Our nephew is BACK and he gives Mok this absolutely RADIANT smile! Okay but like… is it too much to hope that in Thee’s whole imaginary musical brain theater, this kid’s gonna break out into a full singing number?? Because I’m lowkey expecting it and I won’t apologize! 😭✨
OMG wait – Thee literally had me cackling one second and BAWLING the next?? What is wrong with me??
This man’s brain is literally a 24/7 musical production – whether it’s full Bollywood or Disney vibes, his imagination is so ridiculously extra that I’m laughing so hard my cheeks are getting a whole workout! 😭
And don’t even get me STARTED – I was SO mad we didn’t get to see him absolutely wreck Wiwid! Plus that whole orphanage bit with Peach? I was sitting there like “okay why is this dragging on” – BUT THEN. Oh my GOD. It ALL made sense! They were literally building up to the most EPIC payoff!
The mafia boss thing? Obsessed. Fully obsessed. And Peach’s backstory literally DESTROYED me – like I was genuinely tearing up. But then Thee just goes full vigilante justice and honestly?? I’m SO here for it! Like yes king, go OFF! And I’m sitting here actually CRYING happy tears about it!
Seriously though – am I okay?? Like what even IS this?? 💀✨
Episode 6 is basically one long setup fest. The mass murder case shuffles forward, the main couple’s storyline gets dragged along, and the second couple suddenly slams the gas with a full soundtrack moment like the show just remembered it’s also a romance. It’s stuffed to the brim, for better and for worse.
Because they crammed so much in, the main plot is actually crawling at a snail’s pace. On top of that, Singha’s room turning out to be the exact same set as Inn’s room from My Magic Prophecy is hilariously on brand for this production’s budget priorities.
This episode moonlights as a Thai vocab lesson. Our hero Singha has a sister named Maysa; in Thai, Singha means August and Maysa means April, so apparently their parents just opened a calendar and went, “Yes, that’s the vibe.”
We finally get crumbs of backstory on why Singha has a statue of ghost king Thao Wessuwan in his house. The working theory: years ago, Maysa came to stay, got possessed, heard some ghost calling her outside, walked out the door, and just never came back. Peak tragic backstory unlocked with zero mercy.
That disappearance is obviously Singha’s core trauma. Then Mom shows up with a Thao Wessuwan statue as a supernatural home security system for her son, though the timeline is still fuzzy enough that the show can rearrange it later if it wants extra melodrama.
On the investigation side, last episode already tied the case to the spiritual retreat center and the cursed dolls, so that’s old news. This time, Sey and Darin discover all the victims died with the same bamboo shoot dish in their stomachs, which is basically the retreat center’s deadly house special.
Singha sends his team to collect cursed dolls from each victim’s home and zooms in on Ta Khuean, the finance director, as the prime suspect. Naturally, every officer who goes near a doll either has an “accident” or bumps into a ghost, while King is over there cosplaying Rational Cop of the Year and refusing to admit anything weird is happening.
When Singha orders Khem to secure the evidence, Khem immediately runs into the slit-mouthed woman, who tries to make him swallow a cursed doll and choke himself to death. Thankfully, Thup gets ghost-notified and sprints to the evidence room like he’s doing a horror speedrun.
After Singha scares the slit-mouthed woman off, King is visibly rattled but still clings to his “there are no ghosts” agenda like it’s his only personality trait. Thup suggests Singha take the evidence box home since he’s the one guy the ghosts won’t latch onto, and King reacts like someone just handed the killer the master key to the evidence locker.
Later, Singha and Thup go pick up Darin from the hospital and bump into Jump and his sister from the YouTuber ghost-hunting squad. Jump is now half gone, mumbling ghost-summoning incantations and nonsense like a broken horror podcast on loop.
When Thup follows out of morbid curiosity, the slit-mouthed woman pops up again and threatens to eat seven people, including him, because apparently she’s on a murder meal plan with a quota. Singha shows up, flexes Thao Wessuwan’s protective buff, and scares her off without breaking a sweat.
The slit-mouthed woman calls Thao Wessuwan a yaksha, which slots neatly into the lore: Thao Wessuwan lines up with Vaishravana, the guardian king whose entourage is made up of yaksha demons, and yaksha demons literally treat other ghosts as snacks. No wonder she books it the second he’s in range.
When Singha, Thup, and Darin talk it over, Darin guesses that “seven people” means the slit-mouthed woman still has seven more to eat. Right on cue, Jump shows up babbling about Wednesday, and Darin casually mentions that’s his birthday, which might as well be the show stamping TARGET across their forehead.
King then storms in with backup to arrest Thup and frame him as the suspect. The official excuse is that both Thup and Ta Khuean are from Si Sa Ket, so he’s an easy scapegoat, but the real reason is King’s jealousy has gone fully off the rails. Give that man a therapist and a journal, not authority and a gun.
The script makes it painfully clear that King has never actually changed. All that decent behavior last episode was just PR; the second a real love rival appears, he snaps right back to violent and petty, like muscle memory but for toxicity.
The second couple gets a ton of screen time here, which should be a win, except their usual spark is weirdly missing. After a few episodes of solid chemistry, this one feels like someone forgot to plug their ship back into the emotional outlet.
In the end, Sey decides to go back to what he knows instead of auditioning more chaos for his love life. Post-hospital, Darin has their own moment of clarity, they get back together, and we’re rewarded with a soft, beautifully shot bathroom heart-to-heart that almost makes up for the stress.
Next episode looks ready to deliver a full love scene, which is nice and all, but the real main course is going to be King getting smacked in the face by consequences. May the narrative drag him thoroughly.
The way they used the acting-within-acting as a mirror for emotional growth hit different, honestly. That whole concept of learning to show emotions through their roles and then actually applying it to their own relationship? Chef’s kiss. And you’re right about the binge—waiting week to week would’ve killed the momentum of watching them actually work on their relationship instead of just… having one. Rare to see a continuation that doesn’t just rehash the first season’s formula.
The side couple really did carry, you’re so right about that. And yeah, the finale had that classic “we ran out of time so here’s fanservice instead of proper resolution’” energy 😭 Still enjoyed the ride though.
When Yai interferes, it’s like watching someone spend reserves they don’t actually have.
The lighter stuff, just being around or showing up briefly in Kaew’s space, he can handle. But the second he does something physical or really forceful, like when he actually stops that art professor, you can see it completely wreck him. He looks absolutely wiped, unstable, like he’s barely keeping it together. And then he just disappears. He won’t even let Kaew see him after, because he’s that drained.
