Good job checking as many of the wrong boxes as possible

"Good Job" is less of an earnest attempt to create a traditional drama and more of a tutorial on how to pack an industry's worth of cliche's in to a single production.

Rich boy/poor girl plot? Check.

Wrist grabs? Check.

Preparing a meal for romantic interest? Check.

Rooftop apartment? Check.

Orphanage? Check.

Suicide attempt? Check.

Blind date scene? Check.

Turning the back on the bad guy to have the following exhcange "Are you ok?" "I'm ok" "Are you sure you're ok" "I'm ok" while the bad guy escapes? Check.

Police officers that never seem to have any backup? Check.

Young, rich, spoiled bully that hangs out at the club? Check.

There's a storyline although it's stretched thinner than the top of a snare drum. Impossibly young conglomerate CEO Eun Sun Woo plays hooky from his day job to secretly investigate his mother's death twenty years prior to present day action. He is joined by former orphan with supervision Don Se Ra. Together, they dress up in disguises and screw up and bail themselves out of more catch-the-villain schemes than anyone not accompanied by a talking Great Dane and operating out of the Mystery Machine. Oh and, of course, they're super attracted to each other but pretend not to be for what feels like half the duration of the Cretaceous Era.

But at least there's some nice diversions that pop up on a regular basis. Lee Joon Hyuk gets some nice comic moments as the ignored assistant to Eun Sun Woo. Eum Moon Suk and Song Sang Eun are given free reign to go as ridiculous as possible as the best friends to the leads and secondary couple. Award winning stuff? No but worth a few chuckles in a show mostly bereft of positive moments.

Neither Jung Il Woo nor Kwon Yu Ri fare as well as Eun Sun Woo and Don Se Ra respectively. In both cases, it's partially that neither have more than two or three expressions (1. bemused & feigning surprise 2. mildly annoyed and 3. overwrought concern for Jung Il Woo with 1. nervous half smile and 2. no expression for Kwon Yu Ri). Jung Il Woo at least has the athletic requisites for the fighting set pieces and Kwon Yu Ri absolutely is putting as much energy in to playing Se Ra as possible. And probably neither of these two are legit lead material. But the "probably" is an important qualifier because neither character gives these actors much to bring to life. What would make Sun Woo more interesting is if he was able to engage in his schtick of operating in disguise undercover. But after about three episodes, this habit only makes rare appearances. And the interesting trait for Se Ra is her supervision, but once Sun Woo finds out it drains her of her energy, she is forbidden to use it. Awesome idea to create these special skills for the two lead characters and then have them NOT USE THEM for vast stretches of the show.

Although the two lead characters are barely more than one dimensional cardboard cutouts, they're inifinitely more exotic and interesting than the villain of "Good Job". Not only does the writing team of Kim Jung Ae and Kwon Hee Kyung hit every element of Villain Writing Malpractice, they manage to discover entirely novel forms of malfeasance. The bad guy is revealed too late. Before he is revealed, his nefarious deeds are so far in the background that they barely register. After he is revealed, attempts to make him seem either crazy or evil are ineffectual. Neither his motive nor his goals make any sense. He has a nickname but it's so ridiculous that the production avoids any mention of it until near the climactic showdown where the thing that gives rise to the nickname does absolutely nothing. Upon being finally revealed, of course, he makes an attempt to bring down Sun Woo. This sequence of dreck features a blindfolded damsel in distress (shocking, right?), a monologue (no one on this team has seen "The Incredibles" apparently) and the villain inexplicably squandering the advantage he went cross country to create so that he can engage in a altogether ordinary fistfight with Sun Woo.

Good job? More like "Needs to Try a Lot Harder Next Time Job". Not recommended.

Leia Mais

An almost perfect match of deftly written characters and an exceptional cast

While "Like Flowers in Sand" hasn't hit the general public consciousness like some of its contemporaries, whether that's due to star power of lead actors in the other shows or other reasons, this is the best drama of recent vintage and it's not close.

The concept is fresh even if ssireum wrestling isn't. The pacing of the narrative from episode to episode is executed almost flawlessly. The dialogue between characters never defaults to cliches and tropes. And the characters are both complex and endearing.

But it is the pairing of the characters with the cast that sets this drama on another level. Jang Dong Yoon plays the lead character Kim Baek Doo, the youngest, somewhat overlooked son in a family loaded with ssireum champions. Baek Doo initially impresses as immature, but as the show progresses, his childlike approach turns out to be more exuberance and honesty than childishness. And although he's not quick-witted, he's insightful. His journey from near-retirement to finding his way as a wrestler by itself is a compelling narrative. And Jang Dong Yoon is brilliant in this role. He nails the gestures, the expressions, the delivery of every line so that it is inconceivable that another actor could have played this character.

There's more including one of the more unconventional romances in the genre between Baek Doo and Lee Joo Myung's Du Sik, a wrestling match fixing scandal/murder that bring's Du Sik's Seoul detective back to the hometown she left as a child, the seaside townspeople's daily gossips, the Kim family's dynamic with three retired champion wrestlers and one brilliantly portrayed mother (Jang Young Nam is stellar) and a warm and refreshing group of childhood friends that reconnect as adults.

The casting director for "Like Flowers in Sand" absolutely hit this out of the park. Regardless of lead or supporting or guest role, every actor is matched perfectly to the character they play. Lee Joo Myung? Delightful. Park Kyu Bin as the young Du Sik? Sensational. Lee Jae Joon? So cool. Choi Moo Sung? Regal. And Kim Bo Ra? So good it is stunning. And it goes on and on.

The score is subtle but strong. The direction and photography don't disappoint.

It's not wholly without flaws as the match fixing and murder story does meander for much of the second half before it lurches forward as the finale starts. And the feints on the identity of the villain are rather clumsy and the ultimate unveiling underwhelms.

These are trivial issues though. "Like Flowers in Sand" is worth watching simply to see Jang Dong Yoon as Kim Baek Doo. But with so much more to enjoy, it should be at or very near the top of any ranking of current or recent dramas.

Leia Mais

Kim Hye Yoon stuns and Byeon Woo Seok is great, but after that?

Attempting to keep this brief.

Kim Hye Yoon and Im Sol are as perfect a pairing of actor and character as can be achieved by human effort.

Byeon Woo Seok is more than capable as a lead and is particularly good when Seon Jae is uncomfortable and awkwardly trying to make something happen with Im Sol. Somehow, when he's supposed to be cool and under control, doesn't seem as natural.

