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Quick Reviews

Aug7

Haven’t finished anything to review lately, so just have some quick partial reviews:

The Scapegoat by Daphne Du Maurier: Am about halfway through the book and it’s pretty much the same as the movie, except it takes place in France instead of England. Enjoying Du Maurier’s writing as usual, but I think the main character comes across as a lot more charming in the movie. The other characters seem all the same. The film makers did a good job at adapting the story. I already know what’s going to happen, but am super curious about how the endings are different.

Peanut Butter Sandwich: This Japanese romantic comedy just wasn’t my cup of tea. Made it to episode 4 and just realized I was very bored. The story was neither funny nor romantic, though I was impressed at the government rookie being able to fit into so many service jobs without a hiccup. She’s got skills. The middle-aged woman obsessed with PB sandwiches was creepy and the guy agent looked dazed half the time. As for the other characters and their storylines–meh. Also, who wants the government investigating our love lives? None of their business.

Lookout: This Korean drama is a second watch for me. With hopping music, dynamic characters, and plenty of intrigue, I think I’m enjoying it even more this time around. The show stars Lee Si Young (Boys of Flowers) and Kim Young Kwang (Pinocchio), both of whom I think were born for these roles. Kim is especially on the money and enjoying acting his character and his character acting. The episodes are only half hour ones, so the plot and action moves relatively quickly.

Your Name: Also a second watch. Some of the best animation out there. Although I didn’t care for the Garden of Words, Makoto Shinkai hit this one out of the park. Definitely best to watch on a big screen if you can. It’s difficult to imagine an American cartoon or even CGI production that can touch what Japan can do with anime. Can’t wait to watch Weathering with You again later this fall.

Vagabond: Too Epic?

Jul16

Sorry about the downer of a post last week. This time of having to go along with so, so many lies in politics, health, news, life, well, it’s taking it’s toll on all of us. Through all the craziness I do know that God is in control and that He’ll work out his purposes no matter the circumstances.

Some spoilers ahead.

It’s been quite awhile since I’ve watched Netflix, but couldn’t resist watching Vagabond starring Lee Seung Gi (A Korean Odyssey/You’re All Surrounded) and Bae Suzy (Gu Family Book). Haven’t seen Suzy in much, because she just hasn’t acted in that much yet, but Seung Gi is definitely one of my favorite Korean actors, a good everyman with expressive eyes. He’s no Seo In Guk, but he’s a really good, solid actor.

Vagabond came out in 2019, and, unusually, this is a Korean drama built to have a second season. It ends, as is customary, on a bit of a cliffhanger. It begins with the same scene, but I’ll get into that in a second. Since K-dramas often end oddly or more often not as good as they began, I was skeptical that it truly was a show meant for a second season, but the last episode confirmed that it must be.

This show is a great, exciting watch with few missteps. The biggest flaw I came across was that we really don’t get that much screen time with the fantastic leads. Many, many scenes are spent with the bad guys, some of whom are charismatic enough to warrant it, but it seemed a bit much at times. The story is something pulled from the headlines, a plane goes down while flying to Morocco and everyone dies. Since it’s a Korean flight, many of the passengers are from Korea, and soon the surviving families of the deceased are shuttled to Morocco to get explanations and have memorial ceremonies. Lee Seung Gi plays Cha Dal Geon, a stunt man and Judo teacher who’s just never really made to the big time. He did take in his little nephew after his sister and the kid’s mom bailed and left him in a orphanage. There were many great scenes with uncle and nephew that really pulled the heartstrings. While in Morocco, Cha finds that at least one person who was on the plane with his nephew is not in fact dead. And the plot thickens.

Bae Suzy’s character, Go Hae Ri, works for the Korean NIS, something like the USA’s CIA, and she’s in Morocco to complete some missions. More of an analyst, she’s nevertheless quick to step up into roles that require more action and split second decisions. It’s great to see her character grow and Cha’s regard to grow for her as a result. The setting of Morocco was awesome and often I forgot I wasn’t watching a Hollywood made show. Multiple languages are used a lot in the story, and there’s something about it that just seems like a feature film the US would have made in the 1990s, which is a compliment. I miss that US.

Suffice to say, Cha and Go run around both Morocco and Korea trying to find some answers to just what happened on that airplane. They bump up against corruption with the NIS and also vying airplane corporations Dynamic and John Michael or Mark. The actual meaning of the title Vagabond, doesn’t pop up until far into the story when we find out that NIS lead Gang Joo Cheol (Lee Ki Young, Wok of Love) has some tricks up his sleeve.

Vagabond starts and ends very oddly for a company like Netflix that’s very proud of being diversity inclusive. The opening and ending scenes have a man we don’t know saying very racist things to Cha’s character. Wisely, Cha ignores him, until he finds he can’t anymore. By the end of the season, it’s apparent this racist man is some kind of Russian mercenary, except the actor is probably not Russian, and is a horrible actor to boot. It’s just odd that Netflix would have overlooked this in choosing Vagabond to show, but my Q-anon senses say that perhaps it had everything to do with this man being supposedly Russian, a racist, and with him (spoilers) getting shot in the end. Add that to Cha more than once putting the OK sign over one eye. Q-anon people will know what I mean–Spidey senses going off. Anyway, the beginning had me laughing because it was so ridiculous, and I almost switched it off.

Aside from that, the screen time thing, and some of the music, Vagabond was a treat to watch, with lots of action and intrigue. The writers did a great job having the main characters really grieve the dead. It wasn’t just a one-time sobbing at a funeral, they really grieved.

Some of the standout acting I have to tip my hat to, and in no particular order: Li Ki Young was great as NIS leader Gang Joo Cheol. Actually both he and Jeong Man Sik (King 2 Hearts), who plays another NIS head Min Jae Sik, did excellent jobs. Really didn’t know which side either was on for awhile. Edward Park of Dynamic and Jessica Lee of John Michael (or maybe it was John Mark?) were two very charismatic corporate honchos and played by great looking actors who have almost hypnotizing screen presences: Lee Kyoung Young (D-Day) and Moon Jeong Hee (When the Weather Is Fine). Both characters seemed very American in their ruthlessness, which I think was purposeful. As plotting Blue House official Yun Han Gi, Kim Min Jong gave a riveting performance, and I’m hoping to see some of the other shows he’s been in. The last actor I want to mention is Jang Hyuk Jin (Suspicious Partner), who I’ve seen enough to recognize, but has never stood out to me before. His pilot/junkie Kim Woo Gi was both pathetic and funny, and I really started to look forward to his scenes.

