Reviews

Tecnicamente 10-

Allora, capiamoci: è un 10-perché ha lo stesso problema di Reset. Solo che in Reset essendo anche la storia del fratello che mi annoiava alla fine ho dato 9, però il problema di per sé è lo stesso: non capisco l'età che dovrebbe avere Gun in relazione sopratutto con l'età degli altri studenti. O me lo sono perso io (che è anche possibile come cosa, non lo metto in dubbio) o non lo hanno mai detto, però quale dovrebbe essere l'età a cui entrano sti giovani alla Homeschool? E se questa scuola dura tre anni e Run è della Gen4, mentre loro sono la Gen6 in teoria dovrebbe avere 22 anni? Comunque, colpa anche forse del fatto che Gun sembra perennemente un 18enne questa cosa mi pareva un pelo assurda? Detto ciò il resto invece mi è piaciuto molto. Una cosa che ho apprezzato della trama, è che al netto di tutto gli studenti che vanno all'Homeschool sono veramente troubled teens, anche se poi si shifta e si da la colpa di tutto ai genitori che hanno bisogno di un posto che gli permetta di guarire dai loro traumi, anche attraverso i trials che vengono fatti nelle prime puntate. Poi pian piano, mentre vediamo la nascita della scuola e delle ragioni che hanno portato il master Armin a diventare quello che è capisci che c'è qualcosa di più profondo che non va. Come se il personaggio Armin fosse una persona completamente diversa rispetto a quella che era prima. Detto questo l'unica cosa che mi spiace un po' è il fatto che noi non sappiamo le ragioni dietro al come mai il Master cattivo abbiamo fatto il lavaggio del cervello al Master Armin. Ammesso e non concesso che ci sono cattivi che non hanno bisogno di una backstory tragica secondo me ci stava almeno vedere anche il suo punto di vista (anche perché appunto è il cattivo definitivo, o forse no?). Ultimi due punti: mi è spiaciuto un po' che nonostante i personaggi protagonisti in teoria sono tutta la GEN6 ad un certo punto si perdano gli altri e restino solo i personaggi di Film, Jane, Nani, Dew, Chimon e Love, mentre gli altri ricompaiono solo quando servono, parlando degi studenti, tipo mega punto, devo dire che pare un po' impossibile che alcuni personaggi alla fine si mostrino così amici, viste alcune delle cose che hanno passato, ma forse hanno fatto un po' di trauma bonding, che ne sappiamo noi. Detto ciò sono un po' triste che non abbiano almeno provato ad usare la chimica fra Dew e Nani che c'era diciamo grande. Ultima cosa, il finale aperto. Io li amo, quindi ok, però mi piacciono i finali aperti che siano aperti generici, non quelli dove mi viene introdotto un personaggio diciamo in maniera random (nel senso che c'è una ragione dietro all'introduzione di quel personaggio) e poi chiudere così la questione.
Direi seconda stagione?

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Great show! It's very lightweight and easy to enjoy. Four nosy housewives were on a roll, solving a serial murder and other cases, from daily issues to the difficult one. Together, they formed ZoomVengers, a private detective squad, contained one with a "Sherlock" brain, one with an outstanding fighting skill, and two others... not so sure actually (good with acting skills, and the one provide logistics they said). It has good mixture between mystery and comedy. And the plot twist deserves an applause. Storywriters aren't brave enough to pull such plot twist lately.

The building residents were mostly brainrot. How come they dismissed the flasher issue when they mostly talked about building price? Was the flasher planned to became a tourist attraction? They even with no shame, clapped the ZoomVengers walking out from the Tae Sun's case scene, including the security guards! Like a normal superhero story, it definitely has a lot of plot armours. Tae Sun astonishingly failed to kill So Hui, when he never failed before. The shotgun at the supermarket case held too much magazine. The kid Eun Byeol had nearly no impact. The comparation of Kong Mi Ri to Sherlock Holmes was a bit loose though. She didn't even have Holmes trademark skill: being quick-witted.

It's a good show if you're looking for a lightweight mystery show, when you can enjoy it without having to process everything in your brain for too much.

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Refreshing BL That somehow Breaks the Usual Stereotypes!

Finally a series that steps away from the usual clichés we often see in Thai dramas and also other countries. this show proved that you dont have to be a mafia boss, have daddy vibes or be rich, or be a CEO to fall in love and build a meaningful story.
Duang, introduced as the top in the couple, and STRONGLY managed to break the biggest clichés that we often see in BL series. He showed that, even in real life, tops are not always cold, possessive, aggressive, or intimidating. There is no single standard for being a top, and anyone, with any kind of personality, can embody that role.
That is exactly why Duang, as a cute, lovable, and simple character, felt so special, fresh, and endearing to me.
After seeing so many red-flag and toxic characters, it was truly refreshing to finally see a green-flag character like duang. its imoportant to have characters like him in BL world because when someone who has never watched BL before is exposed only to those toxic stories, they may wrongly generalize them to the entire LGBTQ+ community. they show that the tops in these relationships can also be emotionally healthy.