But honestly, it goes way deeper than just being tired. The show keeps reminding us that Yai is stuck. He can’t move on to his next life, and the only thing keeping him here in any real way is Kaew’s merit. There’s even promotional material that talks about him “using his life and future lives” for Kaew, which suggests that every big intervention isn’t just burning through his current energy. It’s actually messing with his karmic situation, making it harder, maybe even impossible, for him to ever break free and reincarnate.
And then there’s the emotional side of it. When he has to use anger or violence to protect Kaew, even though it comes from love, he suffers so badly afterward that he just pulls back. It feels less like he’s worried Kaew will think he’s some kind of monster, and more like he’s in so much pain, spiritually and emotionally, that he doesn’t want Kaew to see it or worry about him. So after he saves him, he retreats and carries all that hurt by himself.
Every time he protects Kaew, he’s basically choosing Kaew’s physical safety over his own spiritual wellbeing and over any real chance at honest closeness. Love asks for sacrifice, but the sacrifice just creates more distance between them. The more you sit with that, the more heartbreaking it gets.
I’m definitely sticking with Melody of Secrets even though the first episode didn’t quite click for me yet - but honestly, I’m kind of fascinated by the symbolism they’re building with the characters’ names and professions, which feels promising!
Botphleng apparently translates to something like “poem” or “verse” in Thai, and that’s such a cool choice for a crime journalist with amnesia. Like, poems are these carefully constructed pieces of language that create meaning through deliberate arrangement - and here’s Botphleng, someone whose job is literally shaping narrative and uncovering truth, but he can’t access his own story. He’s a living poem with missing stanzas. There’s something really compelling about a character whose name means “crafted text” when he’s struggling to read his own life.
Tankhun has connotations around firmness or stability, which makes sense for a criminologist who finds patterns and creates certainty from chaos. But what I love is how that plays against the situation - he’s TELLING Botphleng “I’m your solid ground, I’m the thing you can trust,” but from Botphleng’s perspective with zero memories to verify anything, Tankhun is actually the biggest unknown in the room. Especially with, you know, the whole dead body situation.
The names also set up this interesting dynamic where they SHOULD complement each other - Botphleng as Tankhun’s poem, Tankhun as Botphleng’s anchor - but the circumstances have completely scrambled that symmetry, and I’m curious to see how they navigate back (or don’t) to what those names promise.
The parallel world angle goes way deeper than a simple “fake it till you make it.” Kano realizes the split between these two worlds traces back to his own choices, not some random cosmic reset button. This isn’t wish-fulfillment he’s passively watching unfold—the better reality exists because he literally does things differently this time. His coworkers’ attitudes shift, events cascade in new ways, and the entire atmosphere tilts because of him. It’s a butterfly effect that keeps hammering home that this is a two-way street, not a dream he can just coast through.
You have to actually look at what’s in front of you and face yourself before anything can change. He pegs Okami as a natural-born salesman from day one, but that snap judgment says as much about Kano as it does about Okami. Maybe he’s been slapping unexamined assumptions onto himself and everyone around him without noticing. As he slowly starts catching new angles and perspectives in this timeline, that evolving self-awareness feels like the real miracle Kagami is offering him, more than any parallel-world gimmick.
Romance-wise, the slow-burn tension is chef’s kiss. The height difference gives every small physical beat between them a visual impact that’s hard to look away from. Episode three builds on the color contrasts from episodes one and two, cranking up that sense of emotional and sensory whiplash. The score in their bedroom scene drifts in at exactly the right moments, wrapping everything in a dreamy, slightly surreal haze. Then the cut to complete silence for the chocolate-feeding moment makes the scene land even harder, letting micro-expressions and body language do all the work. Performance, sound design, and visuals are all locked in and pulling in the same direction.
LOL! I've got much more (good) marriage years under my belt, but I still remember my father in law advice: Son,…
😂 Your FIL and this show’s lead would be best friends - both masters of saying the quiet part out loud. That “your turn now” energy is EXACTLY what makes this show so good!
I’m kind of obsessed with how this show does so much with so little. It’s got that minimalist thing going on: few characters, sparse dialogue, lingering shots. But instead of just looking pretty, it uses that simplicity to dive deeper emotionally.
The first two episodes are all gray and washed out, urban and isolated, everyone so guarded. But then Il-jo goes back to his countryside hometown and Jeong Han follows him, and suddenly the palette shifts to these lush, living greens. It’s not just a change in scenery; you can feel their walls coming down, like they can finally breathe again. The director’s use of green (the nature, Jeong Han’s shirt) feels so intentional, as if it’s tracing their emotional thaw.
Episode 4 completely wrecked me. When Jeong Han sees Il-jo’s bruised face and quietly says he’s not ugly, he’s beautiful, then asks if they can date, it’s such a tender moment, shattering all the defenses Jeong Han has been clinging to. It hits harder than any big dramatic confession could. It’s salvation in the mundane: nothing grand, just real.
It’s only four episodes, but it tells a complete story of mutual healing. Jeong Han makes it impossible for Il-jo to stay invisible, and Il-jo becomes the one person who can unchain Jeong Han. The silence and restraint make it resonate even more. The less they say, the more deeply you feel it.
Okay so I never read the original manga, but after finishing episode 6, it just hit me that all those little gut feelings I had been totally validated.
The show’s called Therapy Game, which is pretty meta when you think about it. So it starts with Shizuma, this straight guy nursing a broken heart, and he randomly hooks up with Minato (who’s gay) at this LGBT bar. They’re both drunk, things happen, they sleep together. But then the next day Shizuma’s like “nope, didn’t happen” and basically denies it to his face. Minato’s pissed, obviously, so he decides to flip the script – he’s gonna make Shizuma fall for him and then dump his ass. His own little therapy game, you know? Healing Shizuma’s heartbreak while getting revenge.
But by episode 6? They’re not playing games anymore. They’re genuinely into each other. Shizuma, who was giving off major red flags at first, has turned into this total green flag guy. And here’s the clever part – he’s studying to be a vet, right? It’s like the perfect metaphor. He’s basically treating Minato like this wounded little animal that needs care.
Because of his family stuff, especially his mom, Minato’s got serious trust issues with love. He’s like a skittish animal, always ready to bolt, refusing to depend on anyone. And only someone as patient and gentle as Shizuma – this vet student who knows how to handle scared creatures – could slowly get past those defenses and teach him to trust again.