All in all, a great show and a great watch. Vagabond does highlight corruption, which is just everywhere these days, but it also has people doing something about it, which is satisfying, even if it’s only in a fictional world. I’m hoping, I’m really hoping, that Cha’s nephew is not actually dead, that in season two they somehow find that the people from the plane are being held captive somewhere. It’s just wishful thinking, but happy endings are so rare even in our fictional stories these days. I long for them, I truly do.

With so many plot lines, languages, settings, and a huge cast, Vagabond is almost too epic, if that’s even possible.

When the Weather Is Nice: K-drama review

Jun11

As much as I love Viki, I prefer the titles listed on Asianwiki. For one, they are shorter, and two, the longer titles are awkward. Not sure if it is a more literal translation of the title or what. At any rate, Viki calls this one I’ll Come to You When the Weather is Nice, but I like the shortness of When the Weather Is Nice. This title makes me think of the Japanese anime film Weathering with You. Can’t wait to see that one again once it’s on video. Oh, it’s a rambling day. Sorry folks, I have summer brain!

That I loved this drama is an understatement. The latter episodes I started watching in fifteen minute chunks because I just didn’t want the story to end. Now, that’s some good writing, and not surprising as it’s apparently based on a book. Now I want to read the book, too.

When the Weather is Nice stars Park Min Young of City Hunter fame and numerous romances like What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? She’s a good go-to actor for a great romance as she always has good chemistry with her costars and knows how to really smile with her eyes. Here, she plays cellist Mok Hye Won, who’s had a difficult time in life relating to other people, and most recently, the expectations of the director of the music school in which she teaches. As she needs a break, Hye Won goes to her family’s small village of Bukhyeon to hang out with her aunt.

The story also stars Seo Kang Joon from Cheese in the Trap and Are You Human? His character, Lim Eun Seob, also has grown up and currently lives in the village. He owns a remote bookstore called the Goodnight Bookstore and hosts a monthly (?) book club that is a great part of the story. He’s also been madly in love with Hye Won since high school and almost can’t believe she’s come back to the village, giving him one last chance with her. Like Park, Seo isn’t just a pretty face, he can act and really act well. They both got so into their characters, that I forgot they were actors at all.

When the Weather is Nice encapsulates so much: small town life, heartache, falling in love, sin, guilt, family relations, abandonment, ambition, and on and on. It’s almost too much to take in at times, though the drama itself is slower paced, like small town life, and it’s only by the end we the viewers realized just how much was packed in to the plot and themes. As a book lover, I high enjoyed the focus on stories and books, and, oh, what a book club! This is the book club everyone imagines when they think of a book club – a group of people who love stories and is their own little family. It’s charming and heartwarming.

The romance is sweet and not entirely certain until the end, much like life. Eun Seon is one of those quiet men often overlooked in high school, and Hye Won doesn’t really remember him at first. By the end, she’s probably kicking herself thinking about how much time she missed out on with him. Sometime quiet steadfastness and reliability can win women over in ways that more talkative men couldn’t hope to reach. Eun Seob will likely never run after her and violently protest his love for her, but he flirts in his own way and warms her heart simply by walking her home in the dark, and caring for her in other ways, like making sure she’s warm enough and getting her some winter boots. Men, women are easy, we really are. Just care for us, that’s all we really need, and it’s what Hye Won chooses in the end.

The latter half of the drama deals mostly with Hye Won’s family backstory–much tragedy and heartbreak and difficult to watch at times. It’s sad that people who are supposed to love their family can treat them with coldness and/or abuse, but even more amazing is that the family members that suffer still love those people. Just an amazing gift from God that we can still love, even then. Hye Won’s aunt and mother are so larger than life compared to the rest of the village, acting much like movie stars hiding out. I wasn’t sure I’d get into their part of the story, but again, the writing is just spellbinding.

Set during a long, long winter, When the Weather Is Nice sucked me in, both due to the bookstore and focus on writing and stories, but also due to the weather. I’m a Minnesota girl and let me tell you, our winters can be looooong. A week seems like a month, a month seems like a year, so it wasn’t surprising that by the end of the drama it seemed that a much longer time had passed. They also incorporated all sorts of winter weather and things like ice skating rinks and pipes freezing, and it all came together really well.

Some stand out minor characters: Lee Jang Woo played by Lee Jae Wook. Lee is a classmate of the leads and works for the city. He organizes a reunion for the village that is magical. Lee is also quiet and shy, though he also chatters on nervously. He, too, gets a chance to have the girl that got away, and it’s such a treat to see him get up the courage to win her. She also patiently gives him time to do this. His character was one of truly caring for those around him and enjoying a simple life. He is super smart and could have worked at a big company in Seoul, but chose to stay in Hyecheon City near the village.

Second standout character was Lim Whi (or Hui), played by a bubbling and vivacious Kim Hwan Hee. Whi is the typical annoying teenage girl, constantly chasing after boys who don’t want her. But I have to say, she does it with style, and there’s something about her persistence that’s appealing, even to those boys. She is the sister of Eun Seob, and almost his complete opposite, loud and brash, where he is quiet and still. Still, there’s a great sibling bond between them and it’s especially funny when Eun Seob is suspicious of the boys she likes, even though they don’t like her. Eun Seob probably finds Whi annoying at times, but he clearly loves her, just as he does the rest of his family, and it’s an interesting dynamic, him being a quiet man, for he can never really say, I love you, but manages to convey it in everything he does. Warm fuzzies galore.

Someday I’d really like to watch this drama again and go through it episode by episode, commenting and critiquing. It’s one of those stories that always stays with you, and really makes me want to learn to read Korean so I can read the book. Someday, someday, someday. I give it ten stars, though it’s probably not that perfect, but it was such a joy to watch, especially after reading and watching stories far more cynical about life and humanity.