In short, the story was lovely, and the characters were beautiful.
As for the acting and performances, I think they were at a very decent level, and I genuinely connected with them even the supporting characters.
Of course, the actors still have space to grow, and I truly hope they keep improving and shining more and more
every day, because they deserve it.❤
The cinematography, and color palette were also excellent.

This series portrayed a healthy, heartwarming relationship built on mutual understanding and personal growth.
The NC scenes were balanced, and I really liked that. Unlike many series in recent years where every episode seems to need a bed scene, here it felt appropriate and well-measured. Of course, if there had been more, I still would have enjoyed watching this couple.😁

In one word, everything was amazing, and I truly feel that BL should be like this.
I am so happy I watched it and got to know these talented actors.
A pure and sincere love, far from toxic and violent spaces.Everything was beautiful.
Thank you to the entire team behind this series. 👊🏻🧡

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A drama of unfulfilled potential

Queenmaker is a solid political drama with considerable potential.

The character development of Do Hee is one of the drama's strongest assets. Watching her evolve throughout the series was genuinely compelling, and her friendship with Sook provided a heartfelt counterbalance to the political intrigue.

The first half of the drama was particularly engaging—I was fully invested and eagerly anticipating each new episode. Unfortunately, the momentum began to falter in the second half. As the pacing slowed, I found myself skipping scenes to maintain interest.

The strategic planning and Do Hee's relentless fight against the system were the highlights of the series. It's a genuine disappointment that the drama couldn't sustain its early energy, as it had all the ingredients to be something truly exceptional.

Verdict: A promising political drama with strong character work and an engaging first half, but it loses its way in the latter episodes. Worth watching for fans of the genre and those invested in Do Hee's journey.

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A Crime Drama Wearing a Romance Costume

I'm a big fan of Up and Poom as an on-screen pair. They have this calm, effortless chemistry that makes them feel like industry veterans who know exactly what they're doing, both individually and together. So when this show was announced, I was genuinely excited. A forbidden romance between a police officer and a host who ends up working undercover for him?
That's an incredibly strong premise.

Which is exactly why it's so frustrating that the series never fully commits to it.

Buried somewhere inside Love of Silom is a far more interesting, more political story—one that explores sex work in Thailand, the complicated relationship between sex workers and the police, or even the realities of sex tourism in a place like Silom. Instead, the series keeps brushing against these ideas without ever really engaging with them. I kept hoping for something closer to Spare Me Your Mercy: a crime drama with a romance at its core, rather than a romance dressed up as a crime drama.

You can feel that missed potential in the characters themselves. Wayu's backstory falls into the familiar trope of financial hardship pushing someone into sex work, and despite supposedly being good at his job, he's written as surprisingly naïve once romance enters the picture. Krit, meanwhile, has a genuinely compelling conflict—a controlling father shaping every aspect of his life—but the series rarely gives that storyline the attention it deserves.
Even the undercover operation, which could have driven the entire plot, is introduced with promise before quickly fading into the background.

Personally, I would have leaned much harder into that premise. Let Wayu already be an experienced host who knows Bangkok's nightlife better than any police officer ever could, and force Krit to rely on someone he initially misunderstands. Their partnership could then have become a way to explore why sex workers often distrust the police, how Thailand's nightlife operates in legal gray areas, and how both men gradually challenge their own assumptions about each other's worlds. I think that would have made not only the investigation, but also the romance, feel far more earned.

To be fair, the show does get some things right. Up and Poom's chemistry carries much of the series, and there are moments that hint at something much stronger: Krit slowly questioning his own prejudices, Wayu refusing to be defined by either his profession or his past, and a relationship that feels built on mutual respect rather than rescue. The ending also feels emotionally satisfying.

My biggest issue is that the series seems far more interested in being charming than challenging. It introduces heavy topics—family rejection, homophobia, human trafficking, sex work, gambling addiction, childhood neglect—but rarely allows them the space they deserve. They're there, but mostly as background decoration rather than subjects the story genuinely wants to explore.

Add in a few overly cheesy moments and I was left with the feeling that the show repeatedly reaches for depth, only to pull back at the last second.

Love of Silom isn't a bad BL. In fact, it's an enjoyable one with likable leads and solid chemistry. I just can't shake the feeling that it had everything it needed to become something far more memorable—and chose to play it safe instead.

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everyone needs therapy

Dare I say I don't like Mun Oh at all?