The two together are fantastic particularly through the first time loop sequences up until Im Sol finally (in present day) comes clean about her feelings and the big scene in her apartment doorway delivers the awaited romantic payoff.

These two can duke it out with the lead couple of just about any drama and hold their own.

But the rest?

Not great.

There's a second couple but 1. it's forgotten almost completely from episodes 4 through 15 and 2. they are clearly intended to be the comic relief in a show where the leads provide plenty of laughs so the second couple has to take their acting to a sketch comedy level that is nails-on-chalkboard grating.

Kim Won Hae is great (as he almost always is) but the relationship between Sun Jae and KWH's father is rarely given any in depth play. What could have been a terrific subplot, particularly when dealing with Sun Jae's swimming career, is ignored.

Tae Sung is a promising character but he needed a bit of backstory and consistency. Like a lot of characters that aren't the main two, Tae Sung is too frequently simply a convenient device that transforms in to whatever the story requires him to be. A bad boy that needs to fake a relationship with Im Sol. Later a buddy for Sun Jae. Then an object of jealousy. Intermittently, a character teased as the third spoke of a triangle (thankfully only teased but even the teasing of it was unwelcome). Finally, a cop to pursue the villain. Although the time loop changes can account for some of this, it's jarring when in one loop he's a successful fashion entrepreneur and then suddenly he's a civil servant.

Back to the villain: it's the most bland villain ever and the final confrontation with him is so painfully anticlimactic.

And the storytelling overall is lacking. It starts after major events that drive the storyline have happened but the context is never adequately exposited. The time loops are fairly well handled but there is absolutely one more loop than there needed to be and it's clear that the writers grew tired of incorporating how the most recent loop back changed the present day circumstances.

It's a show that could have 1. been a show exclusively about the lead couple for about an 8 episode run (like a longer "Soundtrack" drama) or 2. a more traditional 16 episode drama that invested more screen time in the secondary stories and characters. Either way, with this lead couple, it could have been an all-time great show. Instead, it's a fun watch and certainly recommended but falls well short of what it should have been.

[EDIT: Wow. Thanks so much to everyone who has liked this review! The positive feedback is very appreciated :)

The review should have mentioned that Im Sol's grandmother, both the character and the portrayal, were wonderful but, frustratingly underutilized.]

Leia Mais

More questions than answers?

In lieu of the more traditional form of review, this author humbly submits the following questions:

Why is Hwang Min Hyun a more expressive actor when he is wearing a mask than after he removes it?

How many subplots can be introduced and left unsatisfactorily unresolved in a standard length drama?

Of the many dramas where one of the main characters is an idol, are there any that are actually compelling, complex characters? Why does an industry that is so heavily populated by idols so poor at portraying a fictional version of one?

Has anyone checked the family register of Hwang Min Hyun and Kim So Hyun to determine if they are siblings because if they were, that would at least explain the complete absence of heat in their shared scenes?

Since he didn't through the entirety of filming this show, does anyone know if Seo Ji Hoon has demonstrated any sort of emotional expression since production wrapped?

Has any paparazzi ever cared a whit about an artist who was strictly a songwriter?

Have the agent and casting director who thought Seo Jung Yeon should play a stonefaced, emotionally stunted assemblywoman been sealed in a homemade submersible and dropped to the depths of the Pacific Ocean yet?

Where does Park Kyung Hye rank among the legions of supporting actors that play the mischievous comic side relief best friend of female lead? All hail Queen Park Jin Joo obviously, but how far down the list after her is Park Kyung Hye?

Which creepy K pop agency CEO is the closest real life facsimile to Yun Ji On's Deuk Chan?

None of these are questions that really need to be answered because this is a show that the less it is thought about, the better. A point for novel concept and a strong soundtrack (if that matters) but everything else that followed was lacking. Not recommended.

Leia Mais

Make sure the viewing platform has a "Skip Ahead" feature

Part slice/end of life drama, part murder mystery thriller and part odd-couple bff comedy, “The One and Only” attempts to bridge multiple genres. Unfortunately, it is successful only in proving that a fairly strong cast with a skeleton of an intriguing scenario is no match for a tag team of inconsistent writing and awful directing. Whatever promise this production might have had in its first few episodes comes crashing down in an unrelenting avalanche of tediously circular story arcs and terrible production decisions.

Ahn Eun Jin is the main character, In Sook, a terminally ill young woman that scrapes by working in a sauna who lives with her grandmother after she’d been abandoned by her father. Red Velvet’s Joy is Mi Do, a social media influencer with lung cancer and little to count on as far as friends and family go. Kang Ye Won is Se Yeon, another terminally ill woman who is a housewife who is left with caring for her mother-in-law with her questionable mental state.

The marketing for “The One and Only” gave the impression that the friendship between these three was the focus of the show. Perhaps the title should have given it away, however, as it is firstly a show focusing on In Sook’s discovery of her first love, Kim Kyung Nam’s Woo Cheon. As far as romances go, it’s lackluster at best. There’s little question that the two are going to wind up with each other. Once they are together, the two on screen alternate between rehashing typical drama fare or doing nothing much at all. What makes this even more dreadful is that In Sook’s most entertaining moments are when she is unleashing a lifetime of pent-up bitterness on whoever happens to appear before her at the wrong time. That this is her peak belies how unsatisfying In Sook is as a lead character. But once the relationship between In Sook and Woo Cheon takes hold, her anger is defanged and essentially so is she.

For Woo Cheon, he is initially best described as a Korean version of Jean Reno’s reclusive assassin from “Leon: The Professional”. He’s a misfit. He has only a single friend who feeds him his jobs. He likes dogs. But as the show progresses and he awakens, he only becomes more withdrawn but now with In Sook. So rather than opening up emotionally, he becomes more akin to Marvin the depressed robot from “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”. It’s as if the director was constantly yelling at him “LESS PERSONALITY! NO INFLECTION! NO EXPRESSION!” And this is the character with the second most prominent role [eyeroll].

Somehow, the crew finds an even less likable character for the cast member with the third most amount of time on screen - Go Doo Shim’s Seong Ja, In Sook’s grandmother. While the cranky and colorful grandmother is a stock character, most have some charm and warmth as part of the role. Here, sadly, it’s all obnoxious and annoying and irrational. Why the relationship between In Sook and her grandmother is so prominently featured when it’s unnecessary narratively is massively confounding.