Are You Human?: Give Shin His Life Back

May28

The good news is, I am currently watching a drama that I love with a million hearts. The bad news is that Are you Human? (Viki title is Are You Human Too?) starring Seo Kang Joon (The Cheese in the Trap) and Gong Seung Yeon (Six Flying Dragons) is not that drama. A very watchable drama with decent acting, Are You Human? could have reached for profound, but settled for easy. It is also one of the few shows that had me constantly yelling at the screen: He is a robot! A robot!

Yes, my friends, this is a robot story involving a theme that has been overdone in sci-fi at this point: defining humanity. Exploring the question what does is mean to be human through a robot’s eyes can be effective, but in this show it was used to promote the idea that it’s ok to think of robots and human and even to replace actual humans with them. Not sure if this was the intended message by the writer, but nevertheless, it made me sick to my stomach.

The story is about a young man named Nam Shin, and in this review I’ll mainly call him Shin, who of course is the grandson of a rich company CEO. The grandpa is…how can I say psychotic nicely? I can’t. Anyway, grandpa basically holds kid Shin hostage, saying if he goes to his grieving mother (dad just committed suicide), grandpa will harm mom. Thus mother and son grow up apart. But this is not your average mom. Oh Ra Ra is a super smart robotic scientist who flees to the Czech Republic and there makes a robot to look exactly like her son. She finds out later that her project is funded by (spoilers) grandpa. Robot Shin III is programmed to be a kind, loving, young gentlemen, who in disaster mode will leap into action to save whatever human lives are at stake. Not a bad thing, but at the beginning, it’s unclear just what mom’s motive is in this. Her son is still alive, and I would have actually found it less weird for him to be dead and in her grief she finds comfort in a lookalike machine.

The real Shin grows up and appears to be a typically spoiled rich boy, but he does long for his mother and makes a plan to escape grandpa’s watch and go to Czecho to see her. This involves the manipulation of a bodyguard, Kang So Bong, who used to be a pro fighter, but had to retire due to injury. She’s a somewhat feisty character who becomes less so over time. Robot Shin runs across real Shin in the town of Karlovy Vary, and I kind of wish the story would have stayed in Czecho, because it’s a beautiful fairy tale country and I miss living in it. The bad guy, played stereotypically by Yu Oh Seong (Faith) wants to take over the company and has a hitman take out Shin. Mom and her scientist buddy arrive just in time to witness the accident and mom instinctively knows it is her real son that has been run over. Turns out Shin isn’t dead, but he’s in a coma and so mom and Shin’s watcher for grandpa Ji Young Hoon (Lee Joon Hyuk from City Hunter) come up with the obvious plan to have robot Shin pretend to be human Shin.

The story didn’t quite play out as I imagined it would, but instead of surprising me, it continually disappointed me. The acting was very good, Seo Kang Joon has a bright future ahead of him and played both Shin’s well. He also has great screen presence, something one just has or doesn’t have, and will continue to be a great lead because of that. Gong Seung Yoon started out strong, as did her girl bodyguard character, but the writing basically killed her character by the end. She would have benefited from a ton more screen time with human Shin, which would have been a romance worth watching. Everyone else did a decent job, but nothing really of note.

Let’s get into the ranting part. So human Shin is a jerk, a spoiled jerk, but he loves his mom, has been royally abused by his grandpa, and wakes up partway through the series to find that he has literally been replaced by a lifelike robot built by his mother. And she won’t destroy it for his sake. She’s far too attached. Understandably, Shin is upset, very upset and wants the robot gone and his life back. He does pretty despicable things to try to make this happen, and the thing is, most of the time I was cheering him on! His fellow humans were all acting psycho, continually telling him that the robot was a better human than he was, and having affection for a machine that just…shouldn’t be there. I like my cell phone and my vacuum cleaner, but I’m not about to fall in love with them. Come to find out that crazy grandpa has the plan to actually fully replace his grandson by the robot and having the robot run the company.

This is a dark side of humanity, that we think we can create something better than a human and replace humanity with it. But it’s faulty, sinful human beings doing the making and programming, and it’s simply wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, to do this. Robots are a machine, a tool, and while they can certainly be humanlike, we walk a dangerous tightrope trying to make them as much like humans as possible. And on this show, what does that look like? Sadly, it reduces humanity to one thing: emotion. There’s a little nod to kindness, etc., being a part of humanity, but the focus is on emotion. Robot Shin is only still a robot because he doesn’t have emotions. He’s programmed to smile or give someone a hug when they need it, but that’s about it. Humans are so much more than their emotions, and why the writers didn’t choose to plumb the depths by either doing outright fantasy and having robot Shin somehow earn a fairy blessing of humanity, or by giving human Shin a beautiful redemptive love story, I don’t know. Either choice would have been so much better than what they went with. Yes, robot Shin (spoilers) does magically shed tears at the end, but this is never explained, and other than the humans continually telling him he seems human to them, no reason is given other than the fact that he sacrificed himself to save a human. But that’s no great feat, because he’s a robot programmed to do just that.

Let’s talk about the love story. Gong’s first interaction is with human Shin, who actually hit her to carry out his little escape plan. She then has a chance to vent her anger, but it ends up being on the robot Shin. It takes a little while for her find that this Shin is a robot, but bizarrely, she continues down the path of a relationship with the robot. Yes, he’s handsome, he’s kind and gentle, and so on, but he’s programmed to be that way. At times she treats him like a child, and other times like a pet. If a real, grown woman tells you she wants this kind of romance, run. Run away fast. Real woman do not want robots or pets, they want men, real men that don’t do whatever they say, and who have flaws and faults that they sometimes courageously overcome. Real women want a man they can argue with, share their lives and dreams with, and…ahem…have sex with. Now the show doesn’t go there, but they could probably program robot Shin to do the deed, but he’s not more much more than a blowup doll. Is that really what Gong should be aspiring to, a pretend relationship with a blowup doll? They did give him tears at the end, they did, but even at the end, when she first encounters human Shin, there’s a spark there that is not there when she and the robot kiss. The ending turned my stomach. Human Shin happily looking on as a woman kisses and makes promises to a machine that looks just like him. It was rather gross and not romantic in the slightest.

