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This review may contain spoilers
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"The Third Charm" is a K-drama that defies conventional categorization. It's not a classic rom-com, but rather a melancholic mosaic about what happens between people when life gets in the way. And that's precisely what makes it so special—and, for some, so challenging. It's more of a love story in a minor key—courageous, imperfect, honest.
"The Third Charm" isn't a casual K-drama. It's not a quick fix, no pleasing happy ending. It's a story about timing, change, and the rifts between people who love each other—but may never fully meet.
"The Third Charm" tells the story of On Joon-young (Seo Kang-joon) and Lee Young-jae (Esom) over twelve years – from their first love at 20, to their reunion at 27, to maturity at 32. It is a story about growing – together, apart, side by side.
Joon-young is a sensitive, overly correct planner in a white shirt and white socks. Young-jae is impulsive, honest, emotional—a young woman struggling through life. They are opposites, yes. But they connect where it counts: in their desire to be seen.
The appeal—and for some, the problem—of this drama lies in its unpredictability. It's not a "they meet, fall in love, happy ending" plot. Instead: hurt, misunderstandings, missed opportunities. Some viewers were deeply touched by it—others frustrated. Because "The Third Charm" isn't a consolation prize. It's a mirror.
Visually, "The Third Charm" employs striking symbolism: seasons, locations, and colors reflect the characters' inner landscapes. The creators themselves called it a "poem about love in four seasons." And yes—spring, summer, autumn, and winter are palpable. Not only in the setting, but also in the emotional temperature of the relationship. It locates them like an emotional geography. On street corners, on café terraces, between waves and clotheslines. The cities, neighborhoods, and lines of sight through which Joon-young and Young-jae walk are more than backdrops: They are repositories for what was—and what perhaps could have been.
Spring in Hongdae
Amidst street music, cafes, and youth, two strangers meet who aren't suited to each other—yet can't leave each other alone. Joon-young's sterile order clashes with Young-jae's vibrant chaos. It's March, but the cherry blossoms are already in bloom. Hongdae offers hope.
Summer in Busan
The air is heavy, the sun biting. Young-jae is trying to build a new life in the south. But even though the sea becomes the horizon, the longing remains. In quiet alleys and on Haeundae Beach, the distance begins—and not just in kilometers.
Autumn in Lisbon
Portugal is both a postcard and a farewell. One of the most surprising episodes takes place in Lisbon. Joon-young travels there to gain some distance – and the city's melancholic beauty reflects his inner emptiness. The scene in which he wanders through the Alfama district, a pastel de nata in his hand and tears in his eyes, is almost wordless – but full of meaning. Far from home, one can muster the courage to let go...
Winter in Seoul
Back again. Both of them. But not the same. In a small café in Seoul, they meet again—older, more cautious, quieter. In a small café run by Young-jae's brother, an old song plays on vinyl. They drink tea. No grand gestures. Just a glance. And maybe a third smile—no longer one of love, but full of recognition. The words are missing—or superfluous. Sometimes a final glance isn't a new beginning. But a silent promise that you'll remember.
Esom plays with raw vulnerability, Seo Kang-joon with tender lostness. The pace is slow, at times almost brittle—but therein lies its power: The series demands patience but rewards with depth.
Reviews were divided: Some praised the honest portrayal of relationships, the nuanced acting, and the visual symbolism. Others criticized the lack of narrative direction, the abrupt ending, and the emotional imbalance.
But perhaps that's precisely the point: "The Third Charm" doesn't aim to please. Those who expect love to resolve all contradictions won't find comfort here. But those who embrace the unspoken will find something that lingers. "The Third Charm" wants to tell how love is sometimes not enough – and yet it still remains.
-- This review isn't from me, please click this link: https://www.unterwegs-im-koreanischen.de/kdrama-nach-themen/rom-com/the-third-charm/
(In this drama, there is a lot of symbolism to notice, and the script requires patience as well as careful attention to the scenes. On a more personal note, I laughed a lot and then cried a lot. It felt very raw and genuine. As for the ending, I found it simply logical and natural, but it remains open-ended, since the future is still uncertain.)
