1
This review may contain spoilers
I came for the hype, stayed for the hush between notes
I almost didn’t pick this up. The title, the poster, the vibes — everything screamed slice-of-life, and that genre and I have a long-standing cold war. But the internet wouldn’t shut up about it. “Best thing since sliced bread,” they said. I caved. And while I won’t echo that sentiment (and don’t get me started on the word masterpiece — it’s been diluted to the point where it’s lost all meaning --- even my 10/10 favorites don’t get that crown), I’ll concede: Twinkling Watermelon is quite good.The beginning is slow, yes, but it earns its pace by laying out Eun Gyeol’s family dynamic with care. Ryeo Un, whom I hadn’t seen before, delivers a quietly compelling performance — a son caught between sound and silence, duty and dream. He doesn’t overplay it, and that restraint makes his emotional beats land harder. Seol In Ah, usually relegated to supporting roles, gets to stretch here. Playing two distinct characters, she’s versatile and surprisingly grounded.
On the other hand, I was less convinced by Choi Hyun Wook. I couldn’t decide if he was overacting or if the writing forced his hand, but the disconnect between his youthful portrayal of I-chan and the subdued adult version (played by Choi Won Young) was jarring. It stood out even more when compared to that with Yun Cheong A — a character, played by two actresses and yet they somehow kept the character’s essence intact across timelines. That consistency made her arc more emotionally resonant.
Now about the time travel mechanics? Just suspend your disbelief. The drama isn’t about that. It’s about perspective — how seeing someone’s past can reshape your understanding of them. Eun Gyeol learns to see his parents not as obstacles, but as people with their own silent battles. The theme of communication runs deep, especially in a story where three characters are deaf/mute. Their condition forces effort, while others (like Cheong A’s stepmother) weaponize silence. The older I Chan’s outburst — “How will I know if you don’t tell me your dreams?” — hits like a gut punch, because it tells you that communication IS important.
Then there’s warmth too: I Chan’s grandmother feeding a band of teenagers despite her humble means, grounding the show in small acts of love. I wasn’t here for the romance, and honestly, I wanted more closure on Eun Gyeol’s parents — how I Chan and Cheong A found each other again after the timeline shift. And the ending? I wish it leaned into earned understanding rather than rewriting their lives into glossy success. A return to their humble beginnings, with Eun Gyeol choosing to communicate and pursue music anyway, would’ve been more honest. The “magic eraser” ending felt too clean.
Still, if you overlook the shortcuts, Twinkling Watermelon is a warm, thoughtful drama. Not a masterpiece — let’s retire that word for a while — but a story that understands the power of perspective, and the quiet revolution of being truly heard.
Was this review helpful to you?
Was this review helpful to you?
Was this review helpful to you?
The mystery wasn’t the crime—it was the script
I know I’m in the minority here, but this is just my opinion.After trying to watch a couple of episodes of this drama, it ended up frustrating me, and it’s no fault of the actors.
First of all, I can’t comprehend why anyone, especially someone who is supposed to uphold justice, would jeopardize an investigation by tipping off the suspect, so that the latter could escape, just because she didn’t get to handle the case. I know Ayako is sour about her not getting the credit for her hard work, but this being selfish on her part. She prioritized her feelings first and not being objective in the matter.
Secondly, I’m not denying the existence of misogyny, particularly in a patriarchal society, but the way she was treated by her colleagues and superiors was infuriating.
Thirdly, Am I supposed to believe that after swapping their bodies, that somehow their personalities also changed? What happened to the non-nonsense attitude that Ayako had? It seems that she lost her bravado once she lost her body. Granted, anybody in that situation will probably be fearful of the sticky situation she found herself in.
Fourthly, the way Ayako’s “partner-in-crime” quickly figured out that she swapped bodies with Haruto, as if this is an everyday occurrence, is beyond me. I know I have to suspend some disbelief in a supernatural drama, but even then, I can’t ignore all the loopholes. Sorry, dropped.
Was this review helpful to you?
This review may contain spoilers
After watching a quarter of the drama, I was not motivated to watch it for a few reasons: mainly, the ML's annoying fake laughter and secondly, the FL's sickly-looking character. The over-the-top antics of the villagers and the one-dimension caricatures in the drama did not aid in supporting my need to watch this drama. Then knowing there was all the ill-fated and illogical coincidences, ML losing memories, FL losing baby, SFL losing her man, SML losing his love, really did not entice me to continue. Was this review helpful to you?
Forced chemistry is not a plot twist.
Started off promising—Tang Fan was sharp, the cases had some intrigue, and Sui Zhou had that quiet authority I usually like in an imperial guard type. But somewhere around episode 6 or 7, the tone started slipping. Sui Zhou softened way too fast, and not in a layered or earned way—just felt like they dulled him down to make room for buddy vibes. The tension dropped, and so did my interest.Tang Fan stayed clever, but the drama kept throwing him into weird filler scenes. That whole chopstick revenge arc with Dong Er? Way too many scenes for something that didn’t matter. It felt like they were trying to force enemies-to-lovers trope between them, but it didn’t land. I don’t mind light moments, but this was narrative padding that stalled the mystery.