Give human Shin his life back. Rewrite this atrocity and give him a redemption and love story that values humanity, not programmed robots. There was another character that did love human Shin and the writers did nothing with her, except finally send her away to America where hopefully she found someone to appreciate her persistence, sweetness, loyalty, and bravery.

Are You Human? is watchable, far more than some other dramas, but the message it conveys is just so icky to me that I have trouble recommending it because of that. Even emotionally, there wasn’t really a good cathartic moment. Anger, maybe, Shin’s anger at being replaced, and then more anger because he’s met not with understanding, but with the robot is a better human that you are. I mean, what the actual blank? As for robot Shin, he’s got a bland personality, but of course he does. Humans can’t program a personality the way God creates one. The idea that we can is laughable. Also really not sure what to make of the talk in the show of a whole city with humans and these humanlike robots…sounds nightmarish to me. Sometimes I really hate science and think that at its heart it is anti-God and anti-human.

Jack Taylor: The Drunken Detective

Mar20

Having watched the first six episodes of the Jack Taylor series that started in 2010, I’m sorry I didn’t watch it earlier and also surprised that I like it. First off, having only seen Iain Glen in the miniseries Wives and Daughters where he plays a rather unlikeable character, I was surprised how likable I found him as Jack Taylor. Second of all, were he a real person, Jack Taylor, too, would be surprised that anyone likes him, so constant is his drinking, smoking, acerbic attitude, and downright contrariness. He gets in fights and often beat up. His only possessions that he owns are books, and he is well read and smart, but stupidly gives into baser impulses and vices. He is plagued by guilt, both deserved and undeserved. The first episode of the show makes Galway, Ireland, appear way more dangerous and seedy than it hopefully actually is.

Men watching the show might be a bit baffled that Jack has any love interests at all, for he is exactly what many women profess they don’t want at all in a man. However, being a woman, I get it. There’s a certain manly quality to all of Jack’s actions. He’s his own man, even if that means he’s not really nice more than half the time. He may not be there to help you heal from your wounds, but he’s there to save your life. In a show such as this, where one can be attacked at any time, someone who’s willing to protect women and children to the death is powerfully attractive, no matter how unhygienic they might be. Aside from the recurring character Kate Noonan (Nora-Jane Noone), none of the other women want a relationship with him. Why Kate does is mostly due to shared interests and simple chemistry. Sometimes it really just does come down to chemistry, and despite the characters’ age differences, they have it in spades.

Jack Taylor isn’t really a series of mysteries so much as it is following the private detective around in his crazy life. The first episode leaves one considering how this person functions at all, let alone solves crimes. As Jack becomes more sober in episodes two and three, the mysteries become a bit clearer, if rather unlikely. Based on actual events, The Magdalen Martyrs is a standout episode and the most chilling tale out of all of them. The Dramatist reminded me of something from Criminal Minds, and while predictable, was still a good watch. After that, Jack goes back to drinking, but appears to be keeping everything on even keel somehow.

The three main leads in the series are great, more than one realizes while watching, and really only becomes clear upon trying to watch episode seven in which they totally changed the show, getting rid of Taylor’s young sidekick, Cody Farraher (Killian Scott), and replaced the actress for Kate Noonan. After what Cody has been through, it’s not so surprising that he’d move away from Ireland for a better life, but to continue the show without Noone playing Jack’s longterm love interest was a mistake, compounded by the fact that the writers don’t give the audience time to adjust to the new actress, nor do they give the actors room to build some sense of chemistry at all. I did not try any of the remaining episodes, for whatever magic the show had was gone with the changes. Sometimes actors have such good onscreen chemistry with their colleagues that it’s impossible to replace.

Although set in Ireland, the show doesn’t give one much sense of the country, or really of Galway. But it is limited in following Jack, who mostly stays in the seedy, familiar places to him. Even episode six, Shot Down, only gives us a very limited view of the Traveler or Tinker community in Ireland. But there’s also the neighborhood pub Jack hangs out in, the characters who are also musicians, and the drama that Jack exudes, that all connect to a different view of Ireland, a place where people get together in music and story instead of going at each other’s throats all the time.

A key element in the show is Jack’s old regulation Guards coat (the Guards are Ireland’s police force), a dark blue wool pea coat, that looks pretty good considering it’s been in the gutter a time or two. The coat is an instant icon–Jack doesn’t look himself in any other coat–and is the reason I would like to try reading the book series the show is based on. I will be really disappointed if the coat isn’t in the book series, so hope it’s not something the show just added on its own.

The most likable thing about the whole series is simply Iain Glen’s great performance. I wasn’t looking to be impressed, so maybe that’s why it was easy for him to impress me, but I’d never really thought of Glen as ever being a leading man, and he really shines in the role. Some people look better with a bit of age on them, and Glen does. Not sure his accent is truly Irish in this, though the gravely voice is appropriate for the character. Glen also does a great job of connecting with the audience. He plays Jack as always one step away from becoming a saint, and portrays the grizzly alcoholic with his softie, emotional insides often exposed. It’s easy to see why Kate and Cody not only stay friends with him, but explains why they rarely, if ever, chastise him for his lifestyle. They know without question that Jack Taylor would die to save them. There have been many drunken detectives with damaged pasts, but Jack Taylor is different. Maybe it’s the coat, maybe it’s just how much he gets beat up and somehow manages to keep going. I think, though, it’s just that both Glen and the writers manage to portray him as simultaneously irritating as a person and genuine in his affection for others.

It helps that there are only a few episodes, and not a litany of crimes we follow Taylor investigating. In fact, the only episode in which the series becomes humdrum crime of the week type of thing is with episode seven, in which the show was entirely revamped. The series also was inconsistent in Glen’s first person narration. It would often pop in out of nowhere. This a show in which to enjoy mostly the main character, and a few of the others, the setting, and perhaps some elements of the mysteries and crimes, but not a show to be watched purely for the mysteries, which tend to disappoint. Still, it would be fun to see the show continue, albeit with the three original lead actors back in place. Although a character piece, Jack isn’t Jack without Kate, and is better with Cody on the scene.