As for the remainder of the roster of characters, it’s a mixed bag. Joy’s Mi Do is the figure who ultimately is the most intriguing as she faces a legitimate dilemma. Joy as an actress is not on the same level as an entertainer as she is a singer and dancer. She’s fine though and probably would have done better if the script hadn’t essentially skipped over when she finally confronts her dilemma. Instead, the plot shows an ample collection of evidence of why she must make a decision and then teleports to what happens after she’s elected which path to take.

Se Yeon is listed as a main character but is probably, at best, the tenth most relevant character. Like Mi Do, she has an intriguing subplot and it gets a bit of run in the middle episodes of the show, but it gets only perfunctory screen time after a certain point. There’s some more simply bizarre editorial decisions that are made with Se Yeon, but no discussion of them is possible without explicit spoilers. But it’s bad. Really bad.

Lee Bong Ryun is a police team leader that is a badly needed bright spot. It’s not a dynamic role, but she’s a solid casting selection and it’s not a typical police detective. Yoon Bora is a ray of sunshine as a nun at the hospice which is the primary location. She eventually takes a shine to Jang In Sub’s mixed bag of a detective. Kim Soo Young plays the daughter of another hospice patient and shows immense potential as an actor. Someone should make a show simply where she can play a younger version of Park So Dam with whom she bears an incredible resemblance.

There’s a bit of success with the OST but it’s not a prominent feature here. The photography has some nice outdoor shots.

That’s the comprehensive list of positive qualities in the two prior paragraphs. As for negatives, in addition to what’s already listed here, there’s…
-some terrible editing
-Han Gyu Won is brutally over his head in trying to play chaebol heir and Mi Do’s boyfriend Ji Pyo
-the lead investigator and relatively strong character is written off and vanishes
-a character is declared dead but turns out not to be and no adequate explanation is given
-Woo Cheon’s dog, a gorgeous animal, appears early on and then never again. Meanwhile, Woo Cheon is supposed to be an animal lover but seems to have nary a care at all about what has happened with his once beloved man’s best friend
-Great pains are given to demonstrate that In Sook has a severe loss of hearing in the first few episodes. Like Woo Cheon’s dog, it ceases to exist for no apparent reason.
-other than the mother of Kim Soo Young’s character, none of the residents of the hospice seem to have any ailments at all, at least if one were to view their outward appearance.
-Jang Hyun Sung plays In Sook’s father for the sole purpose of to show up every so often in a bout of planet-sized self-pity and to advance the storyline not a single iota.

It’s really a travesty because Ahn Eun Jin is an actor with every necessary quality in copious amounts to be the centerpiece of a blockbuster hit show. Hopefully this quagmire of awfulness won’t preclude that possibility in the future.

Not recommended.

Leia Mais

Want something never seen before? Keep moving. This isn't it. But it's a nice little light romance.

Producer: “Hey everyone, thanks for coming to today’s meeting. It’s good to have all our hair, makeup & wardrobe people together. We’ve got a big item to address today. As you know, tomorrow, we’re filming the high school flashback scene, right? You’ve all read the breakdown I trust. So the deal is, our main character, Yi Seo is supposed to be a loser and a nobody that Seon Woo would never even look at twice. We’ve got to make our star, Im Na Young, look terrible! I want your ideas on how we’re going to do that. Fire ‘em at me!”

Wardrobe: “We’ll put glasses on her.”
Hair: “We’ll put her hair in pigtails.”
Makeup: “Acne?”

[producer stays silent glaring for a minute]

Producer: “Guys. Seriously? We’re not trying to make her look even more cute than usual. She's supposed to be a LOSER. DORK. NERD. Not adorable!”

Wardrobe, Hair & Makeup: [blank stares]

Producer: “What’s our CGI budget?”

Production Assistant: “Zero”

Producer: [rubs face with both hands] “Ok fine, so she’ll be an unbelievably adorably cute loser.”

“Heartbeat Broadcasting Accident” is a web drama that, outside the context of faceplanting on their attempt to make Im Na Young not look stunning, isn’t going to break any new ground as far as novel plotlines and the character roster is nothing but stock, generic types. So its success rides entirely on how well its cast can charm the audience. Although it’s a mixed bag there, it has more positives than negatives.

Lee Hyun Joo is the antagonist, Yu Ra, a successful live commerce host with a thing for Director Cha Seun Woo. She’s the typical selfish, shallow popular girl. Lee Hyun Joo is fine here although deviating a bit from the all-unfriendly all-the-time might have livened things up. Had she been a backstabber on top of everything else, points for that. But with a web drama, there just may not have been enough run time to fit that in.

Points for Yang Hak Jin as the very creepy and terrible ex boyfriend.

The weakest of the cast is undoubtedly Jung Min Gyu as Kwon Hyuk, the friend who hooks up Yi Seo with a job at the live commerce company. The character seems written like he should be somewhat sympathetic, but he’s played so erratically and disdainfully by Jung Min Gyu that he is almost as much the bad guy as Yu Ra.

This show though, not all that unexpectedly, is about the two leads and the romance between them. Zuho plays Cha Seon Woo, the cool former high school heartthrob that’s now a director at a live commerce company and rival of Kwon Hyuk. It’s not the most arduous or novel character to play, but Zuho checks all the physical attributes for a male lead and he’s got credible skills as an actor. He’s given some bad dialogue and that he still is a mostly charming and charismatic character shows he’s not just a pretty face and singer.
Im Na Young is getting regular work but it’s mostly been as an ensemble piece where here she’s the one with unquestioned claim in the spotlight. Yi Seo is not a huge departure from previous characters and there’s certainly questions about whether there’s a lot of range in Im Na Young’s toolbox as an actor. Despite that, she has no problems playing the sweet and bubbly type and that’s what she’s asked to do in this vehicle. Is she leading material in a big production? Can’t tell based on this show but she is capable as an actor playing this type of character. So she gets to play to her strengths and the chemistry with Zuho is ok. And that makes “Heartbeat Broadcasting Accident” a better than average web drama.

Is it groundbreaking? No.
Amazing? No.
Memorable? No.

But it takes a simple concept and competently executes it and, for a bite-size show, is one of the 2021 better productions.

Leia Mais

A simple show about a young woman navigating life. And it is a most extraordinary show.