I knew Mun-oh was a jackass the moment he scribbled "trash" on someone's writing. That single scene told me almost everything I needed to know about him.
As a teacher, you have no right, neither ethically nor morally, to crush a student's confidence like that. If you want to criticise someone's writing, do it properly. Explain what's wrong, point out what can be improved, and help them grow. There's absolutely no need for crude, dismissive remarks that serve no purpose other than humiliating the person in front of you.
Bad writing is still writing. Every writer starts somewhere, and your role as a teacher is to guide them, not belittle them just because you think you're above them. That scene immediately soured me on Mun oh, and everything that followed only reinforced my first impression.

I didn't like either of these characters from the very beginning, and I'm glad I didn't. Otherwise, I would've been pulling my hair out from all the second-hand embarrassment later on.
Even then, I like Lee Kang way more than him. That's saying something because Lee Kang is also a terrible human being. The bar is already in hell, so he isn't exactly reaching far above the threshold of being decent. He's a creep. Spying, eavesdropping, leeching off people, exploiting them, manipulating them, voyeuristically peeping into their lives, stalking, and constantly invading everyone's privacy. That definitely doesn't help his case.

But Mun oh? Somehow, he's even more unlikable.
He's hypocritical, hot-tempered, emotionally stunted, insecure, manipulative, exploitative, deranged, selfish, dismissive, and constantly imposes himself on others. I'm just sitting here watching one guy who's years away from death act less mature than someone who's barely beginning adulthood.

The acting was great. Nothing extraordinary, but it was consistently convincing, and I was more than satisfied with the performances.

I also couldn't pay much attention to the technical aspects of the show because the plot completely carried my attention. It was intense, immersive, and constantly kept me engaged, which is exactly what I want from a thriller. That alone makes it a great watch.

One thing the show absolutely got right was its length. Six episodes were the perfect choice. Any longer and I think the tension would've started to wear off. The pacing remained consistently strong throughout, and I was impressed that it never felt like it was dragging or rushing.

My biggest issue with the writing is Lee Kang's characterisation. I still don't know what kind of person he is outside of this entire situation.
With Mun Oh, I at least have some idea of who he is as a person, even though his character wasn't explored much beyond the central conflict. Lee Kang, on the other hand, remains a mystery until the very end. I understand that the writers wanted to focus on a single plotline. Still, because so much of the story was built on deception and fabricated narratives, I never got a genuine sense of who Lee Kang actually was.
I know his motives. He's deceptive, resentful, obsessive, manipulative, and eventually deranged. But who is he when those motives are stripped away? What kind of person is he in ordinary life?

The only meaningful interaction we get that isn't directly tied to Mun Oh is his brief conversation with the director. Beyond that, his entire existence revolves around orchestrating Mun Oh's downfall. He remains so mysterious throughout the series that, by the end, I found it more frustrating than intriguing.
Because of that, I also hesitate to label either of them as morally grey. One extraordinary situation isn't enough for me to judge someone's entire character. People are capable of doing incredibly irrational and horrifying things under certain circumstances without necessarily being monsters in every aspect of their lives. Human beings are far more complicated than a single incident can capture, so I don't feel comfortable making a definitive judgment about either of them.

One thing I absolutely loved was Mun Oh's wife. She's soft spoken, elegant, intelligent, and emotionally perceptive. Imagine being trapped in a marriage with someone like Mun Oh. I'd be livid. It helps that she's a therapist and figures things out fairly quickly. I would've hated it if she had remained completely in the dark the entire time.
Which brings me to Mun Oh himself.
Why is this man so unnecessarily aggressive toward his wife? She remains calm, polite, and composed even when she's hurt and furious, yet he's the one throwing tantrums like a toddler. For someone who's supposedly emotionally sensitive, he's incredibly emotionally unavailable.

The woman is literally in pain, and instead of asking what's wrong or suggesting they see a doctor, he wants her to stay home. Why? So he can continue obsessing over someone else's wife? If that isn't emotional cheating, I don't know what is.

The only peeping I support in this show is his wife secretly observing all of his ridiculous shenanigans.

Another thing that drove me insane: how does nobody suspect the random guy who's been sneaking around the house and peeping through every corner for weeks? OH, wait, that was fabricated lol.

And why would you even let a stranger stay in your house like that in the first place? I understand they were close, but treating him like family and letting him practically live there felt incredibly unrealistic.

Why didn’t Mun Oh question even once about these stories when everything seemed so idealistic and cinematic? Why didn't he question that even after Se Hyun’s dad committed some crime, he never sent Lee Kang away, after all the serious crimes he committed? The man had so much to lose and still kept him around. Do I admire the audacity or laugh at the sheer stupidity?
The thing that frustrates me most about Mun Oh is how completely oblivious he is to his own hypocrisy.