Doc Martin: Tactless and smart–lovable

Mar5

The Oxford American dictionary defines tactless as “having or showing a lack of adroitness and sensitivity in dealing with others or with difficult issues.” We’ve all been tactless at one time or another, but as we grow and change, most of us become adept at delivering the truth of what we think in soft ways, especially to those we care about. Some, often very brilliant, smart people never learn tact. As awful as their manner is, there can be something refreshing about someone who gives one bad news or a brutal opinion point blank with no couching or frills attached.

The British show, Doc Martin (2004–?) follows one such brilliant doctor as he runs into one frustration after giving up a great career in the city and moving to a small seaside town. Dr. Martin Ellingham as played by Martin Clunes is a bit of a bulldog in a china shop. He cares more about having things the way he wants them and getting things done than worrying about hurt feelings or social norms. Despite initial appearances, the town of Port Wenn is a perfect match for him–the people there don’t really care much about his feelings, either. They, too, are a tactless lot, though a bit subtler, and Doc Martin’s brashness simply encourages them to be more so, for he is a person on which they can dump their true feelings without worry that he’ll be unrecoverably wounded. Truly, he is a gift to them, and despite the anger that often ensues, there’s something healthy about a group of people who can and do discuss things openly. It’s almost American, except we do tend to paint a veneer of “nice” and “happy” on our honesty.

So far I’ve only watched Season 1, but find both Port Wenn and Doc Martin (everyone refuses to call him Dr. Ellingham) charming in their irritating tactlessness and little quirks. The writing and stories are great, as they somehow manage to touch the viewer’s hearts as well, often hitting more emotional notes than more overly sentimental shows do. There’s something real life about the way the characters go about their business, from the infuriating receptionist, Elaine (Lucy Punch), who wouldn’t know the meaning of professionalism if it knocked her over in the street, to father and son plumber duo, Ben and Al Large (Ian McNeice and Joe Absolom), the first who can’t stop talking and the second who overindulges his father and finds his way in life in jerks and starts. Martin’s Aunt Joan (Stephanie Cole) is a treat, an older independent woman who treats her nephew with a matter-of-fact sort of love and has no problem calling him out when necessary. Martin’s possible love interest, schoolteacher Louisa Glasson (Caroline Catz) while initially appalled by his lack of tact, is tuned into his alpha brashness, and it’s amusing how her obvious fluster around him barely phases Martin. For all his tact, Martin doesn’t quite manage to ask her out, but then he’s got so much on his mind.

Doc Martin is both picturesque and strange–one never knows where each episode is going to go. Its humor is more relatable to me than other British shows, and, again, there’s maybe something similar to American culture in it, though I can’t say exactly what. Initially, I was hoping this was a doc who solves murder mysteries, but the mysteries are more those of the human heart and behaviors and how medical situations bring them to light. As the town is bunched up by the sea it has a contained world feel, and the Britain of London or Jane Austen, or Sherlock seems far, far away. It’s a lovable show with lovable characters who at first seem anything but, but it’s the constant, situational humor that draws one in, that and Clunes’ performance, for he manages to just make Doc Martin just awkward enough in the right ways, a man who cares enough about people’s health to tell them the truth. Martin has a softer side, and an interesting fear of blood for a doctor. As Port Wenn has just as much trouble with tact as he does, it’s easy for viewers to relate to his frustration. He’s less of a jerk than say HOUSE (Hugh Laurie) or Sherlock (Benedict Cumberbatch) are, but just as smart.

Looking forward to continuing the series and enjoying watching a British show that isn’t a murder mystery for once, though I do love their murder mysteries. Up next week: Library Wars manga series–yes, Japan is still following me!

Annihilation/Silver Spoon/The Hour

Feb23

Here’s some quick reviews for this week:

Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer. This book was kindly loaned to me by my brother-in-law. Watched the movie with Natalie Portman and it was easily one of the most gross and disturbing movies I have ever seen – and I have seen an embarrassing amount of movies. Still, something about the story intrigued me and I wanted to try the book.

The story follows a group of women scientists of different types, all of whom remain nameless, as they make up an 11th? 12th? (I can’t remember, and it doesn’t really matter) expedition into an unknown alien area that resembles Florida. From the start, it’s clear that they have been told nothing that would actually help them figure out what’s going on in this strange environment, and it’s never clear why. Because the main character is a biologist, a lot of focus is put on the natural world, and it’s refreshing to follow a sci-fi story that not a fantasy set in space, or a drama with science-y surroundings, or, really, that’s it’s just not set in space. Annihilation is a book I would call true science fiction, and had me thinking of Day of the Triffids for some reason, another story I would put clearly in science fiction.

Thankfully, the book is much less gruesome than the movie, though just as unsettling as we follow the biologist whilst she morphs into something other than human. An alien? I have no idea, but it is the first book in a trilogy called The Southern Reach, so maybe the other two books explain more about what’s going on. Much like the biologist grew up studying tide pools, her story, too, is something of a tide pool study. The reader is reading a narrative of her observing herself in this new environment. Unfortunately, observation does not equal explanation or lead to the truth of what is happening in this land beyond a border that may or may not exist. Some parts seem it may be simply a journey of her mind, others indicate an alien takeover slowly creeping over the world. That her observations give little answers to, well, anything, was not lost on me. Can this be a criticism of “science” as a whole? The answers that we’ve come up with in observing our world, are they something scientists simply make up? Are our stories of what’s going on on our planet actually true? If we think about it, we can probably remember times when we saw something–a frown, or an argument, or what have you, assumed what was going on, and later, in talking with the people or simply gaining more information, we found that the conclusions we jumped to were incorrect. Observation on its own, was simply not enough. Food for thought.

Silver Spoon by Hiromu Arakawa. I am not obsessed with Japan or Japanese culture—really! I just have, and have always had, friends who are, mostly Millennials. Sometimes I ask myself: Why are so many Millennials obsessed with Japanese stuff? Anime, Manga, the food, the everything? The planners? Ok, don’t get me started on more planning stuff! And then I remember, oh, yeah, there’s plenty of Gen X-ers obsessed with Japan, too. The blame surely falls on Pokemon, somehow, and I have no doubt that a large portion of Generation Z, too, will have the love of all things Japanese. Me, I’m more fond of China, mostly because I lived there, and I like S. Korean drams, but I’m not sure I could breathe in their culture. Same with Japan. But I’ve never been to either country, so it’s really hard to say for sure. Anyway, the point is, Japan is following me, I am not following it.