Simplicity is one of the most confounding and elusive qualities in any context. Take a stroll through a supermarket and try to count how many brands of bottled water are on the shelf. It’s just water. They are just putting it in a bottle. But there are countless variations of it. Spring water. Sparkling water. Distilled water. That’s just some of the kinds. A product as common as an apple can be green or red and within each of those colors are multiple varieties each with their own combination of sweetness, tartness, firmness and suitability for eating raw or baking or to be used for cider or sauce. Simple things that somehow complexity mushrooms out of seemingly without end.

“Yumi’s Cells” is, on its surface, a simple show: a young single woman navigates her career and personal life. The narrative device of animated cells, each of which are responsible for a particular trait of her personality, is intermittently inserted to illuminate her inner mental and emotional processes and how they manifest in her behavior.

While the combination of animation and live action may be novel (at least in Korean dramas), that’s not at all what is remarkable about “Yumi’s Cells”. That is not to say that the animation is not terrifically entertaining. It may not be Pixar quality work, but the cells are mostly cleverly written. The dynamic between the primary logical cell and emotional cell helps keep a bit of a de facto organizational hierarchy. The cells add more than a dash of humor and some of it is in moments where a bit of lightness is decidedly welcome. Done poorly, these segments could have been dead space fillers. But they instead both advance the narrative and entertain simultaneously.

The quality of the animated scenes, however, is secondary to the live action. The production here is perhaps not award-winning, but it has a lovely OST. The photography is well done. The wardrobe, particularly with Ahn Bo Hyun’s Wung, has some standout contributions. But this is, on the surface, a simple show: a young woman navigates her career and personal life. Massive amounts of cgi and a thundering score would be woefully out of place.

As for the supporting cast, its purpose is mostly to provide scenery as Yumi and her inner cohorts navigate daily life. Lee Yoo Bi stands out a bit as Ruby. Park Jin Young is mostly in a half catatonic trance as Yu Ba Bi, but that may be by design. But this is not an ensemble show and the ups and downs of the minor characters are barely on the relevance spectrum here.

“Yumi’s Cells” has three things that shine and shine brightly. One is the editing of each episode and how it so cleverly advances the narrative. No shows, or at least very very few, proceed through time in a straight linear fashion. All feature some manner of flashbacks or time skips or possible futures. Here, although there are flashbacks, it is more that the action is revealed not in a linear sense, but in increasing magnitude of importance. But it is done in a way which does not require a viewer to have a degree in quantum physics to follow. They are simple stories, but revealed in a complex manner. The storytelling is absolutely masterful. Concealed things are revealed at the most opportune time. The pace of how the story progresses within each episode never lags. And although it is a simple show, there is an incredible amount of suspense and it is so cleverly and slowly ratcheted up to a climactic moment. It is a simple show and it simply executes brilliantly.

In addition to the narrative, Yumi and Wung are not just immensely adorable, but they are painfully realistic and relatable. These are not chaebol heirs or hero cops or exorcists or genius orphans. They have anxieties and are emotionally scarred and don’t say the important things that they should say and they don’t always understand each other and they say part of what they need to say but never say the most important part of it and they hurt each other and they hurt themselves and they have all these flaws and, despite all of these things, they still find a way to intimately connect as human beings. And they struggle as two people intimately connected. It is one of the most honest depictions of a relationship in any medium.

The centerpiece of all of this is Ahn Bo Hyun as Wung and Kim Go Eun as Yumi. For Ahn Bo Hyun, this is new ground, both in terms of the personality of the character he’s playing and the magnitude of the role. If there is a theme in his previous roles, it’s testosterone with a side dish of not exceptionally intelligent. Physically, he’s not transformed beyond the hair and a few whiskers. Frankly, his impressive physique is one of the few out of place elements here. Wung is eating, hanging out with Yumi, eating and hanging out with Yumi or coding for hours on end. That distraction aside, Ahn Bo Hyun is a delight as the very left-brained, somewhat awkward but massively good natured and warm Wung. He has range. He has talent. And this is a role that suits him. Quietly, especially towards the end of this run, his depiction of a character who is lost internally but desperately trying to keep it buried is painful and lovely to watch.

As a swirling ball of earnest, bright, vulnerable and determined, Kim Go Eun is magical. She’s had no shortage of starring roles on blockbuster shows. But unlike those roles, here she’s the straw that stirs the drink. Not only that, but as the show is so deeply focused on Yumi, it is her performance that the success of the show largely hinges on. As the show delves deeper into Yumi’s character, Kim Go Eun’s portrayal grows more layered and nuanced. She hits all the notes in the emotional spectrum. She displays both speaking and physical prowess as an actor. The performance may not have a singular spectacular moment, but it is so uniformly deftly accomplished.

Separate, these two leads are wonderful. Together, they are indescribably transcendent. And the show as a result is a marvel.

Overall, it is a show - a simple show of a young woman navigating her career and personal life - that has seamlessly integrated exceptional lead performances and superb storytelling into a captivating package.

Recommended for everyone without any reconsideration, reservation or regret, as “Yumi’s Cells” is the most outstanding drama of 2021.

Leia Mais

Ms. Dentist should have brought more friends from Seoul

The show is part small-town ensemble comedy and part romance between leads attempting to overcome difficult childhoods. The foundation is there for a successful show. There’s some terrific actors in the supporting roles. Jo Han Chul, Lee Bong Ryun and and Cha Chung Hwa are excellent performers. It’s not uniformly great up and down the roster (In Gyo Jin as the district head and Lee Bong Ryun’s ex-husband flops badly), but it’s a serviceable group. Several of the supporting cast appear to function as comedic relief (Jo Han Chul’s Oh Yoon and Cha Chung Hwa’s Nam Sook particularly). The comedy, unfortunately, rarely connects. A great deal of it doesn't land because it relies on crudely portraying the locals as a group of hillbillies that has no fashion sense, no sophistication, can't solve basic problems, can barely operate modern technology and is semi-literate. Punching down isn't a good strategy to generate laughs and even if it were, the characters and cast used to attempt it here execute it poorly.

There's other issues too. Early, it appears that there’s some special connection between Chief Hong and Kim Young Ok’s Gam Ri, but her presence fades until there is a throw-in backstory moment near the end. There’s not merely one secondary romance, but a handful of relationships between supporting characters. None of them, however, get enough screen time investment to pay off. While Lee Bong Ryun’s Hwa Jeong is a strong character and gets enough screen time to develop an entertaining arc, the rest of this crew are not much more than one dimensional characters that only very intermittently entertain. Overall, the ensemble just never develops as it has too many characters, not enough character in those characters and a poor job of weaving the supporting arcs to the overarching narrative.