He exploits Lee Kang, barely seems to care about him as a person, and only becomes invested when their conversations or his own work are affected. What did I expect from a man who can't even be bothered to care about his own wife's health?
The show clearly wanted him to be morally grey, but he just comes across as deeply unlikeable.

Honestly, I enjoyed watching him get deceived. He deserved it. Watching him make a fool of himself was incredibly satisfying.
And the ending? I loved it.

Lee Kang did the dirty work. He wrote practically everything, while Mun Oh fabricated a few things toward the end and suddenly acted like the novel was his. That's not how authorship works.

Sure, Lee Kang manipulated the story to suit himself and ultimately betrayed Mun Oh. But their relationship never had trust to begin with. They were exploiting each other from the very start.
Even on the forum, Lee Kang wasn't completely lying. He took liberties with the truth, just like Mun Oh had done with Se Hyun’s dad. Karma really is a bitch.

If I had to define hypocrisy using a fictional character, I'd point to Mun Oh.

Lee Kang was the mastermind all along. Both of them used each other. The only difference is that Lee Kang took things far beyond what anyone could justify.

Watching Mun Oh also reminded me that maturity doesn't automatically come with age. How can someone be so revoltingly clueless about their own actions while constantly acting betrayed whenever the consequences catch up to them?
His resentment is so one-sided that it genuinely feels like he believes the entire world wronged him while he's the only victim.
Even though what Lee Kang did in the end was undeniably more deranged, I still couldn't bring myself to feel sorry for Mun-oh at all.

The final episode especially delivered. Everything unravelled in a way that genuinely felt worthy of a finale. The storytelling served what it promised, and I couldn’t have been more satisfied.
In the end, both seemed to enjoy the thrill of it, so it's a "happy ending" ig?

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The Eternal Fragrance (2026) — Review

Watching The Eternal Fragrance felt like stepping into a richly layered xianxia-wuxia world that balances grand mythology with intimate character journeys. As someone who appreciates stories where emotional depth drives the plot rather than the other way around, this drama delivered in ways I didn’t fully expect. It’s an adaptation of Shi Si Lang’s novel Qian Xiang Yin, and while it carries the familiar tropes of cultivation academies, ancient secrets, and realm-spanning conflicts, what stayed with me most were the central characters and how their growth, vulnerabilities, and relationship anchored the entire narrative.

Jiang Li Fei / Xiao Bang Chui, portrayed by Ju Jing Yi, is the heart of the story. From her introduction as an orphan from Qingqiu seeking belonging at Chufeng Academy, she carries a quiet determination that feels authentic rather than performative. Ju Jing Yi brings a natural warmth and subtle expressiveness to the role that makes Bang Chui’s early scenes marked by uncertainty and a longing for connection particularly relatable. What I loved most is how the character evolves without losing her core essence. Her transformation into Jiang Li Fei is not just a power-up moment; it’s a profound shift that forces her to grapple with identity, destiny, and the weight of hidden lineages. Ju’s performance shines in these quieter, introspective beats, where you see the internal conflict play across her face. She’s smart, resilient, and occasionally witty in a way that lightens heavier sequences without undermining the seriousness of her arc. By the later episodes, watching her confront societal rejection and embrace her extraordinary abilities felt earned, not rushed.

Opposite her, Song Wei Long’s Lei Xiu Yuan / Ye Sha is the steadfast presence every compelling xianxia-wuxia story needs. His character starts with a clear, personal motivation saving his gravely ill elder brother which grounds him immediately. There’s a quiet intensity to Lei Xiu Yuan that Song Wei Long captures beautifully; he’s not the typical brooding anti-hero shouting about revenge. Instead, he’s loyal, protective, and deeply burdened, yet capable of genuine warmth in his interactions with Bang Chui. Their friendship-to-love progression at the academy is one of the drama’s strongest elements. The shared trials, late-night conversations, and mutual support feel organic. As the story progresses and revelations about fates and powers emerge, Lei Xiu Yuan’s unwavering support becomes a pillar for Bang Chui. Their bond deepens into something profound, especially in the sequences where they navigate danger together. One aspect I particularly appreciated was how the drama allows them time as a couple later on, giving their relationship real emotional weight before the final arcs intensify. It makes the stakes feel personal rather than abstract.

The supporting cast adds meaningful texture. Characters like those in their academy circle start as friends but evolve in ways that reflect the larger conflicts between immortals, demons, and other forces. The drama handles side arcs with varying success some provide welcome levity or additional emotional layers, while others serve more as world-building tools. What impressed me was how even secondary figures contribute to the themes of belonging, sacrifice, and balance across the three realms. The mythical elements, including the Jianmu tree and its powerful fruit, set up high-stakes conflicts without overshadowing the personal stories.