This was my first time really trying to read a Manga book, or Japanese comic book. I have seen several of the more popular Anime movies in the past decade, so am a bit familiar with how Japanese storytellers tell their stories. And it’s still always so unexpected. At first, I was really dizzy and cross-eyed from trying to read book one of Silver Spoon. Being left-handed, you’d think reading a book from R to L instead of L to R would be easy. Nope. And after having finished the book, it still feels awkward, but I’m really glad I pushed on and read the whole thing.

Silver Spoon is hilarious! It’s about a boy named Yuugo Hachiken who decides to go to an Agricultural high school, thinking it will be easy. Boy, is he ever wrong. As a mostly city person myself, I found I shared some of his freakouts about this strange world of land and farm. In thinking that technology has solved everything, we city people so often forget just how hard and long that the people who run farms and grow the food actually work. People who don’t read Manga, or graphic novels, or even comics often forget that they aren’t all about super heroes and they are not all for kids. Like novels, the genre does offer quite a variety if you know where to look, and if you have a friend who’s obsessed with Japan, they will know just where to direct you. [As an aside, the Japanese anime Weathering with You is awesome. I haven’t written a review of it because I want to see it again before doing so, but have no idea when that will be.]

The Hour. Although I really love the actors in this BBC drama, especially Ben Whishaw (Perfume: The Story of a Murder), and Romola Garai (best Emma ever!), I just couldn’t get into this series. One episode away from finishing season one, or series one, I found I was bored to tears. The plot wasn’t really moving, and the characters had flatlined. Part of it, is the increasing problem with most stories, whether books or movies put out nowadays: Censorship. Not the censorship of old keeping smut off the screen or foul language at bay, no, this new forced “wokeness” that everyone has to conform to actually involves putting smut and bad language on because the stories need to be “real” or something. Stories are never just stories anymore. Characters and storylines must wear their diversity and sex views on their sleeves. These days, one could almost be forgiven in thinking that the only oppressive societies out there must be “right wing,” for that’s so often all the current censorship allows. And The Hour wasn’t even that egregious with the political correctness stuff, either.

The show’s focus was entirely off, spending way too much time on a mundane storyline of infidelity. Ben Whishaw’s rather smart but gamma character does chase after an interesting murder mystery, but it’s so often not at all connected to the producing of this show, The Hour, which is what the series is supposed to be about. It’s also laughable to see how these characters pretend they are standing up to their government telling them what to produce. That is a grand lie that journalists have been telling for decades. I can forgive the writers a little in this one, because it was made in 2011-2012, long before the idea of “fake news” became a thing. Nowadays, it’s hilarious to suggest that any journalist working for any major news organization is doing any free thinking. And they never mean truly free thinking: these supposed wild cards on TV or in movies only spout the same views, whatever current version of political correctness gets one the most virtual signal points. Bo-oring! It was amusing to see the very easily led Bel Rowley (Garai), who clearly is at sea without her smart friend Freddie (Whishaw), be appalled, so, so appalled that she was hired as producer because the big bosses think women are “easily led.” Actually, that part was pretty good. I think the writers were letting some truth into their series, there. Maybe they just weren’t woke enough at the time. Or maybe they were, and now they’re broke? Ha, stupid joke. Maybe The Hour got better in series two, but I doubt it.

Mother: A Definition (Review of the Korean drama)

Aug29

Most great stories are based around simple concepts or trying to answer what one would think are simple questions. The Korean drama Mother, a remake of a Japanese show of the same title, attempts to define a mother. Who is a mother? On a surface level, it’s an easily answered question: It’s the woman who gave birth to you, whose egg was fertilized with your father’s sperm to create, well, you.

Mother probes a bit further, insinuating that a true mother is a woman who acts like a mother, biology aside. To go on this journey, the writers stay firmly within the world of women. There are few questions of fathers here, and their absence silently and continually accuses them.

Starring the everywoman Lee Bo Young (God’s Gift: 14 Days), Ko Sung Hui (While You Were Sleeping) as the biological mother, and introducing a very talented Heo Yeol as a horribly abused child Hye Na, Mother is an emotional roller coaster ride, almost to the point of overkill, that nevertheless offers up very real moral dilemmas in the process. Unquestionably Heo carries the show, as often children do in their first projects, but she is given a definite run for her money as we get to know the mothers who started the chain of events leading to the main story, especially aging actress Young Sin (played by the indomitable Lee Hye Young (Boys Over Flowers) and a mother of oh, so many regrets, played by veteran actress Nam Gi Ae. This is one of the few scripts really allows older actresses to test their mettle. The men quietly supporting in the background are unsung hero types, not romantic leads, and the men not supporting, again, are most “visible” in their absence. Their crimes are alluded to or told to us secondhand, but the message of the show is never that the women can or should excuse away their own behavior due to them.

(Spoilers) After a low-key beginning, Mother kicks into high thriller gear once the abuse of Hye Na becomes known to her teacher, Soo Jin (Lee Bo Young) and the teacher becomes frustrated that the social system has nothing in place to immediately protect this little girl. Soo Jin kidnaps Hye Na with the child’s full consent and most of the sixteen episodes focus on the pair’s continual elusion of the authorities who assume that her mother Ja Young (Ko) is truly heartbroken and wants her back. The plot thickens as we and Hye Na begin to learn more about her abductor and the essential back history that has led to this decision.

Here, the story really begins to plumb the depths of the definition of “mother.” We are introduced to several biological mothers all of whom in some way have been abandoned by their men and who either don’t love or don’t seem to love their child or children. This male abandonment is no excuse, as stated before, and it is Young Sin (Lee Hye Young) a self-declared mother who continually speaks to what a mother should be to her children, no matter the circumstances. Young Sin presents motherhood as a daunting responsibility to her daughter Soo Jin, while giving her courage and cheering her on. Protecting, loving, and nurturing, are all spouted as must-haves for any women aspiring to be a mother.

What struck me as being a little hollow in the story, was the fact that most of the mothers in the show were having essentially to be both mother and father. Aside from the couple of supporting men who are vaguely fatherlike at best, these mothers are all stuck with being both provider and protector. Not that women can’t be those things, and not that mothers certainly don’t protect in their own way, but when the father is in the picture, those roles are usually dedicated to him as a basic form of maleness, if you will.