Which leaves it up to the leads to carry the show. And the leads are more than capable hands. Shin Min Ah is marvelous as the centerpiece character - a driven dentist with an inner warmth that isn’t visible through a normally prickly exterior. The character is far from perfect and frustratingly stubborn as she consistently finds ways to damage the tenuous relationships in her new seaside neighborhood. But the blemishes make her charms shine brighter as she begins to connect and find her way.

As for Kim Seon Ho, this is the most Kim Seon Ho style role ever. It is distilled, purest Kim Seon Ho and for viewers that are looking for what he's done in previous work only with more of it and taken to an even more natural, laid-back, "aw shucks" style, this role will probably never be surpassed. For viewers looking for something that would expand his range or show a new type of character, search elsewhere. But he works extremely well with Shin Min Ah and whether it was written with this intent or simply this actor found the right balance, his Chief Hong is the only resident character that doesn't end up being pigeonholed as a backwards simpleton.

Were it not for some missteps with the narrative setting up the conclusion, Ms. Dentist and Chief Hong would probably contend for best romantic lead couple of any drama this year. But the long-awaited unveiling of Chief Hong’s back story is teeming with cliches and reveals that should surprise exactly zero viewers. There’s also some uninspired dialogue in what should be a big emotional moment. It’s exactly when things should be building up to a grand conclusion that it deflates instead. To confound matters more, there's an explosion of crying and product placement in the final two episodes. Frankly, the last three episodes are a massive disappointment. While a less than stellar conclusion shouldn't completely negate what had been a worthy production up to that point, "Hometown Cha Cha Cha" nosedives badly. Badly enough that it does cast a shadow on the show as a whole.

Recommended but barely.

Leia Mais

Nice guys are not boyfriend material

Somewhere in the depths of the internet is a video where, amongst a panel of speakers, an amiable seeming fellow is airing the usual nice guy grievance that women should be more interested in him and other men like him as they have a lot to offer. A woman on the panel quickly interrupts him and rather succinctly shuts him down (although badly prefacing it by stating that she does not intend to offend him), that despite his belief that he has a lot to offer, he does not. Nice guy is aghast at this affront. End of video. The whole exchange can be viewed in less than a minute. Although not exposited, clearly, a torrid dating affair is not about to ensue for said nice guy.

“Again My Life” is a 16 hour affair that can be rather comprehensively summed up in the same way. The fancy marketing images might seem like it will be a pleasing and interesting show on the surface. Timeloop! [lasers flash] Revenge! [fireworks] Justice served!!! [THUNDERING EXPLOSIONS]

It might seem like it has these many things to offer.

It does not.

In fact, the most memorable moment of the entire series by a country mile happens early. Cha Joo Young triggers the whole timeloop by appearing as a grim reaper that sends Lee Joon Gi’s Prosecutor Kim Hee Woo back to his teen years. It’s over quickly but there's some spectacle here highlighted by some terrific wardrobe for Cha Joo Young.

The next few episodes follow Hee Woo’s initial steps at setting up his revenge against Lee Kyung Young’s Assemblyman Cho Tae Seob, the power-hungry kingmaker in Korean politics. It’s a fairly lengthy setup as there’s no shortage of supporting characters that need to be networked to Hee Woo - mentors, female friends/allies, classmates, family members, pugilists and fellow prosecutors.

Then the revenge actually starts. Or so it would appear. There’s some meetings. And phone calls. And conversations over food. News gets announced on television. A couple guys get dragged in to be interrogated. The good guy pretends that he’s not in his second go-round through a timeloop so, even when he’s telling his friends and colleagues exactly what is about to transpire, he [checks notes] acts normal. How does he know these things? His friends and colleagues question him. He shrugs and offhandedly says he must be lucky or something. And his friends and colleagues buy it, shrug and move on. That’s the excitement quotient on the good guy end. This is practically two-headed, four-armed purple mutants riding flying motorcycles shooting flaming rockets compared to the action on the bad guy side. The bad guy is a graying middle aged man whose evildoings revolve around him having conversations in a living room mostly with other graying middle aged men. The bad guy sports some seriously frightening [checks notes again] cardigan sweaters. In the super suspenseful moments of these scenes, the bad guy will quietly grunt and NOD HIS HEAD EVER SO SLIGHTLY. Not exactly grab a giant tub of popcorn stuff.

As for other issues…

The amount of characters is ridiculous. There’s as many cast members as a zombie apocalypse but each of them are supposed to be ones with names and unique personalities and some sort of reason why the good guy or bad guy has them involved in all of this and why they have some affinity for Hee Woo. But it's all drowned in the sheer numbers of them. There isn’t just one hired muscle guy. There’s one for the good guy and one for the bad guy and one for the good guy’s bff chaebol heiress. There isn’t just one elder mentor. There’s one for the good guy on the private business side and another one for the good guy on the law side and one for the good guy’s bff chaebol heiress. She also has two useless brothers because apparently one useless brother made no sense? There isn’t just one prosecutor underling type. There’s the assistant from the countryside and the good guy’s classmate from law school and the good guy’s female classmate from law school has one too and that’s not counting the one that’s under the middle management prosecutor who is working for the next-level-up but still middle management prosecutor. They all end up faceless and barely distinguishable from each other. Slap some fake blood and gray makeup on them and it might as well be a zombie horde.

Lee Joon Gi is a fine enough actor to be a male lead, but not this male lead. Hee Woo isn’t just a prosecutor. He’s a prosecutor that likes to be on the front line and occasionally mixing it up martial arts style with bad guys. Athletically, Lee Joon Gi can get by. But it’s impossible to hide that he’s at least two weight classes smaller than every other actor on set.

There’s a brief snippet or two of internal dialogue in Hee Woo’s head of pondering what the butterfly effect will be by him altering the course of events. This show needed a heavy, heavy dose of this but opted instead for boring bad guy and his boring wannabes mumbling at each other. Or recycling another scene where Hee Woo and his crew sit and talk. Or they talk on the phone. Or two characters have a conversation where they decide that one of them will summon another character and ask them to do something. And then the other character will be summoned and the dialogue from the earlier meeting will be repeated. And the other character will be asked to do the thing. And the other character will say “OK”. End of scene.

