This review may contain spoilers
“Dear X: 12 Episodes of ‘WHAT Is Wrong With You?’”
I went into Dear X expecting psychological depth, morally grey characters, and maybe a slow-burn descent into darkness. What I got instead was a beautifully acted, well-shot exercise in “WHY are you like this???”
Let’s start with the good, because yes — there is good:
The acting? 9/10.
Everyone understood the assignment. Faces were face-ing. Eyes were acting. Micro-expressions were micromanaging my blood pressure. No complaints there. If talent alone could save a drama, this cast would’ve carried it on their backs like Olympic champions.
Now.
The story.
Oh. The story.
I don’t mind morally bankrupt characters. I love complex villains. I can appreciate toxic narratives when they are saying something. But Dear X made me want to reach through the screen, grab a certain manipulative, sick, sociopathic menace by the collar, and politely but firmly punch her in the teeth. For character development. For science. For my sanity.
This wasn’t “wow, fascinatingly twisted.”
This was “everyone should run — not walk — in the opposite direction.”
The plot kept dangling the promise of depth, consequences, or catharsis — and then said, “Actually? No ❤️”
It felt less like a psychological thriller and more like watching a slow-motion car crash where everyone involved has a driver’s license and still chooses chaos.
And let’s talk about the unforgivable crime:
She killed my pookie.
Hwang In-yeop was out here doing the most — acting his soul out, serving pain, vulnerability, and sincerity — only to be emotionally, narratively, and spiritually DESTROYED. I will never forgive this drama for taking him from me. Ever. That loss alone knocked at least two points off my lifespan.
Music? 5/10.
It existed. It played. It did not emotionally support me in my time of need.
Chemistry?
Yes, there was acting chemistry — tension, intensity, sparks — but instead of butterflies I felt impending doom. Not romance. Not yearning. Just vibes that scream “this will end badly and I will need therapy.”
Rewatch value: 1/10.
I survived it once. That’s enough. This is not a “rewatch for nuance” drama — this is a “thank you, next” experience.
By the end, I wasn’t crying. I wasn’t devastated.
I was just… tired. Tired and mildly enraged. Like I’d finished a beautifully written essay that concluded with the wrong answer on purpose.
Final verdict:
Story: 5.0
Acting / Cast: 9.0
Music: 5.0
Rewatch value: 1.0
⭐ Overall rating: 5/10
Dear X is the kind of drama that makes you appreciate good acting while simultaneously making you question humanity, free will, and why nobody in this universe goes to therapy.
Would I recommend it?
Only if you enjoy:
being stressed
yelling at your screen
mourning Hwang In-youp
and developing a sudden urge toward fictional violence
Respectfully.
Now excuse me while I cleanse my soul with a drama that doesn’t make me whisper “what the fuck” every ten minutes.
Let’s start with the good, because yes — there is good:
The acting? 9/10.
Everyone understood the assignment. Faces were face-ing. Eyes were acting. Micro-expressions were micromanaging my blood pressure. No complaints there. If talent alone could save a drama, this cast would’ve carried it on their backs like Olympic champions.
Now.
The story.
Oh. The story.
I don’t mind morally bankrupt characters. I love complex villains. I can appreciate toxic narratives when they are saying something. But Dear X made me want to reach through the screen, grab a certain manipulative, sick, sociopathic menace by the collar, and politely but firmly punch her in the teeth. For character development. For science. For my sanity.
This wasn’t “wow, fascinatingly twisted.”
This was “everyone should run — not walk — in the opposite direction.”
The plot kept dangling the promise of depth, consequences, or catharsis — and then said, “Actually? No ❤️”
It felt less like a psychological thriller and more like watching a slow-motion car crash where everyone involved has a driver’s license and still chooses chaos.
And let’s talk about the unforgivable crime:
She killed my pookie.
Hwang In-yeop was out here doing the most — acting his soul out, serving pain, vulnerability, and sincerity — only to be emotionally, narratively, and spiritually DESTROYED. I will never forgive this drama for taking him from me. Ever. That loss alone knocked at least two points off my lifespan.
Music? 5/10.
It existed. It played. It did not emotionally support me in my time of need.
Chemistry?
Yes, there was acting chemistry — tension, intensity, sparks — but instead of butterflies I felt impending doom. Not romance. Not yearning. Just vibes that scream “this will end badly and I will need therapy.”
Rewatch value: 1/10.
I survived it once. That’s enough. This is not a “rewatch for nuance” drama — this is a “thank you, next” experience.
By the end, I wasn’t crying. I wasn’t devastated.
I was just… tired. Tired and mildly enraged. Like I’d finished a beautifully written essay that concluded with the wrong answer on purpose.
Final verdict:
Story: 5.0
Acting / Cast: 9.0
Music: 5.0
Rewatch value: 1.0
⭐ Overall rating: 5/10
Dear X is the kind of drama that makes you appreciate good acting while simultaneously making you question humanity, free will, and why nobody in this universe goes to therapy.
Would I recommend it?
Only if you enjoy:
being stressed
yelling at your screen
mourning Hwang In-youp
and developing a sudden urge toward fictional violence
Respectfully.
Now excuse me while I cleanse my soul with a drama that doesn’t make me whisper “what the fuck” every ten minutes.
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