Kang Yi Jin, Soo Jin’s sister is easily the most nurturing, classic mother-type of the women in the story, and she is the only one who has a husband and father in the picture for her children, who, although gone way too much for work, is clearly doing the providing and protecting so she doesn’t have to. Thus, Kang Yi Jin’s femininity is a lot stronger than the other women in the story–she’s more emotional and not as logical, and her focus is on homemaking, cooking meals, and the like. It is only when considering this character that I realized how masculine most of the other women in the story are, especially Soo Jin, and that it is largely due to them having to protect and provide, again roles that would be normally dedicated to a father or father figure, if he was in the picture.

This is where, despite the great, raw emotions pulled out of story, the defining of motherhood doesn’t go far enough. It’s adequate to define women who are indeed still mothers and act as mothers even if the father or a father is not in the picture, but I think the definition of “mother” as it relates to the feminine in particular needs to be both apart from the masculine providing and protecting, and also contrasted to it. To some degree, women have a physical safety radar on all of the time, but if you pay attention to them (or women, if you pay attention to yourself) you may find you act and/or are more in feminine mode when there’s a man on the scene who is or is at least perceived as the protector in the situation. The women, or you, are softer, more relaxed, perhaps more playful, and perhaps more in multi-tasking mode than single-focus male mode. This side of being a mother is woefully neglected on the show, and that is a shame because it is the main “mother” definition to which much of the world relates.

I give the writer props, though, because although Mother never outright says it, the story heavily implies that if the absent fathers had truly been fathers, things might have turned out differently. The only reason this implication can be made is because of the cool nature of women: We adapt. For example, in the absence of a masculine father/protector for either herself or Hye Na, Soo Jin steps not only into a protective and nurturing mother role, but also into that of a protecting and providing father. We do see her behave a little more femininely when she’s around the hunky doctor on the show, but it’s as if she’s trying on a dress. She’s too much in masculine mode for her feminine side to suit her.

All in all, Mother is a great show, exciting and heartbreaking to watch, and even if it doesn’t flesh out the mother definition to my satisfaction, it’s not shy about showing the cycle of abuse and just how awful women can become after being betrayed or abandoned by a man. Hye Na’s biological mother is a pathetic figure, her love for her child hinging not on maternal instinct, but upon keeping any man who will have her, in her life. This woman wouldn’t have been the best mom in the world even if the biological father had stayed and supported her, but she probably wouldn’t have started abusing her child or contemplated suicide. This mother would likely have adapted well to the love and support of a good, strong man, but the show doesn’t really give us enough background into her character to make that a rock-solid certainty. Sometimes parents simply cannot parent and do not have instinctive love for their children. If that doesn’t speak to the existence of evil in the world, I don’t know what does.

It’s far easier to think there must be a reason for the neglect and abuse, that it can be understood in some way, but Young Sin would say there’s no good reason for it. No matter what you’ve been through yourself, there’s no good reason to neglect and/or abuse your child. That message is the takeaway of Mother, and it can apply to either or both sexes, either or both parents. It is a timeless declaration for what kind of person a parent should be.

Her Private Life: Kdrama review

Jun9

I thoroughly enjoyed Her Private Life starring Park Min Young (City Hunter, What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim) and Kim Jae Wook (Coffee Prince). Park is currently my favorite drama actress. She has grown on me since City Hunter and has become very good at her craft. As for Kim, I’d only seen him play minor characters before now, but he did well as a leading man, and is a natural at it.

Her Private Life romantic comedy is possibly the stuff of nightmares for boyfriends and husbands around the globe. The romantic relationship in it is perfect–perhaps too perfect. Who could meet such standards of understanding and willingness to work together? This show is one of example of why some men run from the romanic comedy genre, but really, it’s just as unrealistic for women. Fortunately, most women know this is fantasy and that most men may not be so understanding if your side hobby is fangirling after other men. Yes, that is the main character’s “private life.” She is a crazy fan for the lead singer of a band called White Ocean. Fortunately for her, her love to be ends up thinking it’s a bit cute.

Although I like the feel goods in the series, it doesn’t focus on the fan stuff all that much. It could have been an opportunity to really show, well, how crazy fans get, and how obsessed. It touches on that, but quickly moves on to more comfortable territory of family drama and a first love back story for the leads. If I could read Korean, it would be fun to see how the novel goes, if it follows the same plot or sticks with the fangirling.

My favorite parts in the series were where Kim’s character, gallery director Ryan Gold, infiltrates Miss Sung Deok Mi’s website and message boards, picturing him entering in disguise through a metal detector to an inner sanctum of women sitting at tables and talking as if they were in a coffee shop. It was a fun visual and I was hoping they would do a lot more with it.

My second favorite part was the ending. Everyone ends up happy and fulfilled, even the people who didn’t get to be with the person they wanted. It’s fantasy, but we need that once in a while to keep that bird of hope perched in our souls. I am definitely looking forward to more from the two leads. They have great chemistry and hopefully will work together again.

K-drama Review: Because This Is My First Life

May1

This will be more a review of the second half of this sweet contemplation on couples in their thirties trying to adjust to the work, social, and romance demands that come with being an adult. For my thoughts on the first part, please see Winter’s Last Hurrah. Because This Is My First Life stars Lee Min Ki (Shut Up Flower Boy Band) and the awesome Jung So Min (The Smile Has Left Your Eyes). The writing of this series is good, which is always a helpful thing when one of the characters is a writer, too. Somehow, the show managed to hit the right combination of sentimentality, comedy, and drama.

Would you enter a contract marriage? In America, living together while not being married is pretty commonplace, so it’s more difficult to imagine that people would find it necessary to do a contract marriage unless some huge amount of money was involved or some high stakes circumstances. South Korea’s a bit more conservative and traditional still, so the plot works in this show and they highlight especially the family pressure on the two: Living as landlord and tenant like they want to do would not be at all acceptable to their families.