As for character growth and development, Hee Woo is the same in episode two and episode four and episode ten and episode fourteen. Bad guy? Same. Female bff chaebol heiress? She actually says out loud that she is going to leave behind her normal life but does her personality change? Not even a little bit. Any of the not-zombies-but-might-as-well-be horde? Absolutely not.

Moreover, Kim Ji Eun seems about as natural an actress for a rom-com as a production could find. Why she and her management seem bent on appearing in spy and legal thriller genre pieces is mystifying. She's just not going to generate the emotional intensity that playing this kind of character requires.

Late, very late, the show attempts to generate action and move some of the supporting characters in to more of a spotlight. But it's difficult to get emotionally invested in a character that's been on the periphery and barely on camera for the past ten-plus episodes.

OST? Nothing out of the ordinary.

Interesting scenery? No.

Romance? Barely a hint of it.

Sex? Nope.

Gore? Zero.

Humor? None.

Tension? Intrigue? Suspense? Zip.

Most damning is that there is no element of “Again My Life” that can be raised as a “Yes but…” Something that when this laundry list of flaws is recited, could be brought forth as a counterargument. Something that when a critic would raise, for instance, how lackluster a villain is present here, a fan could reply “Yes, but look at This Thing. it also has This Wonderful Quality that makes it worth watching.” It has nothing of the sort. It excels at nothing. It’s not even interesting at being bad at so many things. It was meant to breathe life back into a hero and bring a horrible villain to justice. Only there’s no breath and no life in any of it.

Ok fine. It has Cha Joo Young in a killer, bright red pantsuit on top of a skyscraper for a few minutes.

If timeloops do exist, someone should take one back to the production meeting where this got pitched and stop it from ever happening. Obviously not recommended.

[author's note: Contrary to the headline, it's really not that nice guys aren't boyfriend material. It's that anyone that claims to be a nice guy is almost certainly not.]

Leia Mais

The spy is strong but spy show is weak

The spy genre has some of the biggest franchises in the global entertainment biz: Bond. Bourne. Jack Ryan.

“The Veil” takes being part of the spy family seriously, unwaveringly seriously. Namgoong Min as Han Ji Hyuk, ace spy, has all the physical attributes. He looks like he could step in any pro level MMA ring and hold his own. The business suit attire scarcely conceals Ji Hyuk's prodigious musculature. But playing a hero is more than muscle and while Han Ji Hyuk checks a lot of boxes (amnesia, rule-breaking persona, tactical genius, piercing glare), something is missing. He’s such a cold-calculating assassin type, the character ends up so robotic that he’s difficult to cheer for. The speech is monotone. The face is expressionless. The clothing is black and white. Even when he fights, he's so brutally efficient at it that there's not much entertainment value there either.

The other significant issue of “The Veil” is one of the necessary elements of any good vs. evil story - someone to root against. A worthy villain is indispensable. So here, a very bad guy (a drug dealer) pops up quickly early on. But the focus then changes as it turns out someone else is behind him. Then there’s a rogue NIS agent. No wait, it’s a whole secret gang. Or no, it's a secret faction in the NIS. And North Koreans are involved somehow? Wait, no there is some other bad guy pulling the strings. Not that one. Another one. But maybe let’s humanize the character.

[sigh]

Without someone to coalesce some healthy dislike towards, it’s difficult to care whether our not-so-symphathetic hero succeeds or whether the entire cast simply sets sail into deep space to never be seen or heard from again.

Plenty of spy show cliches too. The car chases. The computer hacking. The agency turf battle. Oy.

It’s not entirely bad. Jang Young Nam brings her typical intensity but this time to a more rounded character. Jung Moon Sung is strong as the rogue NIS adversary of Han Ji Hyuk but he hardly establishes a presence in a too brief appearance. Kim Ji Eun’s Je Yi is a fairly nondescript character, but she infuses Je Yi with a spark of humanity and warmth. Park Ha Sun doesn’t have Jang Young Nam’s gravitas to really sell a spy role, but her hairstyle is killer. Grasping for straws here? Seems to be the case.

“The Veil” has some good elements. There’s some fine actors. There’s good action set pieces. There’s some above average production in the sound and photography. But the pieces don’t connect thanks to a collection of one dimensional characters, an unnecessarily convoluted plot and dialogue that could be cut-and-pasted from any number of other entries in the spy genre.

Not recommended.

Leia Mais

Shin Hyun Bin is lights out. The rest is more of a flicker, but it's intriguing enough overall

Viewing “Reflection of You” may require a different mindset for viewers who prefer their shows with a clear good guy(s) versus bad guy(s) or at least someone in the character roster that a viewer might aspire to be like and relate easily to. This is not that production. The suggestion for those who might find this disconcerting is to think of “Reflection of You” as less like a work of fiction about a conflict between a rich family with a troubled marriage and the couple that becomes entwined in their affairs and more of a competition. But instead of competing in a sort of athletic superiority, it’s a race to see which character can be the most horrible person alive. Only it’s not just among the characters on the show, they’re competing to be number one awful human on the planet. And folks, this is a crew with Olympic level quality across the board.

A bit of a digression here. For those readers that have seen the brief marketing writeup of the show, it is misleading and should be wholly ignored. This is a story of two women who became friends through their painting. One married into a rich family and the other was romantic with another artist. The married woman, Hee Joo, begins an affair with Woo Jae, the boyfriend of Hae Won. Hee Joo and Woo Jae end up in Ireland together, then Hee Joo returns to Korea, Woo Jae ends up in a coma for three years and Hae Won begins to seek revenge for being wronged. There’s also a whole circle of other characters with axes to grind and knives to stab and grievances to air. Honesty is rare, kindness is served with a side of self-serving purpose and warmth has supply chain issues.

Hee Joo is the central character as she is the only character directly connected with the other major players, her husband, her former friend and her lover. For the present day events, she’s the target of revenge but Go Hyun Jung never satisfactorily sells the character as a sympathetic one. She crushes the scenes when Hee Joo drops the mask and her desperate anger and hypocrisy are on full display. But most of the time, Hee Joo is trying to act normal and it doesn’t connect nearly as well. That’s a problem as without a sympathetic character in the middle of everything, it saps the tension that should be building between the other three pulling her in different directions.

Woo Jae shows up late to the proceedings as he begins the show still recovering from a coma. Kim Jae Young doesn’t do anything particularly special with the character. He’s definitely got the brooding looks and has no trouble with the half-baffled state that Woo Jae spends much of the narrative within. But when Woo Jae regains his faculties, Kim Jae Young doesn’t muster the intensity and rawness needed to transform the character to what he should be.