There’s even this moment in bed where Minato jokes about having “fangs,” and the English translation really drives it home. Like yeah, he IS that wounded animal who needs healing.
Then when Shizuma goes away for his three-week vet internship? That separation becomes its own kind of therapy. Minato has to learn to miss someone, to wait, to not just run away. It’s such a smart narrative choice.
And that bent cosmos flower at the end when they reunite? Minato breaks off the damaged part but keeps the stem that can still grow, waiting for the bud to bloom someday. The symbolism is 🤌. That’s him. That’s their relationship. The damage happened, but life goes on, and love can still bloom.
The whole episode is just this quietly powerful emotional progression. No wonder people are so hooked on this show.
My Essay After a Second Watch: When the Horny Finally Makes Sense
Okay so I watched this episode again and suddenly all the sexual innuendos resolved into economic theory. Second viewing hit different. Here’s what I missed the first time while I was too busy screaming about Dew’s bod.
The Real Tea: Thirst Traps as Economic Theory
Okay so YES, Dew’s shirtless scene was everything, and GMMTV’s boyfriend bod collection just got another entry. But here’s the twist: this show is using horny comedy as a Trojan horse for a BRUTAL takedown of how capitalism treats creative and tech workers like disposable napkins. Everything about Jira being dick-brained is actually asking: are you valued for who you are, or just what you can produce for someone richer than you?
Spoiler: it’s the second one.
AI Fashion = Shein on Steroids
Koh wanting to buy Thames’ company to train AI designers isn’t sci-fi. It’s literally happening right now. Shein’s getting sued for using AI and data scraping to rip off small artists at industrial scale. The show’s asking: what happens when fast fashion goes LIGHTSPEED with generative AI that can update collections continuously instead of seasonally?
The “brand DNA” argument is basically luxury saying “we sell heritage and craft, not just clothes” while Koh’s like “lol patterns go brrrr, fire the humans.” That tension between art-as-human-lineage versus art-as-optimizable-algorithm? That’s the whole show.
The Dataset Heist No One Talks About
Those generative AI models? Trained on massive scraped datasets. Your art, my photos, everyone’s creative work. Usually without consent or payment. When artists complain, companies either fight lawsuits or offer weak opt-outs AFTER they’ve already used your stuff.
What Koh represents is that Silicon Valley logic where legal risk is just another line item. Scraping the world’s creativity to train your private AI? That’s not theft, that’s INNOVATION, baby. The ruthlessness is the point.
Pheem’s Birthday Present: Mass Unemployment
Koh’s company restructuring, where AI does all the coding and Pheem just “supervises” while everyone else gets fired, is every tech worker’s current nightmare. And Koh makes Pheem announce the layoffs. On his birthday. With non-competes so brutal that Mawin’s basically unemployable.
The show doesn’t say if this is evil or inevitable. It just shows you the DAMAGE and lets you sit with it. “Innovation” becomes code for “concentrating power and making everyone else precarious.”
Vermeer: Proof That Markets Don’t Give a Shit
The Vermeer reference? Chef’s kiss. Dude created canonical masterpieces and died broke with eleven kids. (Truly, the fewer kids might’ve helped with the bankruptcy situation.) He’s the ghost of every artist whose work gets celebrated AFTER they’re dead while they starved making it.
Koh’s AI plan wants creative novelty without dealing with actual messy humans. Vermeer’s the reminder that markets are TERRIBLE at valuing the people who make the culture they later worship.
Big Dick Energy as Literal Currency
Jira’s choices (taking Koh’s sketchy job, instantly stripping for Pheem) look unhinged until you realize his actual currency is sexual excitement, not money. Koh thinks everyone has a price; turns out Jira can be STEERED BY HORNINESS, which is hilarious and terrifying when the object of desire is a paranoid billionaire with trust issues.
Meanwhile Koh’s body (skeletal from insomnia, constantly monitored, locked behind NDAs) is the OPPOSITE of boyfriend material. Where Pheem and Jira’s bodies are playgrounds, Koh’s is a prison. Every shirtless moment is doing double duty: fanservice AND a visual thesis on who gets bodily freedom.
No Merch = Artistic Middle Finger
The show barely has any product placement, which in BL-land (where series exist to sell you branded keychains) is basically rebellion. When your whole plot is “commodification destroys souls,” keeping the frame sponsor-free becomes part of the argument. Once money dictates every shot, you get Koh’s soulless AI hellscape.
My merch prediction? Still accurate. This director would rather eat glass than sell out, and honestly? Respect.
Bottom Line: This show is sneaking you economic theory through BL tropes and asking whether YOU’RE the product being optimized. It’s giving fan service while simultaneously deconstructing the entire system that produces fan service.
I’m obsessed and also lowkey having an existential crisis. See you next week. 🍿✨
This production is truly a masterclass in detail. I’m absolutely in love with how much care the team put into the in-universe stage play 雨と懺悔 (“Rain and Repentance”). Every element feels so thoughtfully crafted, and you can really feel the love they poured into building this world.
Just look at this fictional flyer. It tells such a rich story on its own. The way they’ve credited the original story to Tetsuo Ogikubo (扇久保哲) and direction to Keiichiro Aoyama (青山慶一郎), and then layered in the dual casting where Yuki Shirasaki (played by Taisuke Niihara) takes on the role of Jun Muroga (室賀潤)… every choice feels intentional. It genuinely makes you believe this play exists somewhere in Tokyo.
And the plot? It’s so compelling. A man hiding under a stolen identity in a peaceful rural town, suddenly confronted by someone from his past who knows the truth. It’s dark, tense, and exactly the kind of psychological thriller that would work beautifully on stage. You can imagine how challenging these roles would be for the actors to perform, and how gripping it would be to watch.
What really gets me are the little details. The performance dates, the way they use that authentic Japanese broadcast time notation (like “25:00” for late-night shows), how October 29 connects to the casting episode, and November 25 ties into the show’s timeline—it all just clicks. This feels like a real flyer you’d pick up at a small Tokyo theater.
Honestly, this is what makes At 25:00, in Akasaka so special. The “fiction within the fiction” is crafted with so much love and attention that it makes the whole experience of watching the show that much more rewarding.