Visually, the production is solid for the genre. The academy settings have a serene beauty that contrasts nicely with the more chaotic battle sequences and realm-shifting moments. Costume design and cinematography enhance the mystical atmosphere, particularly in scenes highlighting Jiang Li Fei’s transformation and the ethereal qualities tied to her origins. The action choreography is competent, though some larger battles lean more on spectacle than innovation. Pacing-wise, the early episodes build the world and relationships effectively, while the middle stretches deepen character motivations. The final arcs bring everything together with satisfying resolutions for the leads and several supporting players, including a hard-won happy ending that respects the sacrifices made along the way.

What I loved most about The Eternal Fragrance is its character focus amid the epic scope. It’s easy for xianxia-wuxia dramas to get lost in power escalations or convoluted prophecies, but here the emotional core remains front and center. Bang Chui’s journey from seeking strength and belonging to accepting a greater destiny is compelling because it’s tied to her relationships and self-discovery. Lei Xiu Yuan’s loyalty isn’t blind; it’s tested and deepened through shared perils and truths uncovered. Their partnership feels like a true alliance of equals by the end, which is refreshing. The drama also explores themes of fate versus choice, societal prejudice against mysterious origins, and the cost of restoring balance ideas that resonate because they’re embodied in the characters’ struggles.

Of course, it’s not flawless. Some plot revelations land with less impact than they could, and certain editing choices make transitions feel abrupt at times. The handling of past-life memories and major identity shifts occasionally lacks the dramatic weight one might expect, coming across almost matter-of-factly. Pacing in the later episodes can feel compressed given the scale of the conflicts. Yet these issues didn’t detract significantly from my overall enjoyment. The performances, particularly from the leads, carry the story through any rough patches.

If you enjoy character-driven xianxia-wuxia with a strong romantic core, meaningful growth, and a blend of academy life, mythical intrigue, and realm-spanning battles, The Eternal Fragrance is worth diving into. It’s the kind of drama where you become invested in the people first, and the grand destiny follows naturally from their choices. Ju Jing Yi and Song Wei Long’s chemistry, combined with the emotional honesty of their characters’ arcs, makes the journey memorable. I finished it feeling satisfied by the balance restored and the bonds that endured. It’s a story that lingers not because of flashy powers, but because of the hearts at its center.

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Adult Swim! All the kids get out the pool!

This series was very interesting to me. Mostly because the only other Korean project that I've seen with this much nudity and focus on sex between men was Double Exposure. As an adult who gets bored with the conservatism and modesty found in most Korean projects, it was nice to find something that wasn't made for teenage fujoshis.

It did feel like watching soft porn. However, the fact that it had an actual story and the actors did an excellent job portraying their roles (*wink wink*) considering how comical certain aspects of the story were, made it worth the watch. So if you're like me, you'll enjoy it. I'm probably in the minority, but I actually enjoy series and movies with strong sexual content and/or nudity. The fluffy stuff is cool occasionally, but modesty & purity culture at boring to me.

If the high-school/uni drama, fish-kiss, repulsed by the idea of sex between adults type of Korean bls feels like watching Barney to you then you'll probably enjoy this and possibly put this on your rewatch list.

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I am giggling and kicking my feet because of this one ^^

We continue this GL anthology with Nam, the hotel empire CEO and 110% workaholic, and Chonlada, daughter of the rival hotel chain who wants to prove herself in an environment of disapproval because sexism and misogyny.

What I loved:
— I probably also fell in love with Lada a little bit. I loved her character (most of the time) a lot. She had her morals and principles and stood by them. But then again Phat managed to break her over time. Unfortunate but understandable.
— Charlotte played Lada in a really charming way. Hats off.
— Wardrobe was 10/10 again. All those pant suits? Jealous. Lada also always dressed beautifully. Except for the wedding dress. There I thought it was below her average dress style. Also took some screenshots to find some of the decor.
— I loved the progression of their love and all the little things that happened. I was giggling and kicking my feet ^^
— The appearance of Lam and Fai and Din and Rose throughout the series and not just in one episode. Really ties the anthology together.
— Loved how we got more of a glimpse of Lam‘s character (the police cousin, „Air“). That she‘s a very flirtatious person makes me even more interested in her series.
— Loved that Lada chose to do the „Whose string is attached to the bridal bouquet?“ and not the toss. Curious to see whether we‘ll get a wedding in all four series and if so what method of „Who‘s next?“ they‘re gonna use. I already can‘t think of more but I trust they‘re gonna be creative with it. And here they talked about having children… will we see that in the other series?
— A little detail that I just really appreciated: That Nam is basically blind without glasses.
— The incorporation of water whenever possible… the ocean, rain, pools. I only realised it fully after I finished the series.
— I liked the ring Nam gave Lada. And that the pink tulip became a symbol for Lada and the sunflower the one for Nam. BUT would‘ve been even better if they had included those flowers at their wedding and in the bridal bouquet (but also only realised this just now. So, it‘s not a big deal)… and the sunflower came a little out of nowhere resulting in that symbol not being as strong/established as the tulip.