Quality of performance is no issue for Shin Hyun Bin. She magnificently captures the most subtle expressions, changes in tone and cadence and Hae Won’s wearied posture. Hae Won has a maelstrom of anger and resentment internally but outwardly is measured and mysterious. Of all the characters that alternate between victim and agressor, she is the most compelling in either form. When she is the character that is moving the narrative forward, whether with rightful anger or morally questionable methods, “Reflection of You” gets serious traction when she is in the spotlight.

There’s also a supporting performance by Jang Hye Jin, who follows a couple of roles in comedy centered productions with a blistering performance as Hee Joo’s sister-in-law and an afterthought child under a powerful, cold mother.

Unfortunately, the arc must bend away at a certain point and the steam that Hae Won has generated slowly seeps out. Although the confrontations and arguments and unpleasantness continue to build as the players each seek widely disparate objectives, the emotional resonance over the last third of the show never connects at more than a half-fever pitch.

Despite some manner of imperfections, “Reflection of You” is a strong show and worth watching, but it is primarily for the masterpiece of Shin Hyun Bin’s performance. It is among a very few of the finest acting performances of 2021.

Leia Mais

Salmonella warning

Sushi doesn't need to be cooked. Chicken is a different story. Perhaps if "Delivery" was about a sushi delivery, things would have come out fully cooked, but this show is about chickens, fried chicken and a company that delivers it. It's not an altogether bad concept. But it's not even half baked. Or is it fried?

In any event, it starts with a perfectly suitable setup. Mi Yeon is the ace delivery driver. Lee Tae Vin and Kim Jae Won are sidekick material. There's a missing mom, a mysterious hotel room, an alien cult and a ridiculous wig. None of these by themselves are really flaws. But there's not a fully developed show around all this. In eight episodes that run 8-10 minutes each, only the first and last episode have more than a shred of actual action. There's also a brief rehash of the previous episode and credits. All told, there's only about a dozen minutes of legitimate content and a good chunk of that is incoherently edited fighting set pieces.

The main culprit is that there's just no dialogue. Without lines for the actors and almost entire episodes with no forward plot movement, even an 8 minute episode is tiresome. Obviously the budget for this project was extremely limited, but that's no excuse for not having any semblance of a script. In the absence of it, there isn't even much to praise or criticize. It's simply an empty (egg)shell.

Not recommended.

Leia Mais

Melancholy & moody

On May 6, 1937, the airship Hindenburg was incinerated in just under forty seconds.

Approximately twenty-five years later, a coal seam in a mine under Centralia, West Virginia, caught fire and is still burning. According to one report, it may continue to burn for another two hundred years or more.

These are handy references for a burn rate spectrum. As for the drama “Lost”, on the Hindenburg-Centralia Burn Rate Scale, it falls on the Centralia side. Way, way, WAY over on the Centralia side.

“Lost” is far less about plot than it is about mood. Some things happen. Not as quickly as the viewer might expect them to happen. Sometimes events appear imminent only to recede back to mere possibilities for a long stretch. As for mood, it’s not jovial. Somber? Yes. Melancholy? Definitely. Depressed? That’s where it gets complicated.

Jeon De Yeon’s Boo Jung and Ryu Joon Yeol’s Kang Jae are both emotionally distraught, distant from almost everyone they know and both with only one healthy relationship. Boo Jung with her father, Park In Hwan in a sharp portrayal of an elderly man in decline, and Kang Jae with his friend Sun Joo played by Yoo Soo Bin. Their careers are not what they imagined them to be. Boo Jung’s relationship with her husband is so distant it barely qualifies as a relationship. Kang Jae has lived his life measuring relationships by how much money he gets from it and, despite his natural attributes, has found such a life wanting for meaning.

Chance encounters lead to more meaningful exchanges and openness. As characters seeking human connection, these encounters become more by design and less by chance. Whether it will lead to an escape from loneliness and loss, well, that’s the journey they’re on.

There’s some deft editing as the show alternates smoothly between dialogue and narration. And the dialogue is quite good. The acting as a whole is very strong. Jeon De Yeon is convincing as a naturally quiet but talented writer with an inner fire. Ryu Joon Yeol is aloof and clever and charismatic. There is not a weakness in the supporting cast either. Of particular note, Yoo Soo Bin is a delightfully introverted and naive part-timer at an internet cafe. Son Na Eun is incendiary as a failed idol trainee who sometimes hustles with Kang Jae and has Sun Joo in her sights. Whether she is legitimately interested in him or sees him as a useful mark, her performance is sublimely ambiguous.

“Lost” is, however, a serious test of patience. There’s some long and some really long stretches of very little happening. One subplot involves a celebrity with a long history of abuse so vicious and dangerous that it could not credibly be kept secret. As the backstory is filled in and the arc progresses in the present time, the show doesn’t always telegraph how time is flowing. It’s a minor flaw for most shows, but in “Lost’ where so much is invested in creating this extraordinarily slow build of tension, it’s problematic.

For viewers looking for character study, none of the usual rom-com devices and lots of existential musings, “Lost” is the show. For those looking for comedy or spy thrillers, keep swiping.

Leia Mais

An enjoyable, if messy and uneven, behind-the-stage-curtain adventure

Prior to “Idol: The Coup”, the category of dramas that wanted to feature storylines based around K Pop characters could have been labeled “Irony: The Subgenre”. Why? Because while K Pop has become a global phenomenon with explosive growth and overflowing with powerfully charismatic entertainers, the attempts at capturing it in drama form has been littered with lackluster characters and lukewarm storylines. There’s at least somewhat of a standard-bearer now as “Idol: The Coup” stirs together enough quality drama components to complement the musical background for an above-average production.

The primary narrative is based on the five member girl group Cotton Candy and their attempt to salvage a once promising, now wrecked attempt at success. It begins with them attempting to get their agency to get on board with a comeback attempt which only leads to tragic ends and a smoldering feud between a new agency CEO and the Cotton Candy members. Navigating this conflict with the agency whilst simultaneously bootstrapping themselves back in to the limelight makes up act two.