I think I finally found my hidden gem this year! Dew kissed a boy, Dew kissed a boy! 😁😁😁 They came right…
STOP I SCREAMED AT THE JIRA THING 😭 I didn’t even fully get the Atlassian reference until you explained it but now I’m OBSESSED with how deep this goes. They really named him after project management software while he’s the one being tracked? The layers!!!
And you’re so right about the piercings and drinking lmao. The show’s giving us this polished aesthetic but real people in any industry are way messier than that. Still, I love that they’re at least TRYING to show the burnout and surveillance culture accurately instead of just making it look glamorous.
SEV1 heartbeat is sending me though. The fact that you’re using work terminology to describe emotional devastation? PEAK. We’re both in crisis mode over this show and honestly I’m here for it. 🔥
The realness is what’s getting me too. Even without knowing all the tech details, you can FEEL how much research went into this.
It’s hitting me from every angle. A rabbit hole I don’t want to come out of. Every frame is poetry,while dripping…
SAME It’s the way every detail is a choice and I keep noticing new ones on loop. A rabbit hole that keeps getting deeper the longer you sit in it. The poetry + the heat is doing irreparable things to my brain chemistry. 🔥 I’m never recovering from this and I’m at peace with that.
Okay so Episode 2 absolutely wrecked me. I was so locked in that my oat milk latte went completely cold and I didn’t even notice until the credits rolled.
I’m 100% rewatching tomorrow; there’s so much happening visually it feels illegal to catch it in one go. Here’s what destroyed me:
Bodies Under Pressure Ko’s insomnia is SO well done. It’s not just the dark circles. When he rolls out of bed this episode, he’s got this gorgeous natural stubble situation going on. And I’m talking actually sexy scruff, not that tragic fake beard disaster from My Stubborn (Sorn’s “stubble” still haunts me). This is the real deal and it is DOING WORK. Visual shorthand for someone whose body won’t let them rest.
Pheem’s tattoo: XII MCMXCVII. December 1997. This isn’t just a birth date; it stamps him into the exact month the modern tech mythos really kicks off. Deep Blue beats Kasparov. Jobs returns to Apple. The tattoo quietly yokes his body to the rise of the machines the show keeps circling: burnout, surveillance, the way we’re all becoming code. It’s a timestamp for when everything changed, worn on skin that can’t log out.
Gun’s performance? I’m not okay. That scene where he’s shadowing Ko, repeating every single word almost perfectly in sync (Ko as script, Jira as echo until the echo cracks), then just breaks down crying? The way his breath catches right before his voice splits? That’s not acting, that’s full channeling. Give this man every award.
Surfaces That Lie Jira going full detective while Ko’s on the phone? Chef’s kiss. He’s literally searching the room for anything with Ko’s real name, and he finds this tiny handwritten note. I pressed my face up to my TV trying to read it. Turns out it’s a welcome letter from the hotel manager. But here’s where it gets interesting: Ko’s name is spelled Korawic on screen (I SWEAR), but MDL has it as Korawik. Korawic feels more natural to me.
Side note: for a supposedly bougie hotel, that stationery is TRAGIC. Like they blew the budget on mood lighting and then printed welcome notes at a corner copy shop. Even the surfaces meant to signal luxury are cheap and thin. Which feels… intentional? Everything in this show that’s supposed to comfort or welcome is actually surveillance or performance.
Jira as Moving Artwork Can we talk about Jira’s fit though? It’s giving minimalist art school meets Kinfolk editorial. Perfectly fitted gray ribbed tank, wide pleated shorts that read more like a skirt (in the best way), black belt, chunky leather shoes, brown messenger bag strap cutting across his body.
The whole look is quiet and intentional, gender-fluid and effortless. Very “I don’t need to announce that I’m cool.” There’s something about how he’s standing, caught between moments, vulnerable in a way that makes the fashion feel less runway, more human.
The camera knows it. Every frame treats him as both observer and object, someone moving through space like he’s aware he’s being watched but hasn’t decided yet if he minds.
This episode is doing so much work layering bodies, tech, identity, and performance that I need a full weekend to process it. But also I’m hitting play again right now.
Yellow tones in pieces from past periods are often used to showcase times of financial/economic hardship, turmoil,…
Hey, thanks so much for taking the time to share all that context. I really appreciate it, and honestly, you’ve given me a lot to think about.
You’re absolutely right that color grading carries meaning beyond just “this is the past.” I get that yellow and muted tones often signal hardship, economic struggle, or emotional weight, not just nostalgia. And yeah, when directors want to show vibrant, hopeful times, they lean into those brighter, more saturated colors. That makes total sense, and I can see how shows like Shine or Mr. Sunshine use that contrast intentionally to separate thriving from suffering, even within the same time period.
I think where I got tripped up with this episode wasn’t necessarily disagreeing with the choice to use a warm, muted palette for the 1997 scenes. It’s more that the execution felt a little too heavy-handed for me personally. The overexposure pushed it past “times were tough” and into something that felt visually older than the era they were representing. Like, 1997 in Thailand definitely had its struggles (the Asian financial crisis hit hard that year), but the look they went with felt almost like they were reaching back further in time than that. Maybe that’s just my own visual association, though.
I also think you’re onto something about the show juggling a lot of conflicts and storylines right now. It does feel a bit soap opera-ish at times, and maybe that’s why some of these technical choices don’t land as smoothly as they could. When you’re cramming in that much drama, it’s harder to give each moment the breathing room it needs to really resonate.
But you’ve definitely helped me see the intentionality behind the color choice more clearly. Even if the execution didn’t fully work for me, I can appreciate what they were going for. And honestly, Saint’s dad really does need that slap and kiss treatment. Someone knock some sense into that man, please.
Thanks again for the thoughtful response. It’s cool to hear different perspectives on this stuff.
Hey, so look, I don’t hate this BL at all. Actually, the opposite. I’ve been showing up every week like it’s part of my routine now, totally invested, you know? But this eighth episode hit different, and not in a good way. I went from being all in to feeling this weird little letdown that’s hard to shake.
The technical stuff in this episode, especially the camera work and editing choices, kind of pulled me out of the moment. There’s this scene where Ice and Saint are about to kiss, and the build-up is so good. You can feel that tension building, like everything’s leading to this perfect moment. But right when they’re about to connect, the camera does this quick pull-back with what looks like the start of a circling move, except it doesn’t quite land. Then the edit just cuts hard to the show-within-a-show thing, and all that emotional momentum just stops.