Would I enter into a contract marriage? As a forty-something-year-old single lady, spinster if we were in Jane Austen’s world, the thought of it is sometimes tempting. Dating has never really been a fun thought for me, though romance and marriage always have been. And my family is conservative Christian, so living together wouldn’t be acceptable, for me or for them. I just couldn’t carry on the charade. And they’d be so disappointed with the lie and really disappointed that there was no love, not to mention being a huge diss on the institution of marriage itself. We often joke about marriage being just a contract, but it’s not, it’s absolutely not. It’s a commitment unlike any other, which is why so many cohabitate instead of taking the plunge. Jumping with both feet in takes real courage, and I don’t get writers like Agatha Christie, for example, in which her characters get married after a couple of weeks. It boggles the mind. Besides, what would I have to offer in a contract marriage: Money? Nope. Carnal favors? Yikes. No, marriage for me would have to be about love, but it is hard sometimes. I have four weddings to go to this spring and summer and they are all for beautiful young women in love and loved, and it seems something, well, only for the young. It seems something that’s passed me by, or I’ve passed it by. Did I mention it’s going to be a difficult season?

Back to the review: I last watched, I think, episode six, when writing the first half review, and the writers had just introduced a corny love triangle. I am happy to report that the love triangle really isn’t one, merely a vehicle to test the main characters’ contract–is it really that, or is their marriage more a real marriage than they want to acknowledge? Of course it’s the latter. Both have already given each other their hearts by this time, and there’s no going back. The biggest problem they have, is really the Korean traditions of one having to help one’s in-laws for certain events. We have a little bit of this in America, but it’s not this pressure of making one person do all the work for something just because they are the new daughter-in-law.

On the night they first met, Jung So Min’s character, Ji Ho, kissed Lee Min Ki’s Se Hee out of the blue because she’d never kissed anyone before and wanted to have a first kiss. Later on, when he’s acknowledging how into her he is, he scoffs, “That wasn’t a kiss, that was a peck, a touching of lips at most,” and shows her what real kiss is. It was very swoon worthy and had me thinking of Crocodile Dundee: “That’s not a knife, this is a knife.” 🙂 Se Hee is so hilariously robotic and analytic, yet he is sweet and alluring as a man in love, and probably more dangerous, too. His goal is simply to not be a hindrance to Ji Ho. If that’s not romantic, I don’t know what is. Like I said before, there was no way she would not fall for him. He’s offering her safety, stability, security, and love that allows her to be who she is instead of asking her to become a pretzel.

More on the pretzel thing: A few posts ago, I talked about Alison Armstrong, her Keys to the Kingdom and The Queen’s Code. Because she’s truly curious, Armstrong has a learned a lot about men, women, and their differences. She often gives the advice: Don’t go for the people you’re super physically attracted to. It will never work. Why? You can’t be yourself. You won’t be yourself, you will constantly be trying to be someone else that you think will impress them. And you won’t be able to turn that off. It’s true, when you think about it. Mostly, I hate all exercise except walking and dancing, and I have professed a profound interest and love in running all to impress a guy that would have never have been the right one for, and who would have never been right for me. I know now, I would have exhausted myself, turning myself into a pretzel for him and still wouldn’t have felt good enough. Armstrong says it best: The people you’re most attracted to, don’t really like you, mostly because they’ve never met you and never will. The people who are attracted to you, but you’re not so physically into them, they’ve actually met you and know you quite well, which is why they like you so much. She says if you’re not having any luck in romance, to give those people a chance. Se Hee’s kind of that man that’s not super attractive, mostly due to his manner, but for the woman he loves–and the love probably came a lot sooner that he thinks it did–he is gold. He is the perfect one for her. With him, she is loved for who she is and she doesn’t have to be somebody else to please him.

The two of them do end up happy, though it takes a mild separation for them to get there. They first have to acknowledge just how much they’ve been dissing marriage and each other, as a whole, but they do end up getting married for real, but keep their “contract” part for fun. And that is great, because, that kind of communication about the relationship is vital to keep it going. They assess where they are, what their expectations are of each other, etc. It’s actually very romantic. As for the other couples, they, too, end up happy, but the women especially have to put aside timelines and expectations. There’s no year in life in which you absolutely have to be married by or have a baby by. Some people have families under the most dire of circumstances and thrive; for others, not even a six-figure salary and a mansion is enough. The question is, what do you want? Do you want marriage? Is it something you can plan for or do you just want to jump in with both feet?

Babies are trickier. In our whole march on the feminism road, we often forget that women’s bodies are built to have babies when their young. Instead it’s encourage in their 30s or even 40s and more as an afterthought after they’ve accomplished career goals or other kinds of goals. As a woman whose time is running out, whose biological clock is ticking: Don’t wait. Your body will drive you crazy wanting to make a baby, and failing the ability to do that, you will want to mother and take care of everyone–the whole world!–with comedic, yet, decidedly disastrous results. All I’m saying is if you’re in your twenties now, I can say as a forty-one year old, you might someday regret that you didn’t have children sooner, and this is a choice that cannot be corrected. There’s no cure. You could have a baby in your forties, but you would every day realize how much easier it would be if your body was younger. Am I being too depressing? I don’t mean to be, it’s just as a person ages, you start to look back on your life and see all the missed chances. The times where if you’d just taken the time to stop, or given that person a chance, that maybe now, you might be so happy in love and family. And I expect it only the gets worse the older one gets. I don’t see it as anything to be depressed over, just contemplating the new perspectives, the new information. Because this is my first life. As Se Hee says, this is all our first lives. We’ve never done this before, and of course we will make mistakes.

Honestly, I am glad to be a Christian where we only have one life to live. If I could go back and relive my life, not only would I likely make the exact same mistakes, but I’d probably make even worse mistakes and would always have the memory of how the first life went a lot better when I couldn’t anticipate what was coming. Like a time traveler who keeps going back to save the life of the woman he loves, but he can never do it. She was always supposed to die. You were always supposed to be as you are now and with who you are with now. Reliving life won’t make you a cooler more sexy person. You might win at sports gambling, but if you didn’t have money in your first life, in your second you probably wouldn’t be able to hang on to it. This first and only life is precious, every second. And a commitment like marriage should be honored, not brushed off as merely a business contract. If it’s a contract, it’s one of the heart, and hearts shouldn’t be navigated idly. Who can win another’s heart? It’s just given, isn’t it? In this, our first lives, we should appreciate that.