"The Third Charm" is a K-drama that defies conventional categorization. It's not a classic rom-com, but rather a melancholic mosaic about what happens between people when life gets in the way. And that's precisely what makes it so special—and, for some, so challenging. It's more of a love story in a minor key—courageous, imperfect, honest.
"The Third Charm" isn't a casual K-drama. It's not a quick fix, no pleasing happy ending. It's a story about timing, change, and the rifts between people who love each other—but may never fully meet.
"The Third Charm" tells the story of On Joon-young (Seo Kang-joon) and Lee Young-jae (Esom) over twelve years – from their first love at 20, to their reunion at 27, to maturity at 32. It is a story about growing – together, apart, side by side.
Joon-young is a sensitive, overly correct planner in a white shirt and white socks. Young-jae is impulsive, honest, emotional—a young woman struggling through life. They are opposites, yes. But they connect where it counts: in their desire to be seen.
The appeal—and for some, the problem—of this drama lies in its unpredictability. It's not a "they meet, fall in love, happy ending" plot. Instead: hurt, misunderstandings, missed opportunities. Some viewers were deeply touched by it—others frustrated. Because "The Third Charm" isn't a consolation prize. It's a mirror.
Visually, "The Third Charm" employs striking symbolism: seasons, locations, and colors reflect the characters' inner landscapes. The creators themselves called it a "poem about love in four seasons." And yes—spring, summer, autumn, and winter are palpable. Not only in the setting, but also in the emotional temperature of the relationship. It locates them like an emotional geography. On street corners, on café terraces, between waves and clotheslines. The cities, neighborhoods, and lines of sight through which Joon-young and Young-jae walk are more than backdrops: They are repositories for what was—and what perhaps could have been.
Spring in Hongdae
Amidst street music, cafes, and youth, two strangers meet who aren't suited to each other—yet can't leave each other alone. Joon-young's sterile order clashes with Young-jae's vibrant chaos. It's March, but the cherry blossoms are already in bloom. Hongdae offers hope.
Summer in Busan
The air is heavy, the sun biting. Young-jae is trying to build a new life in the south. But even though the sea becomes the horizon, the longing remains. In quiet alleys and on Haeundae Beach, the distance begins—and not just in kilometers.
Autumn in Lisbon
Portugal is both a postcard and a farewell. One of the most surprising episodes takes place in Lisbon. Joon-young travels there to gain some distance – and the city's melancholic beauty reflects his inner emptiness. The scene in which he wanders through the Alfama district, a pastel de nata in his hand and tears in his eyes, is almost wordless – but full of meaning. Far from home, one can muster the courage to let go...
Winter in Seoul
Back again. Both of them. But not the same. In a small café in Seoul, they meet again—older, more cautious, quieter. In a small café run by Young-jae's brother, an old song plays on vinyl. They drink tea. No grand gestures. Just a glance. And maybe a third smile—no longer one of love, but full of recognition. The words are missing—or superfluous. Sometimes a final glance isn't a new beginning. But a silent promise that you'll remember.
Esom plays with raw vulnerability, Seo Kang-joon with tender lostness. The pace is slow, at times almost brittle—but therein lies its power: The series demands patience but rewards with depth.
Reviews were divided: Some praised the honest portrayal of relationships, the nuanced acting, and the visual symbolism. Others criticized the lack of narrative direction, the abrupt ending, and the emotional imbalance.
But perhaps that's precisely the point: "The Third Charm" doesn't aim to please. Those who expect love to resolve all contradictions won't find comfort here. But those who embrace the unspoken will find something that lingers. "The Third Charm" wants to tell how love is sometimes not enough – and yet it still remains.
-- This review isn't from me, please click this link: https://www.unterwegs-im-koreanischen.de/kdrama-nach-themen/rom-com/the-third-charm/
(In this drama, there is a lot of symbolism to notice, and the script requires patience as well as careful attention to the scenes. On a more personal note, I laughed a lot and then cried a lot. It felt very raw and genuine. As for the ending, I found it simply logical and natural, but it remains open-ended, since the future is still uncertain.)
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