I get what they were going for. They wanted to blur the lines between the real relationship and the characters they’re playing, create this cool parallel, right? But the timing feels off. There’s no breathing room, no smooth transition to ease us into that shift. The camera movement doesn’t feel intentional or motivated by the story, it’s just sudden. And that warmth they’d built up? Gone in a second.
Once we’re in the show-within-a-show, the whole look changes to this really intense yellowish, washed-out warm tint. I know a warm tint is supposed to give you that nostalgic, period-piece vibe, but this felt overexposed, like almost too vintage. When the text pops up saying it’s summer 1997, I understood what they meant to do, but visually it felt more like the 1970s or something. The color grading and the era just didn’t match up for me.
The footage from their fictional shoot is interesting enough on its own, but realistically, there’s no way they filmed all that in one day. Then when we cut back to the “real” set and Director Sea calls cut, it feels kind of simplified? Like, where’s all the usual chaos of an actual film set? The crew moving around, people adjusting lights, checking sound, all that stuff? It comes across more like the idea of a set than an actual working one, which makes that moment feel a little flat.
And listen, I’m not trying to nitpick just to nitpick. It’s because I genuinely care about this show. I’m emotionally invested every single week. That’s exactly why it stings a little when these technical choices get in the way of what could’ve been a really beautiful moment. The heart is there, the story is there. I just wish the execution matched that energy.
Every show has episodes that don’t quite hit the mark, though. Maybe this little stumble will actually help them tighten things up going forward. I’m still gonna be there next week, ready to watch. I just hope the moments that should make us feel something don’t get interrupted by rushed camera moves or jarring edits. Because when this show gets it right? It really gets it right. And I want more of that.
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This man’s brain is literally a 24/7 musical production – whether it’s full Bollywood or Disney vibes, his imagination is so ridiculously extra that I’m laughing so hard my cheeks are getting a whole workout! 😭
And don’t even get me STARTED – I was SO mad we didn’t get to see him absolutely wreck Wiwid! Plus that whole orphanage bit with Peach? I was sitting there like “okay why is this dragging on” – BUT THEN. Oh my GOD. It ALL made sense! They were literally building up to the most EPIC payoff!
The mafia boss thing? Obsessed. Fully obsessed. And Peach’s backstory literally DESTROYED me – like I was genuinely tearing up. But then Thee just goes full vigilante justice and honestly?? I’m SO here for it! Like yes king, go OFF! And I’m sitting here actually CRYING happy tears about it!
Seriously though – am I okay?? Like what even IS this?? 💀✨
Because they crammed so much in, the main plot is actually crawling at a snail’s pace. On top of that, Singha’s room turning out to be the exact same set as Inn’s room from My Magic Prophecy is hilariously on brand for this production’s budget priorities.
This episode moonlights as a Thai vocab lesson. Our hero Singha has a sister named Maysa; in Thai, Singha means August and Maysa means April, so apparently their parents just opened a calendar and went, “Yes, that’s the vibe.”
We finally get crumbs of backstory on why Singha has a statue of ghost king Thao Wessuwan in his house. The working theory: years ago, Maysa came to stay, got possessed, heard some ghost calling her outside, walked out the door, and just never came back. Peak tragic backstory unlocked with zero mercy.
That disappearance is obviously Singha’s core trauma. Then Mom shows up with a Thao Wessuwan statue as a supernatural home security system for her son, though the timeline is still fuzzy enough that the show can rearrange it later if it wants extra melodrama.
On the investigation side, last episode already tied the case to the spiritual retreat center and the cursed dolls, so that’s old news. This time, Sey and Darin discover all the victims died with the same bamboo shoot dish in their stomachs, which is basically the retreat center’s deadly house special.
Singha sends his team to collect cursed dolls from each victim’s home and zooms in on Ta Khuean, the finance director, as the prime suspect. Naturally, every officer who goes near a doll either has an “accident” or bumps into a ghost, while King is over there cosplaying Rational Cop of the Year and refusing to admit anything weird is happening.
When Singha orders Khem to secure the evidence, Khem immediately runs into the slit-mouthed woman, who tries to make him swallow a cursed doll and choke himself to death. Thankfully, Thup gets ghost-notified and sprints to the evidence room like he’s doing a horror speedrun.
After Singha scares the slit-mouthed woman off, King is visibly rattled but still clings to his “there are no ghosts” agenda like it’s his only personality trait. Thup suggests Singha take the evidence box home since he’s the one guy the ghosts won’t latch onto, and King reacts like someone just handed the killer the master key to the evidence locker.
Later, Singha and Thup go pick up Darin from the hospital and bump into Jump and his sister from the YouTuber ghost-hunting squad. Jump is now half gone, mumbling ghost-summoning incantations and nonsense like a broken horror podcast on loop.
When Thup follows out of morbid curiosity, the slit-mouthed woman pops up again and threatens to eat seven people, including him, because apparently she’s on a murder meal plan with a quota. Singha shows up, flexes Thao Wessuwan’s protective buff, and scares her off without breaking a sweat.
The slit-mouthed woman calls Thao Wessuwan a yaksha, which slots neatly into the lore: Thao Wessuwan lines up with Vaishravana, the guardian king whose entourage is made up of yaksha demons, and yaksha demons literally treat other ghosts as snacks. No wonder she books it the second he’s in range.
When Singha, Thup, and Darin talk it over, Darin guesses that “seven people” means the slit-mouthed woman still has seven more to eat. Right on cue, Jump shows up babbling about Wednesday, and Darin casually mentions that’s his birthday, which might as well be the show stamping TARGET across their forehead.
King then storms in with backup to arrest Thup and frame him as the suspect. The official excuse is that both Thup and Ta Khuean are from Si Sa Ket, so he’s an easy scapegoat, but the real reason is King’s jealousy has gone fully off the rails. Give that man a therapist and a journal, not authority and a gun.
The script makes it painfully clear that King has never actually changed. All that decent behavior last episode was just PR; the second a real love rival appears, he snaps right back to violent and petty, like muscle memory but for toxicity.
The second couple gets a ton of screen time here, which should be a win, except their usual spark is weirdly missing. After a few episodes of solid chemistry, this one feels like someone forgot to plug their ship back into the emotional outlet.
In the end, Sey decides to go back to what he knows instead of auditioning more chaos for his love life. Post-hospital, Darin has their own moment of clarity, they get back together, and we’re rewarded with a soft, beautifully shot bathroom heart-to-heart that almost makes up for the stress.
