xinya

First things first: If you’re one of those ”I don’t watch anything without a happy ending” people, well, I personally think you’re missing out, but be forewarned: this follows through on what it sets up (and I don’t think that’s a spoiler, because it’s pretty clear that it will do so from the start). There’s no magic cure in the eleventh hour or cop-out open ending. That said, this drama is not continuously angsty or oppressively miserable. It has a lightness that balances out the pain. There’s actually a lot of happiness, even joy. Just every now and then, you're reminded—today she’s here, vibrant and alive, but it won’t be long before the space she once filled is a hole in this person’s life. As you get further into the drama, the presence of that impeding loss weighs heavier, the happy moments more often tinged with melancholy, but it’s never suffocating or depressing. The drama ultimately affirms that whatever pain will follow, loving is worth it. That person will never truly leave your life. The light they brought to it will linger alongside the grief. The drama makes a straight-up sad ending come off more as bittersweet one. While this drama hurt … a lot at times … it didn’t rip my heart out of my chest. It’s as uplifting as is possible while being emotionally honest and true to the story they set out to tell. My masochistic soul actually would have appreciated a bit more emotional torture, but for most people this probably strikes the perfect balance, and I think even happy ending lovers can survive this.

This has joined my (not actually existent) list of favorite romance dramas. If your taste in romance requires lots of steamy kisses and cute couple moments, this might not be your cup of tea. There is a bit of that and I certainly did feel the butterflies at points, but it’s really more of a sensitive slow-burn that pays attention to the details and makes simple interactions speak volumes. There are a couple “big” moments that lean into the feeling of being swept off one’s feet or one’s heart racing as if it might burst, but more often it's understated. A lingering gaze, a comforting touch. Just having a conversation. Sharing in each other’s elation or suffering. You watch the leads go from strangers to colleagues and confidants to lovers, sometimes through moments of tension or angst but more often in warm companionship and care. Knowing him brought her everything she ever wanted, knowing her brought color to his life, even if he lost her far too soon.

The lead characters take classic archetypes and make them emotionally complex and fully realized humans. Jeon Yeo Been makes La Daeum’s vivacious cheer and endearing awkwardness seem natural rather than cartoonish or put on. She’s equally adept and communicating the anguish of running out of time too soon, desperation to make her mark before she goes, and fear of leaving her loved ones behind. Namgoong Min’s performance is a masterclass in subtlety and restraint. He imbues Lee Jeha with a stoicism that’s soft and quiet rather than cold—the character is aloof and cynical, not unfeeling or lacking emotional awareness. We see him falling for Daeum’s charms and wrestling with the depth of his feelings through small smiles and hints of pain behind the eyes while maintaining his reserve. When character’s transformation comes to fruition, it’s not a jarring shift; it’s the culmination of a gradual development that had long been simmering beneath the surface.

This drama’s themes aren’t particularly profound—they’re pretty self-evident, even cliché, ideas about love and grief and living in the moment. But originality isn’t the point of this drama. The point is that classic sentiments communicated well can still have a meaningful impact. The drama knows very well that its story is old-fashioned and out-of-line with current trends. Because the plot revolves around remaking a 90s melodrama with much the same premise, it comments explicitly on the value of such stories—it’s about the feelings they evoke. In the past few years, I’ve seen a couple other attempts to update 90s/00s melodramas for the 2020s. This one is certainly the most successful.

Unlike many romance dramas that spend a lot of time on the leads’ work, the movie plot did actually seem integral to the emotional journeys of our leads, both as individuals and in their relationship. None of the secondary characters were superfluous (there was a reason for each of them to be there), but I do think the screen time some of these characters got could have been cut down (not necessarily by a ton, but it definitely could have been a little tighter here and there), because while they had a legitimate purpose, that purpose could have been fulfilled with a bit less focus (and without the little side romances). I think if the drama had spent some of the time it spent on the more tangential elements of the movie plot and related characters on Daeum’s father and best friend this drama would have been close to perfect. What I cared about were the people who truly loved Daeum (her father, her best friend, and Jeha) and would be most affected by her death—this was the heart of the story (what was portrayed here was excellent, I only wanted more of it). Everything else only mattered to me in as much as it furthered this core story. This is something old melodramas knew that too many more recent dramas have forgotten and is the one place where I felt this drama failed to fully grasp an important element of the genre it was updating.

From a craft perspective, this drama is a real standout. It has made me curious to watch more works directed by Lee Jungheum. It’s has some of the most artful editing (Shi Mingyeong) I’ve ever seen and changes its style and visual language to highlight certain moments. It intersperses scenes from the past and from the movie at relevant points in the narrative, transitioning seamlessly. Some scenes call back to earlier scenes, sometimes through the wording of the script sometimes through the actions of the characters sometimes through the similarity of the situation. These moments don’t just repeat what came before but cast the same thing in a new light or draw parallels that highlight change from one point to another, a sort of refrain that adds to the storytelling.

The cinematography (Jo Yeongjik, Byeon Jisu) is lovely. It’s not the most visually striking drama I’ve ever seen, but there was a softness to it that fit the mood of the drama. The way the camera moves often felt very intentional. And of course the way they sometimes changed up what they were doing with the camera or colors contributed to the aforementioned artistry. We also got some beautiful ocean settings. The music (Kim Taeseong) was somewhat hit or miss for me. Sometimes I loved it, sometimes it wasn’t quite what I wanted—I would have preferred less electronic sounds and more real instruments, just generally a bit more classic. However, take this with a grain of salt, since I think this is probably an unpopular opinion based on my personal preferences (my sense is that a lot of people wholeheartedly loved all the music).

One final nitpick—this drama does have some annoyingly blatant product placement.

“What’s with this sappy melodrama?” says Lee Jeha at one point. And yes this is a sappy melodrama, one of the most well-executed ones that I have seen. It manages to balance realism and romanticism and is elevated by the creative choices and performances so that it gives you everything you want from a sappy melodrama without making you feel like that’s what you’re watching.