This isn’t a bad drama. It’s just one that mistakes chemistry for proximity and tension for soft smiles. The “pairing” feels more like a studio mandate than organic storytelling — a half-hearted wink to the censors rather than something the plot needed. Mysterious Lotus Casebook had a similar balance of male camaraderie and female side characters, but it trusted its central dynamic to carry the weight and let female characters exist without forced romantic framing. The bonds there felt natural; but here, they feel like PR damage control. I wanted to love it, but at 15%, I could already tell this case wasn’t worth solving, at least for me.
Was this review helpful to you?
Mythical setting, mortal levels of boredom
I probably should have known that this will be as boring as Ancient Love Poetry, but I gave it a try because my favorite Chinese Actress is in it. But after giving it a good go, I had to drop it at 25%. I wasn’t sure if it was her character or performance that was ho-hum, but either way, I couldn’t justify spending my time watching this bore-fest.Gu Jin is also as dumb as they come. Sorry to say, I don’t find this kind of hero endearing at all. Not only is he a wuss, but he gets away with literal murder (though accidental) just because he’s supposedly the son of the Great So and So. His “punishment” is very light compared to his grave “mistake.” If he were in another Wuxia drama, he will probably get at least 20 lashings, or at least a few severe thunder strikes. But his vanilla castigation is to roam the three realms and try to recover the essence that he destroyed. I’m not saying it’s an easy feat, but he seemed to find them with very little effort. The way he went about it, seems more like an adventure, and less of a trip of repentance.
In addition, he is insufferably oblivious and clings to Peacock Princess as if she were the only woman ever to walk the earth. Not to mention, I already surmised who the villains are going to be from a mile away. Very predictable and nothing worth indulging. Besides, Lu Si’s baby-talking in this drama was grating on my nerves no matter how I much I love her. Nice try, but this ain’t for me.
Was this review helpful to you?
If boredom were a misdemeanor, this drama would have plead guilty by episode three
I picked up this drama expecting a trifecta: noona romance, a strong female lead, and Hwang In Youp doing his best tender-eyed puppy impression. Unfortunately, it delivered on exactly one of those—barely. If you tuned in for sizzling chemistry or any semblance of emotional payoff, I hope you brought snacks, because you'll be waiting a while.Let’s talk about our leading lady. There’s cold, and then there’s clinical detachment dressed as trauma response. This woman isn't so much strong as she is icy with a superiority complex. Yes, she’s competent. Yes, she’s had it rough. But her “strength” comes laced with a quiet menace that makes her less magnetic and more… repellant. I don’t need my FLs to be saints, but I do need a reason to root for them beyond “she's better than the corrupt men.” That’s a low bar, and this drama still manages to trip over it.
At the end of episode three, I tapped out—frustrated, underwhelmed, and mildly annoyed at myself for ignoring the warning signs (read: that moody black poster practically screamed this is not your fluffy noona romance). I kept waiting for “Extraordinary Attorney Woo” vibes and got legal jargon, steely glares, and a romance that felt like a footnote in a courtroom PowerPoint.
Humans are flawed, sure. But there’s a difference between complex and flat-out unlikeable, and this FL leaned so far into the latter that even Hwang In Youp's soulful glances couldn't salvage it. If you came here for healing, warmth, or anything resembling a K-drama heart flutter—you’re in the wrong courtroom. Case dismissed.
Was this review helpful to you?
This review may contain spoilers
Same actor, same letdown.
This is the second Zhao Yi Qin drama that left me emotionally unmoved, despite its glowing reviews and dreamy premise. The story, inspired by the classic Liang-Zhu romance, had potential, but once again, Zhao’s performance didn’t pull me in—and the open ending only added to my frustration. I’m not here for ambiguity masquerading as depth. If you’re wondering how I feel about this one, just refer to my review of his other work: the summary remains unchanged. https://kisskh.at/755723-hard-to-find#comment-22557646Beautiful visuals, decent pacing, but ultimately forgettable. I wanted to care. I didn’t. And I’m not sticking around for a third try.
Was this review helpful to you?
Perfect Marriage Revenge? More like Perfect Midday Nap.
I gave this drama a fair shot before calling it quits. The setup felt eerily familiar, and my brain kept wandering back to Marry My Husband, which did the whole “second chance at life and revenge” premise with more conviction and emotional grounding. Over there, the leads were actually likeable — people I wanted to root for. Here, I mostly wanted to shake the male lead awake; he looked two yawns away from a nap in every scene.To be fair, Marry My Husband had the advantage of time and context — coworkers with history, quiet familiarity, and believable chemistry. In Perfect Marriage Revenge, Do Guk and Yi Joo meet and suddenly we’re meant to buy into this destined connection, but it just doesn’t land. Even the villains feel flat in comparison – they were surface-level and predictable, offering no real tension or complexity.