Next episode looks ready to deliver a full love scene, which is nice and all, but the real main course is going to be King getting smacked in the face by consequences. May the narrative drag him thoroughly.
The lighter stuff, just being around or showing up briefly in Kaew’s space, he can handle. But the second he does something physical or really forceful, like when he actually stops that art professor, you can see it completely wreck him. He looks absolutely wiped, unstable, like he’s barely keeping it together. And then he just disappears. He won’t even let Kaew see him after, because he’s that drained.
But honestly, it goes way deeper than just being tired. The show keeps reminding us that Yai is stuck. He can’t move on to his next life, and the only thing keeping him here in any real way is Kaew’s merit. There’s even promotional material that talks about him “using his life and future lives” for Kaew, which suggests that every big intervention isn’t just burning through his current energy. It’s actually messing with his karmic situation, making it harder, maybe even impossible, for him to ever break free and reincarnate.
And then there’s the emotional side of it. When he has to use anger or violence to protect Kaew, even though it comes from love, he suffers so badly afterward that he just pulls back. It feels less like he’s worried Kaew will think he’s some kind of monster, and more like he’s in so much pain, spiritually and emotionally, that he doesn’t want Kaew to see it or worry about him. So after he saves him, he retreats and carries all that hurt by himself.
Every time he protects Kaew, he’s basically choosing Kaew’s physical safety over his own spiritual wellbeing and over any real chance at honest closeness. Love asks for sacrifice, but the sacrifice just creates more distance between them. The more you sit with that, the more heartbreaking it gets.
Botphleng apparently translates to something like “poem” or “verse” in Thai, and that’s such a cool choice for a crime journalist with amnesia. Like, poems are these carefully constructed pieces of language that create meaning through deliberate arrangement - and here’s Botphleng, someone whose job is literally shaping narrative and uncovering truth, but he can’t access his own story. He’s a living poem with missing stanzas. There’s something really compelling about a character whose name means “crafted text” when he’s struggling to read his own life.
Tankhun has connotations around firmness or stability, which makes sense for a criminologist who finds patterns and creates certainty from chaos. But what I love is how that plays against the situation - he’s TELLING Botphleng “I’m your solid ground, I’m the thing you can trust,” but from Botphleng’s perspective with zero memories to verify anything, Tankhun is actually the biggest unknown in the room. Especially with, you know, the whole dead body situation.
The names also set up this interesting dynamic where they SHOULD complement each other - Botphleng as Tankhun’s poem, Tankhun as Botphleng’s anchor - but the circumstances have completely scrambled that symmetry, and I’m curious to see how they navigate back (or don’t) to what those names promise.
You have to actually look at what’s in front of you and face yourself before anything can change. He pegs Okami as a natural-born salesman from day one, but that snap judgment says as much about Kano as it does about Okami. Maybe he’s been slapping unexamined assumptions onto himself and everyone around him without noticing. As he slowly starts catching new angles and perspectives in this timeline, that evolving self-awareness feels like the real miracle Kagami is offering him, more than any parallel-world gimmick.
Romance-wise, the slow-burn tension is chef’s kiss. The height difference gives every small physical beat between them a visual impact that’s hard to look away from. Episode three builds on the color contrasts from episodes one and two, cranking up that sense of emotional and sensory whiplash. The score in their bedroom scene drifts in at exactly the right moments, wrapping everything in a dreamy, slightly surreal haze. Then the cut to complete silence for the chocolate-feeding moment makes the scene land even harder, letting micro-expressions and body language do all the work. Performance, sound design, and visuals are all locked in and pulling in the same direction.
The first two episodes are all gray and washed out, urban and isolated, everyone so guarded. But then Il-jo goes back to his countryside hometown and Jeong Han follows him, and suddenly the palette shifts to these lush, living greens. It’s not just a change in scenery; you can feel their walls coming down, like they can finally breathe again. The director’s use of green (the nature, Jeong Han’s shirt) feels so intentional, as if it’s tracing their emotional thaw.
Episode 4 completely wrecked me. When Jeong Han sees Il-jo’s bruised face and quietly says he’s not ugly, he’s beautiful, then asks if they can date, it’s such a tender moment, shattering all the defenses Jeong Han has been clinging to. It hits harder than any big dramatic confession could. It’s salvation in the mundane: nothing grand, just real.
It’s only four episodes, but it tells a complete story of mutual healing. Jeong Han makes it impossible for Il-jo to stay invisible, and Il-jo becomes the one person who can unchain Jeong Han. The silence and restraint make it resonate even more. The less they say, the more deeply you feel it.
The show’s called Therapy Game, which is pretty meta when you think about it. So it starts with Shizuma, this straight guy nursing a broken heart, and he randomly hooks up with Minato (who’s gay) at this LGBT bar. They’re both drunk, things happen, they sleep together. But then the next day Shizuma’s like “nope, didn’t happen” and basically denies it to his face. Minato’s pissed, obviously, so he decides to flip the script – he’s gonna make Shizuma fall for him and then dump his ass. His own little therapy game, you know? Healing Shizuma’s heartbreak while getting revenge.
But by episode 6? They’re not playing games anymore. They’re genuinely into each other. Shizuma, who was giving off major red flags at first, has turned into this total green flag guy. And here’s the clever part – he’s studying to be a vet, right? It’s like the perfect metaphor. He’s basically treating Minato like this wounded little animal that needs care.
Because of his family stuff, especially his mom, Minato’s got serious trust issues with love. He’s like a skittish animal, always ready to bolt, refusing to depend on anyone. And only someone as patient and gentle as Shizuma – this vet student who knows how to handle scared creatures – could slowly get past those defenses and teach him to trust again.
There’s even this moment in bed where Minato jokes about having “fangs,” and the English translation really drives it home. Like yeah, he IS that wounded animal who needs healing.
Then when Shizuma goes away for his three-week vet internship? That separation becomes its own kind of therapy. Minato has to learn to miss someone, to wait, to not just run away. It’s such a smart narrative choice.
And that bent cosmos flower at the end when they reunite? Minato breaks off the damaged part but keeps the stem that can still grow, waiting for the bud to bloom someday. The symbolism is 🤌. That’s him. That’s their relationship. The damage happened, but life goes on, and love can still bloom.
The whole episode is just this quietly powerful emotional progression. No wonder people are so hooked on this show.
Okay so I watched this episode again and suddenly all the sexual innuendos resolved into economic theory. Second viewing hit different. Here’s what I missed the first time while I was too busy screaming about Dew’s bod.