Je Na, fervently played by Ahn Hee Yeon, spends more time than an Australian cattle dog trying to keep her flock from wandering off. Hyun Ji, passionately portrayed by Sol Bin who previously was an idol trainee in “Backstreet Rookie”, has anger management issues that rival The Hulk. Elle, slyly brought to life by EXY, is more often measuring how likely the girls comeback will be and whether she’d be better off starting a solo attempt immediately. Stella, played by Han So Eun, and Chae Ah, by Green, spend almost the entire run as fourth and fifth wheels who way too belatedly get some individual storylines.

There’s also the successful boy band under the same agency and a bunch of management types and producers who are all male. Of course, no idol is without a fan club and, if it’s a drama, the fan club is all female. Ah, but let’s set aside gender momentarily.

As a production intended for viewing pleasure, “Idol: The Coup” does a respectable job through almost its entire run. Kwak Shi Yang, as the sometime nemesis/other times friendly new CEO Cha Jae Hyuk, has a delightful and complicated relationship with his talent and his aunt, in a sparkling guest spot by Yoon Bak In. CEO Cha is not only the most compelling character, but also has more of a transformation than Cotton Candy’s fortunes.

Ahn Hee Yeon and Sol Bin may not have futures as A list leading ladies, but they’re solid actors and have intriguing characters here. The rest of the Cotton Candy members are not on the same level, but they can sing, dance, cry and check the other boxes needed.

This only goes so far, unfortunately, before some flaws start to sink things.

As with any other show in this subgenre, at some point, idols have to perform. But it’s laughable for any song or choreography in a drama to compare to the real thing because, come on, the pros in the K pop industry are a worldwide phenomenon because they’re insanely talented and work nonstop on their craft.

There’s also a severe case of what could best be identified as Chronic Departure Crisis Syndrome which goes like this - Cotton Candy member decides because of [fill in the blank personal reason] that she’s heading for the hills followed by Je Na interchangeably confronting CEO Cha and lassoing the rogue member back to the group dorm ending with a group hug and a period of about ten seconds before the next cycle of CDCS flares back up.

A more permanent and untreatable condition is that the boy banders, Mars, are a necessary plot device requiring regular appearances by five of the most spiritless performers that could be found. Are they ugly? No. Can they deliver a single line of dialogue with a single instance of inflection? Also no. Would they be able to stand out in a supermarket aisle full of nothing else but rows of plain sandwich bread? Probably not.

The most serious issue is, however, that what should have been a show about female-powered success in the face of a hostile male patriarchal organization whiffs badly. As is uniform in idol dramas, the boy band’s fan club is nothing but a mindless, rage-fueled mob bent on obliterating anything that might breathe sideways at Mars. That’s at least got some real world connection to how things are in real life but it’s still not a great look.

What is most problematic is what turns things around for Cotton Candy. The five members have rehearsed, sung, choreographed, begged producers, recorded online videos, reached out to their fans, fought, kicked, scratched, clawed and crawled for episode after episode. Each time that things start to look positive, some new obstacle stands in their way. And then, suddenly everything changes. They start getting positive press and television interviews. The social media following exponentially grows. A signing event brings in a massive crowd. What triggers this overnight explosion of interest? The boy band’s leader, Seo Ji Han, has a press conference and says nice things about them. That’s why they break out. Cute boy flips the switch for the girls and that’s how they make it. That’s the formula for success: a successful male makes everything possible for the females who had flopped before he came to their rescue.

And when the success is imminent, as the final episode begins to roll, there’s the male CEO, the male boy band leader, two male producers, the male agency director and even a male reporter that all get screen time before the first glimpse of a female cast member at the 6:30 mark of the episode. That’s some serious cringe.

“Idol: The Coup”, despite a long list of missteps, has a solid group of characters and actors and the various misadventures that Je Na navigates with her crew create excitement more often than not. It’s a recommended show but be prepared for peaks and valleys.

Leia Mais

Like the title character at the beginning, it doesn't know what it should be

"I can't sing" says Doona when asked why she stopped performing but it's obvious that the issue is NOT that she can't sing. It's that she doesn't know WHY she is singing. And that after the years of training and performing, she's lost any meaning to what had once been her dream.

That much is clear.

And equally clear is that a kpop idol interacting with Yang Se Jong's Won Joon is like a plunge in to an ice bath. He's such an opposite of her. He's beyond his years in maturity. He doesn't smoke. He's a rule follower. His emotions are as grounded as a concrete block building foundation. C'mon, he's a civil engineer. As a romance? Legitimately, there are some terrific, compelling scenes between Won Joon and Doona. But this is not a show where any rational viewer is expecting a fairy tale - they get together, leave the world behind and live happily ever after. Immediately upon solidifying their relationship, the clock begins audibly ticking before their troubles as a couple will consume them. Regardless of whether or not the lovebirds find a way to be together, the main issue that is dramatized is whether Doona falls for Won Joon because she needs someone and he's the one that happens to be there or is he legitimately her soulmate? But somewhat ignored is why has Won Joon fallen for Doona as a person? Clearly he's a straight male and she's stunning and seems interested in him and that should obviously be enough for a brief infatuation. It's not enough, however, to explain how he overlooks all the negatives (and there are many) in her and she becomes the only woman for him. So the romance is intermittently great but, in totality, is more just going where it was pretty expected it was headed from before the first frame hit the screen.

Moreover, the secondary storylines have promise. Park Se Wan and Kim Do Wan are a fantastic pair. Won Joon's got a potentially colorful hometown connections subplot. Ha Young's Jin Joo has a troubled family life. But the shorter episode run times and 9 episode duration don't give these diversions ample space to really fulfill what could have been. Park Se Wan, in particular, is wild and colorful but shows up halfway just as things in the main plot are gaining serious traction. Even just a single additional episode could have allowed more screen time to cultivate what were some potentially entertaining developments.

Where "Doona" really hits (and, in a way, misses) is that Doona herself is this fascinating, complex, damaged and brilliant character in the midst of discovering herself and her passion for music. And, for as much as no other man but Won Joon can make her happy, the reality is that not even he can come between her and who she is as an artist and a singer. It's her journey from being a woman in crisis to finding what within her gives her a purpose and meaning that captivates. How it misses is that it is clumsily obfuscated by the demands of the industry that she return to settle her contractual obligations and the effect that her return to singing has on Won Joon. These are certainly points worth noting in her growth, but they overwhelm what could have been a better exploration of her personal awakening, finding meaning in songwriting, realizing what she loved about performing and that a life without music, for her, would be a life without meaning. Instead, her internal development is captured in only brief moments. It's a pity.

Recommended but with forewarning that "Doona" isn't what it could be.

Leia Mais