The emotional stakes felt thin, and the drama leaned heavily on genre structure without building the depth needed to sustain interest. Perfect Marriage Revenge may appeal to viewers who enjoy stylized revenge setups, but for me, it lacked the pull and payoff to justify continuing.
Was this review helpful to you?
If I wanted lectures, I’d audit a class—not a drama
Law School was a drama I approached with curiosity, but ultimately it didn’t align with my viewing preferences. While I could appreciate its ambition and the way it tackled systemic issues within the justice system, the heavy reliance on legal jargon and courtroom lectures made it feel more like homework than entertainment. The intellectual sparring was sharp, but the pacing leaned too cerebral for my taste, draining rather than fueling my engagement.Dropping it wasn’t about dismissing its quality—it’s clear the drama had merit and resonated with many viewers. For me, though, the balance tipped too far into legalese, leaving little room for the emotional resonance or suspense that I look for in crime‑adjacent titles. I prefer narratives that ground systemic critique in character‑driven payoff, and Law School felt more like a textbook than a thriller.
In the end, my decision to drop this drama was about protecting bandwidth and staying true to my shelf ethic. It’s not that the drama wasn’t good—it simply wasn’t for me. By recognizing that distinction, I can respect its strengths while keeping my own curation disciplined and aligned with resonance.
Was this review helpful to you?
Olympic-level talent, gold-medal whining
I just couldn't continue with this one for some reason and it's no fault of the actors. Because I've seen both main leads in other works and I enjoyed those ones (The Forbidden Marriage and Eye Love You). I don't have a problem with Tae Joon's characterization, it's the Tae Yang's that I'm not on board with. I mean, I am not expecting a perfect, strong Female lead with no weaknesses, but it's just frustrating for me to see how this young lady who was once the darling of the tennis world, wastes her talent by hiding her tail between her legs. Then she somehow feels that her ex-friend bullying her is justified of what happened in the past.I can sympathize with people who are victims of injustice or maltreatment where they have no recourse to defend themselves, but it's another thing when the FL inflicts this suffering upon herself. And when I found out what REALLY happened in the past, how everyone ostracized her and sees Tae-young like an infectious disease, I just lost it. It's so easy to blame someone else for your misfortune, and this "sucks-to-be-me" pity party is one I refuse to watch.
Was this review helpful to you?
Was this review helpful to you?
Stretched 18 eps, but my attention only lasted 2.
This drama starts with a strong premise — a man framed, stripped of power, and forced to fight back against a system stacked against him. The tension isn’t about unraveling a mystery so much as surviving each crushing blow, with Jeong U clawing toward justice while the villain sits out in plain sight.Ji Sung, as always, is magnetic. His intensity and sheer presence make it easy to root for him. But even his performance is not enough to hook me onto this narrative. I prefer thrillers that keep me guessing, challenging my trust and moral compass, and here the path felt too straightforward. Even the reviews I skimmed through echoed my instincts --- the second half grows repetitive, stretching what could have been a tighter 10‑episode arc into 18.
I can see why others might find this drama compelling — the emotional beats and the battle of wits have their audience. Still, my gut told me this wasn’t going to resonate, so I dropped it rather than push through fatigue. Because nine out of ten time when I ignore it, I regret it. I don't want this to be one of those times.
Was this review helpful to you?
This review may contain spoilers
Dashing Youth? More like Dodged that disappointment.
Dashing Youth opens like it’s auditioning for a wuxia museum—gorgeous CGI, elegant duels staged like paintings, and enough sweeping landscapes to make tourism boards jealous. But by episode two I was already drowning in the “Eight Young Masters of Bei Li,” plus Sikong Changfeng and Dongjun, and wait—I thought Changfeng was the lead? Apparently, this drama collects handsome young swordsmen like Pokémon. Every time a new pretty boy shows up, I have to pause to remember who the last one was. By episode three, I was already feeling character fatigue: too many sects, too many man buns, and at least four of them look like they share the same wig stylist.The irony is that the fight scenes are gorgeous, the CGI stunning, and the cinematography chef’s kiss. On the surface, it’s a feast for the eyes. But spectacle alone doesn’t anchor a story. Compared to The Blood of Youth, which kept its emotional core tight around a small group and their bond, Dashing Youth scatters itself across factions before the journey even settles. Instead of intimacy and chemistry, it feels like a parade of entrances demanding their own theme music.
Eventually my patience ran out by the 10% mark, so I peeped reviews just to see if I was being dramatic—and nope. Some of the reviews confirmed my instincts: the spectacle stays high while the plot never tightens, the ensemble remains overwhelming, and apparently the finale ends with…the bad guys winning? Forty episodes of that chaos? No thanks. I curate for resonance and closure, not emotional self‑harm.
So yes, I dropped early — and I’m relieved that I dodged that disappointment. I’ll give it a respectful nod but this one is definitely better admired from afar than survived up close.
Was this review helpful to you?