The Real Tea: Thirst Traps as Economic Theory
Okay so YES, Dew’s shirtless scene was everything, and GMMTV’s boyfriend bod collection just got another entry. But here’s the twist: this show is using horny comedy as a Trojan horse for a BRUTAL takedown of how capitalism treats creative and tech workers like disposable napkins. Everything about Jira being dick-brained is actually asking: are you valued for who you are, or just what you can produce for someone richer than you?
Spoiler: it’s the second one.
AI Fashion = Shein on Steroids
Koh wanting to buy Thames’ company to train AI designers isn’t sci-fi. It’s literally happening right now. Shein’s getting sued for using AI and data scraping to rip off small artists at industrial scale. The show’s asking: what happens when fast fashion goes LIGHTSPEED with generative AI that can update collections continuously instead of seasonally?
The “brand DNA” argument is basically luxury saying “we sell heritage and craft, not just clothes” while Koh’s like “lol patterns go brrrr, fire the humans.” That tension between art-as-human-lineage versus art-as-optimizable-algorithm? That’s the whole show.
The Dataset Heist No One Talks About
Those generative AI models? Trained on massive scraped datasets. Your art, my photos, everyone’s creative work. Usually without consent or payment. When artists complain, companies either fight lawsuits or offer weak opt-outs AFTER they’ve already used your stuff.
What Koh represents is that Silicon Valley logic where legal risk is just another line item. Scraping the world’s creativity to train your private AI? That’s not theft, that’s INNOVATION, baby. The ruthlessness is the point.
Pheem’s Birthday Present: Mass Unemployment
Koh’s company restructuring, where AI does all the coding and Pheem just “supervises” while everyone else gets fired, is every tech worker’s current nightmare. And Koh makes Pheem announce the layoffs. On his birthday. With non-competes so brutal that Mawin’s basically unemployable.
The show doesn’t say if this is evil or inevitable. It just shows you the DAMAGE and lets you sit with it. “Innovation” becomes code for “concentrating power and making everyone else precarious.”
Vermeer: Proof That Markets Don’t Give a Shit
The Vermeer reference? Chef’s kiss. Dude created canonical masterpieces and died broke with eleven kids. (Truly, the fewer kids might’ve helped with the bankruptcy situation.) He’s the ghost of every artist whose work gets celebrated AFTER they’re dead while they starved making it.
Koh’s AI plan wants creative novelty without dealing with actual messy humans. Vermeer’s the reminder that markets are TERRIBLE at valuing the people who make the culture they later worship.
Big Dick Energy as Literal Currency
Jira’s choices (taking Koh’s sketchy job, instantly stripping for Pheem) look unhinged until you realize his actual currency is sexual excitement, not money. Koh thinks everyone has a price; turns out Jira can be STEERED BY HORNINESS, which is hilarious and terrifying when the object of desire is a paranoid billionaire with trust issues.
Meanwhile Koh’s body (skeletal from insomnia, constantly monitored, locked behind NDAs) is the OPPOSITE of boyfriend material. Where Pheem and Jira’s bodies are playgrounds, Koh’s is a prison. Every shirtless moment is doing double duty: fanservice AND a visual thesis on who gets bodily freedom.
No Merch = Artistic Middle Finger
The show barely has any product placement, which in BL-land (where series exist to sell you branded keychains) is basically rebellion. When your whole plot is “commodification destroys souls,” keeping the frame sponsor-free becomes part of the argument. Once money dictates every shot, you get Koh’s soulless AI hellscape.
My merch prediction? Still accurate. This director would rather eat glass than sell out, and honestly? Respect.
Bottom Line: This show is sneaking you economic theory through BL tropes and asking whether YOU’RE the product being optimized. It’s giving fan service while simultaneously deconstructing the entire system that produces fan service.
I’m obsessed and also lowkey having an existential crisis. See you next week. 🍿✨
https://ibb.co/9k1GxxmH
https://ibb.co/gZ9hNYMm
This production is truly a masterclass in detail. I’m absolutely in love with how much care the team put into the in-universe stage play 雨と懺悔 (“Rain and Repentance”). Every element feels so thoughtfully crafted, and you can really feel the love they poured into building this world.
Just look at this fictional flyer. It tells such a rich story on its own. The way they’ve credited the original story to Tetsuo Ogikubo (扇久保哲) and direction to Keiichiro Aoyama (青山慶一郎), and then layered in the dual casting where Yuki Shirasaki (played by Taisuke Niihara) takes on the role of Jun Muroga (室賀潤)… every choice feels intentional. It genuinely makes you believe this play exists somewhere in Tokyo.
And the plot? It’s so compelling. A man hiding under a stolen identity in a peaceful rural town, suddenly confronted by someone from his past who knows the truth. It’s dark, tense, and exactly the kind of psychological thriller that would work beautifully on stage. You can imagine how challenging these roles would be for the actors to perform, and how gripping it would be to watch.
What really gets me are the little details. The performance dates, the way they use that authentic Japanese broadcast time notation (like “25:00” for late-night shows), how October 29 connects to the casting episode, and November 25 ties into the show’s timeline—it all just clicks. This feels like a real flyer you’d pick up at a small Tokyo theater.
Honestly, this is what makes At 25:00, in Akasaka so special. The “fiction within the fiction” is crafted with so much love and attention that it makes the whole experience of watching the show that much more rewarding.
I didn’t even fully get the Atlassian reference until you explained it but now I’m OBSESSED with how deep this goes. They really named him after project management software while he’s the one being tracked? The layers!!!
And you’re so right about the piercings and drinking lmao. The show’s giving us this polished aesthetic but real people in any industry are way messier than that. Still, I love that they’re at least TRYING to show the burnout and surveillance culture accurately instead of just making it look glamorous.
SEV1 heartbeat is sending me though. The fact that you’re using work terminology to describe emotional devastation? PEAK. We’re both in crisis mode over this show and honestly I’m here for it. 🔥
The realness is what’s getting me too. Even without knowing all the tech details, you can FEEL how much research went into this.
The holy trinity: tech bros who actually have taste, fit checks that go HARD, and visual storytelling that doesn’t miss.
I’m obsessed. This is our year. 🔥✨
It’s the way every detail is a choice and I keep noticing new ones on loop.
A rabbit hole that keeps getting deeper the longer you sit in it.