The open questions & critique:
— The last episode being 1h 39mins long… That is proof to me that they should‘ve gotten 1-2 episodes more for each of the element series.
— What happened to the person that started at Monarch together with Lada? Yes, we see her in kahoots with Phat at the end… but that still leaves us to assume she was the one who poisoned the food at the event. But we never see it. Was she fired afterwards? We haven‘t seen or heard from her since Lada got promoted to assistant to the assistant. I think, I don‘t remember. Need to look out for her on my rewatch. Otherwise I feel like one or two scenes got cut that could‘ve explained that.
— The plotline of the father and the brothers (& Wat’s wife). Hm.
Apparently Wat wasn‘t an active abuser of Lada but a silent bystander. The only good deed he does is at the end when he helped Lada and her mum with a safe spot. How generous. But before he never intervenes. Maybe also because of his wife that he most likely doesn‘t love. At times I thought the wife was a legitimate daughter and sister to Lada that I forgot about. With how she treated and talked to Lada and all that.
Phat… he was a manipulative asshole throughout. Well played by the actor. Very jobless behaviour to follow your sister around like that and make her paranoid. I was not a 100% satisfied with his ending. It makes sense that he tries to flee and leave everything behind and in ruins… but I hoped he‘d be found and sentenced to be the caretaker of his father or something like that.
The father. Meh. Sure it‘s not fun to have a condition like that and get paralysed by it. But… in the end who was left to take care of him? The women he despised most. I don‘t want to forgive him just because he‘s disabled now. This storyline is so painfully typical, it feels realistic but I wished for something else in this fictional world. And Wat? Where‘s he in this equation?
— Okay, next: Lada‘s character arc (+ Nam‘s as well). Loved her most of the time. She acted according to her principles and then slowly because she wants to protect her loved ones and the paranoia Phat evokes. But at the end (+- the last three episodes) I couldn‘t follow her thought process anymore. I feel like we lost her character a little bit. I thought she would at least think (in hindsight) of the possibility that Nam said all these things to Phat because of powerplay and not because she means them. They have known each other long enough for her to know. So when Nam tries to talk it out and she refuses so vehemently… grrrrr.
And Nam being this super clever woman… fair enough. I just remember her police cousin telling her about what she found out but we as audience don‘t get to see that. So we also don‘t know all the things Nam knows and why she‘s doing the things she‘s doing. That got a little frustrating towards the end.
— Also thought Lada would really agree to getting disinherited by the father and fully get cut off from the Wachara Group and family name and then make a name for herself and not take it over (good for her but barely anything pointed towards that outcome). And then for the father to crawl back once she had married Nam. But of course he wouldn‘t do that, not for a woman.
— that one piano background music was used way too many times. I need it to retire.

Since this is an anthology I have to compare it to „The Earth“ (and later on to Air and Fire).
The main thing: The characters in „The Water“ truly felt like characters.
I was happy every time one of the other cousins and Rose appeared on screen. I am very happy that they appeared in more than one episode and sometimes all together and sometimes just one or two of them. Shows how close they are and still manage to visit each other despite their busy work etc.
But it also showed again what still annoys me with „The Earth“… Rose was meant to be a wifey, which is fine, but there‘s nothing more to her character… and that since childhood. smh.

I would loooove to see these two in a mermaid (or something supernatural) GL series. I imagine a very ethereal and otherwordly vibe. mmmh.

And again: I will probably rewatch this and then add +new comments+ with new or changed opinions.
Thank you for reading until the end. <3

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Two extremely wounded (but totally badass) people who learn to become an indominable power couple.

This drama has a high production value, a strong script, and top-tier actors. It's full of strengths. So instead of just glazing those strengths, I want to address it's weaknesses. Because this isn't about why it deserves a high score... but rather what's standing between it and me giving it a 10. Because if it weren't for it's weaknesses, I would give it a 10.

As it stands, I don't think it quite reaches the top of the pile. But make no mistake that it's a quality show that deserves to be taken seriously. The pacing and scenery are luscious. Misty jade green forests, beautiful wood architecture and furnishings, thick silk brocades. The acting springs forth from the depths of sincerity for many of the actors including the ML and FL, who gave it their all, and it shows. The plot is thick, dense, meaty.

