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This review may contain spoilers
Love that breaks all the rules
Bad Buddy is one of those series that you finish with a silly smile on your face and an empty feeling in your chest because it’s over. It’s the kind of story that sticks with you, not just because of the plot or the characters, but because of the way everything is handled with so much care, sensitivity, and love. Directed by Noppharnach Chaiwimol, or simply P’Aof, this work stands out as one of the most genuine and revolutionary BLs from GMMTV and honestly, one of the best ever made.
The premise seems simple: two boys from rival families who grew up hating each other, but end up falling in love. A classic “enemies to lovers,” right? But Bad Buddy takes this cliché and breaks every stereotype. Here there is no submission, no “husband and wife” role, and no toxic love disguised as passion that many dramas still insist on romanticizing. What the series delivers is a balanced, mature relationship built on communication and respect. Pat and Pran are two characters who tease each other, challenge each other, but above all understand each other and that is beautiful to watch.
Ohm Pawat and Nanon Korapat, who play the main couple, are simply flawless. The chemistry between them is tangible, so natural that many times it doesn’t even need words. There are moments where they say everything just with a look, a subtle smile, or the silence that fills the scene. It’s rare to see such sincere and expressive acting, where every touch and glance carries more emotion than any love speech. They can be intense, funny, and incredibly tender, and that makes Pat and Pran more than just a BL couple; they are a real couple, alive, with flaws and dreams, fears and courage.
P’Aof’s direction is another high point. Every scene seems to have been thought out with heart. The cinematography is light, the settings are symbolic, and the editing gives space for the viewer to feel, not just watch. There is an absurd delicacy in the choice of shots, pauses, and metaphors that run through the whole narrative. One example is episode 11, where Pat talks about “quitting the bar,” a metaphor for the breakup. These subtleties make Bad Buddy an almost poetic experience, where everything is there for a reason, and every detail has weight.
The soundtrack deserves special mention. There are only three original songs, but each has an important emotional role in the series. “Just Friend” marks the first episodes, symbolizing Pran’s suppressed feelings. “Secret” represents Pat’s awakening and recognition of love. And “Our Song,” used in the final episodes, is practically the couple’s anthem, the celebration of the love that faced the world and won. Each track appears at the exact moment, and it’s impossible to hear them without remembering the scenes that made you cry, laugh, or just sigh.
The script is also surprisingly smart. It doesn’t need forced plot twists or caricatured villains. Even the secondary characters are treated with respect and lightness, like the couple Pa and Ink, who completely avoid the idea of female rivalry that ruins so many other stories in the genre. In Bad Buddy, women are not used as tools to generate jealousy or drama, and that is such a relief.
The ending is exactly what the story deserved. No tragedies, no melodrama, no unnecessary suffering. Pat and Pran choose love, even if it means living part of it in secret. And that’s not cowardice, it’s a conscious choice of those who have already suffered enough trying to please others. They understand that their relationship only concerns themselves, and that message is powerful. It’s about protecting love without hiding from yourself.
Bad Buddy is an ode to the freedom to love. A series that shows true love doesn’t need to be loud or perfect, it just needs to be sincere. It makes you laugh, cry, fall in love, and believe again that love can really be beautiful and light. So, I have to say thank you, P’Aof, Ohm, Nanon, and the whole team for this masterpiece. Bad Buddy is not just a series, it’s a feeling, and it will keep warming the hearts of those who watched it for a very, very long time.
“You may think that someone like me cannot change the world, but I want you to know that this world cannot change someone like me either.”
The premise seems simple: two boys from rival families who grew up hating each other, but end up falling in love. A classic “enemies to lovers,” right? But Bad Buddy takes this cliché and breaks every stereotype. Here there is no submission, no “husband and wife” role, and no toxic love disguised as passion that many dramas still insist on romanticizing. What the series delivers is a balanced, mature relationship built on communication and respect. Pat and Pran are two characters who tease each other, challenge each other, but above all understand each other and that is beautiful to watch.
Ohm Pawat and Nanon Korapat, who play the main couple, are simply flawless. The chemistry between them is tangible, so natural that many times it doesn’t even need words. There are moments where they say everything just with a look, a subtle smile, or the silence that fills the scene. It’s rare to see such sincere and expressive acting, where every touch and glance carries more emotion than any love speech. They can be intense, funny, and incredibly tender, and that makes Pat and Pran more than just a BL couple; they are a real couple, alive, with flaws and dreams, fears and courage.
P’Aof’s direction is another high point. Every scene seems to have been thought out with heart. The cinematography is light, the settings are symbolic, and the editing gives space for the viewer to feel, not just watch. There is an absurd delicacy in the choice of shots, pauses, and metaphors that run through the whole narrative. One example is episode 11, where Pat talks about “quitting the bar,” a metaphor for the breakup. These subtleties make Bad Buddy an almost poetic experience, where everything is there for a reason, and every detail has weight.
The soundtrack deserves special mention. There are only three original songs, but each has an important emotional role in the series. “Just Friend” marks the first episodes, symbolizing Pran’s suppressed feelings. “Secret” represents Pat’s awakening and recognition of love. And “Our Song,” used in the final episodes, is practically the couple’s anthem, the celebration of the love that faced the world and won. Each track appears at the exact moment, and it’s impossible to hear them without remembering the scenes that made you cry, laugh, or just sigh.
The script is also surprisingly smart. It doesn’t need forced plot twists or caricatured villains. Even the secondary characters are treated with respect and lightness, like the couple Pa and Ink, who completely avoid the idea of female rivalry that ruins so many other stories in the genre. In Bad Buddy, women are not used as tools to generate jealousy or drama, and that is such a relief.
The ending is exactly what the story deserved. No tragedies, no melodrama, no unnecessary suffering. Pat and Pran choose love, even if it means living part of it in secret. And that’s not cowardice, it’s a conscious choice of those who have already suffered enough trying to please others. They understand that their relationship only concerns themselves, and that message is powerful. It’s about protecting love without hiding from yourself.
Bad Buddy is an ode to the freedom to love. A series that shows true love doesn’t need to be loud or perfect, it just needs to be sincere. It makes you laugh, cry, fall in love, and believe again that love can really be beautiful and light. So, I have to say thank you, P’Aof, Ohm, Nanon, and the whole team for this masterpiece. Bad Buddy is not just a series, it’s a feeling, and it will keep warming the hearts of those who watched it for a very, very long time.
“You may think that someone like me cannot change the world, but I want you to know that this world cannot change someone like me either.”
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