The poetry + the heat is doing irreparable things to my brain chemistry. 🔥
I’m never recovering from this and I’m at peace with that.
I’m 100% rewatching tomorrow; there’s so much happening visually it feels illegal to catch it in one go. Here’s what destroyed me:
Bodies Under Pressure
Ko’s insomnia is SO well done. It’s not just the dark circles. When he rolls out of bed this episode, he’s got this gorgeous natural stubble situation going on. And I’m talking actually sexy scruff, not that tragic fake beard disaster from My Stubborn (Sorn’s “stubble” still haunts me). This is the real deal and it is DOING WORK. Visual shorthand for someone whose body won’t let them rest.
Pheem’s tattoo: XII MCMXCVII.
December 1997. This isn’t just a birth date; it stamps him into the exact month the modern tech mythos really kicks off. Deep Blue beats Kasparov. Jobs returns to Apple. The tattoo quietly yokes his body to the rise of the machines the show keeps circling: burnout, surveillance, the way we’re all becoming code. It’s a timestamp for when everything changed, worn on skin that can’t log out.
Gun’s performance?
I’m not okay. That scene where he’s shadowing Ko, repeating every single word almost perfectly in sync (Ko as script, Jira as echo until the echo cracks), then just breaks down crying? The way his breath catches right before his voice splits? That’s not acting, that’s full channeling. Give this man every award.
Surfaces That Lie
Jira going full detective while Ko’s on the phone?
Chef’s kiss. He’s literally searching the room for anything with Ko’s real name, and he finds this tiny handwritten note. I pressed my face up to my TV trying to read it. Turns out it’s a welcome letter from the hotel manager. But here’s where it gets interesting: Ko’s name is spelled Korawic on screen (I SWEAR), but MDL has it as Korawik. Korawic feels more natural to me.
Side note: for a supposedly bougie hotel, that stationery is TRAGIC. Like they blew the budget on mood lighting and then printed welcome notes at a corner copy shop. Even the surfaces meant to signal luxury are cheap and thin. Which feels… intentional? Everything in this show that’s supposed to comfort or welcome is actually surveillance or performance.
Jira as Moving Artwork
Can we talk about Jira’s fit though?
It’s giving minimalist art school meets Kinfolk editorial. Perfectly fitted gray ribbed tank, wide pleated shorts that read more like a skirt (in the best way), black belt, chunky leather shoes, brown messenger bag strap cutting across his body.
The whole look is quiet and intentional, gender-fluid and effortless. Very “I don’t need to announce that I’m cool.” There’s something about how he’s standing, caught between moments, vulnerable in a way that makes the fashion feel less runway, more human.
The camera knows it. Every frame treats him as both observer and object, someone moving through space like he’s aware he’s being watched but hasn’t decided yet if he minds.
This episode is doing so much work layering bodies, tech, identity, and performance that I need a full weekend to process it. But also I’m hitting play again right now.
You’re absolutely right that color grading carries meaning beyond just “this is the past.” I get that yellow and muted tones often signal hardship, economic struggle, or emotional weight, not just nostalgia. And yeah, when directors want to show vibrant, hopeful times, they lean into those brighter, more saturated colors. That makes total sense, and I can see how shows like Shine or Mr. Sunshine use that contrast intentionally to separate thriving from suffering, even within the same time period.
I think where I got tripped up with this episode wasn’t necessarily disagreeing with the choice to use a warm, muted palette for the 1997 scenes. It’s more that the execution felt a little too heavy-handed for me personally. The overexposure pushed it past “times were tough” and into something that felt visually older than the era they were representing. Like, 1997 in Thailand definitely had its struggles (the Asian financial crisis hit hard that year), but the look they went with felt almost like they were reaching back further in time than that. Maybe that’s just my own visual association, though.
I also think you’re onto something about the show juggling a lot of conflicts and storylines right now. It does feel a bit soap opera-ish at times, and maybe that’s why some of these technical choices don’t land as smoothly as they could. When you’re cramming in that much drama, it’s harder to give each moment the breathing room it needs to really resonate.
But you’ve definitely helped me see the intentionality behind the color choice more clearly. Even if the execution didn’t fully work for me, I can appreciate what they were going for. And honestly, Saint’s dad really does need that slap and kiss treatment. Someone knock some sense into that man, please.
Thanks again for the thoughtful response. It’s cool to hear different perspectives on this stuff.
The technical stuff in this episode, especially the camera work and editing choices, kind of pulled me out of the moment. There’s this scene where Ice and Saint are about to kiss, and the build-up is so good. You can feel that tension building, like everything’s leading to this perfect moment. But right when they’re about to connect, the camera does this quick pull-back with what looks like the start of a circling move, except it doesn’t quite land. Then the edit just cuts hard to the show-within-a-show thing, and all that emotional momentum just stops.
I get what they were going for. They wanted to blur the lines between the real relationship and the characters they’re playing, create this cool parallel, right? But the timing feels off. There’s no breathing room, no smooth transition to ease us into that shift. The camera movement doesn’t feel intentional or motivated by the story, it’s just sudden. And that warmth they’d built up? Gone in a second.
Once we’re in the show-within-a-show, the whole look changes to this really intense yellowish, washed-out warm tint. I know a warm tint is supposed to give you that nostalgic, period-piece vibe, but this felt overexposed, like almost too vintage. When the text pops up saying it’s summer 1997, I understood what they meant to do, but visually it felt more like the 1970s or something. The color grading and the era just didn’t match up for me.
The footage from their fictional shoot is interesting enough on its own, but realistically, there’s no way they filmed all that in one day. Then when we cut back to the “real” set and Director Sea calls cut, it feels kind of simplified? Like, where’s all the usual chaos of an actual film set? The crew moving around, people adjusting lights, checking sound, all that stuff? It comes across more like the idea of a set than an actual working one, which makes that moment feel a little flat.
And listen, I’m not trying to nitpick just to nitpick. It’s because I genuinely care about this show. I’m emotionally invested every single week. That’s exactly why it stings a little when these technical choices get in the way of what could’ve been a really beautiful moment. The heart is there, the story is there. I just wish the execution matched that energy.
Every show has episodes that don’t quite hit the mark, though. Maybe this little stumble will actually help them tighten things up going forward. I’m still gonna be there next week, ready to watch. I just hope the moments that should make us feel something don’t get interrupted by rushed camera moves or jarring edits. Because when this show gets it right? It really gets it right. And I want more of that.