With that having been said, here's the main sticking points for me that I think a potential viewer might want to be advised about as far as what you're getting into when you watch this:

1) The romantic relationship between ML and FL is very different from the usual standard romantic fare. For some this will be a huge plus, and for others it will read as a minus. This is not a chemistry-based relationship, and there is no spice and kiss scenes are meager. That doesn't mean there's no fire! There is fire between them, but it is purely emotional fire, forged from deep traumas each of them carry into the relationship and try to navigate as a couple. There is affection. Lots of it. This is a genuine and deeply loving devoted couple. But I have to say, all the emotional power of the relationship comes from the screenwriting and dialogue. It is the STORY between them that pulls them closer all the time to one another. These two have really good acting chemistry together and they are excellent actors in their own right, and they play their characters excellently. But the SPICE-chemistry is not there between these two.

There's a very good reason for this.... both of them play characters that are so very very wounded by their pasts that their souls aren't light enough to contain a budding romantic attraction. No one goes on a spicy date right after something traumatic has happened to them. These are two very battered and battle-fatigued souls coming together to learn to love. Watching it feels A) earned and B) sweetly rewarding. But you'll get no spice here. The romance hardly bears any resemblance to a usual romance story. It's more like watching the formation and evolution of a strong and enviable marriage. The focus is not the attraction between them. It's the *dynamic* between them.

Normally I can't live without spice, monitor-combusting chemical attraction, some form of hotness. But here I found it nice, mainly because it suits the story, and suits the characters. But what I didn't like about it was that there was really precious little lovers-chemistry between the leads. For example if LYX had been the ML, you bet your ass there would have been chemistry all over the place. Speaking of which, Ryan Cheng did a REALLY great job, he was power-lifting his role.... but LYX would have been better cast, imo. Maybe he was busy idk. Or maybe they don't want Bai Lu and LYX paired up over and over all the time. But I digress.

2) The plot is REALLY intricate. Names, places, people, backstories, omg.... it was really good, but at times for me it was headache inducing. I think they could have made certain things more clearly laid out for the viewer. At least it's overdone and not underdone though, amirite?

3) Maybe this is nitpicky, but the AI special effects were a little jarring, considering the show itself is so rich and beautiful and immersive. Every time it comes up, it kind of rips you away from that immersion for a minute. Fortunately, it's fairly overlookable because they only use a smattering of it here and there.

4) A tradeoff of more depth for less excitement and thrills. The more thrilling emotions like imminent danger, attraction, sudden joy, rage, combat, surprise, angst, shock... are notably lacking in the overall tone of the show, and instead you get subtle and hidden dangers, shyness, reticence, long standing pain, small mundane happinesses, slow-stewing anger, guilt, confusion, mystery, intrigue, secrets, and repression.

5) The scriptwriting left something to be desired. It's solid. No doubt about that. But there are issues. Such as the "breakup episode" which wasn't necessary and kind of awkwardly written and devised. The occasional episode here or there that sometimes feels like half-filler and doesn't really move the plot forward very much. There's an episode that starts with FL crying, and I don't watch crying, so I skipped it. Well, it was 8 minutes. 8 minutes of just Bai Lu crying over a montage of her past memories. 2 or 3 minutes is cinema, 8 minutes is just filler for emotional masochists. The dead screentime where we watch someone doing something like walking down a street, doing dishes, looking through scrolls, papers and books, etc. It's not that it's bad. It's just that if I were going to give it a 10, I'd want the pacing just a little bit tightened up and the script a little bit fine-tuned.

It was unique, it had plenty of meat on the bones, it was a solid watch, it was high-caliber... but it was not perfect.

I'm a harsh nasty grader of dramas, so I gave it 8.5/10. It was very very decent with some flaws.

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Nostalgia, Noise, and Growth: Why The WONDERfools Rewards the Repeat Viewer.

Having watched The WONDERfools five times now, my relationship with the series has evolved drastically. On a first watch, the opening stretch feels like a chaotic hurdle. Director Yoo In-shik and the writing team deliver an initial tonal whiplash; the comedy is deafeningly loud, the pacing in the first two episodes drags, and Eun Chae-ni’s (Park Eun-bin) initial introduction leans dangerously close to an exhausting caricature. For casual viewers, this messy worldbuilding is a barrier.
​However, multiple viewings reveal the brilliant method behind this madness. Those overwhelming early episodes are deliberate, laying a heavy emotional foundation so that when the narrative gears click in Episode 3, the payoff hits like a freight train. The true magic of this drama lies in its structural progression and unmatched ensemble chemistry.
​The greatest triumph of the series is undoubtedly Cha Eun-woo. Playing the restrained, traumatized Lee Un-jeong, his deadpan, exasperated reactions act as the audience’s proxy during the early chaos. By Episodes 5 and 6, he shifts seamlessly into the show's emotional anchor, delivering a disciplined, breathtaking performance through micro-expressions and controlled vulnerability that completely shatters his past acting tropes. Combined with Park Eun-bin’s eventual heart-wrenching depth and Choi Dae-hoon’s masterful comedic timing (the giant onion sequence remains iconic), the misfit squad becomes deeply endearing.
​Visually, the 1999 millennium-dread aesthetic is beautifully woven into the script, using clean action and a vibrant, retro soundtrack to reinforce the characters’ internal isolation.
​The show isn't flawless—the veteran cast members are slightly underutilized, and the final villain arc wraps up far too neatly compared to its excellent buildup. Yet, The WONDERfools understands its identity perfectly. It is a warm, ridiculous, and poignant celebration of found family that gets richer with every single rewatch.

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Fun For Watch

Instead of depicting the Edo period in somber tones, this film presents a colorful portrayal of the Edo period, spiced up with a touch of comedy.

Instead of depicting the Edo period in somber tones, this film presents a colorful portrayal of the Edo period, spiced up with a touch of comedy.

Instead of depicting the Edo period in somber tones, this film presents a colorful portrayal of the Edo period, spiced up with a touch of comedy.

Instead of depicting the Edo period in somber tones, this film presents a colorful portrayal of the Edo period, spiced up with a touch of comedy.

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Style Over Substance: A Gorgeous, Gold-Foil Shell Wrapped Around a Frustratingly Hollow Story

I have to admit, I wasn’t planning to finish The Next Prince, let alone give it a second chance. When it first premiered, I dropped it after just two episodes because it felt dull, a little irritating, and not worth my time. It was incredibly frustrating because I’d been following the project long before it aired; the teasers and pilot promised an ambitious, massive-scale royal fantasy blending political intrigue, high-stakes action, and a slow-burn romance with a sharper edge. However, given the long production delays and multiple recastings, I deeply worried the show would just lean entirely on Zee and NuNew's chemistry and intimate scenes rather than telling a strong story. I probably never would have gone back if clips of Net and JJ hadn't kept hijacking my feed; their scenes looked interesting enough to make me wonder if I'd judged the series too quickly. Sadly, my initial skepticism was spot on, and this 14-episode journey turned out to be one of the longest, most dragging dramas I've ever sat through.

To be fair, the series deserves massive credit for its absolute heap of ambition. Domundi clearly spared no expense, putting the cast through intensive training in fencing, archery, horseback riding, piano, and royal etiquette. The production value is top-tier: the sets are lavish, the cinematography is gorgeous, the costumes are elaborate, the soundtrack is excellent, and the Kingdom of Emmaly feels fully realised. Even NuNew and JJ’s musical numbers showcase the massive effort poured into making this feel like a prestige production. Unfortunately, all that polished gold foil merely covers up a script that has zero clue what it wants to be. The pacing takes a massive downward turn into a slow, repetitive crawl from episodes three through seven, completely forgetting the stakes of its own central succession competition. When the plot finally remembers to pick up around episode eight, the tonal whiplash is incredibly jarring. One moment we're dealing with serious mining protests and social oppression, and the very next, Khanin is bursting into a highly theatrical Broadway-style musical number that completely drains the moment of any real seriousness.

The core issue lies in the fundamental writing of the main characters and their relationship. Khanin starts as a brilliant, independent, and witty lead who is passionate about fencing and overwhelmed by his heritage. Then, almost overnight, that personality vanishes. He loses his edge, his curiosity about his biological father, and his rebellious streak, transforming into an immature, overly needy damsel in distress who seems far more interested in wearing silly outfits, ordering people around, and batting eyes at Charan. The romance itself feels incredibly rushed and artificial, lacking the organic development needed to actually root for them. Charan isn't given much depth either; Zee certainly looks the part of a stoic bodyguard, but his character is frustratingly thin, with no real traits outside of his loyalty and a childhood trauma involving rain. Worse yet, heavy beauty filters often smooth out every trace of expression, distracting from the performance.

Ironically, the secondary couples are given far more emotionally raw and compelling storylines, yet they face a severe screen time problem. While most BL fans complain about side couples getting too much attention, here it's the exact opposite; Charan and Khanin dominate the screen while fascinating dynamics like Prince Ramil and Paytai's trauma-bonding are systematically starved for time, alongside underwritten characters like Ava, Calvin, and Jay. The veteran cast and the moving performances of Net and JJ genuinely salvage the scenes they are in, and NuNew delivers some touching moments of grief, but they are constantly fighting an unnatural script where emotional beats are unearned. The activism feels entirely performative and surface-level, serving up ubiquitous social justice quotes as if they are profound truths. Ultimately, everything feels overly staged and artificial, from the clubbing to the market scenes. This isn't a jab at the hard-working cast, and Zee-NuNew fans will likely still find plenty to enjoy, but for me, The Next Prince stands as one of the biggest missed opportunities in Thai BL history. I sadly cannot recommend it.

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