There’s something to be said for a drama that ends just the way you expected but manages to be satisfying just the same. Which doesn’t mean it was flawless (and I’ll discuss that later) but for the most part, I ended this series with a satisfied sigh. Despite having a second season planned for later this year, we get a nice wrap-up for the characters and a general sense of well-being for their future.
When I first started watching cable drama Romance Hunter, it was mainly out of curiosity, since I hadn’t heard anything about it. (I was surfing clubboxes for something else, and the title caught my eye, so I downloaded it. I stumble across lots of things serendipitously like that, and it’s always a nice feeling when one sticks.) The first episode was mildly amusing — as I noted in a previous post, it was a little too similar to Sex and the City for me to find it completely engaging, but shallowly, I was intrigued by the actor who I guessed would become the main love interest. His character is all the stuff young women’s daydreams are made of (handsome, competent, gentle but not unmasculine, sensitive but not overly, with a hint of mystery), so it was enough to keep me going. (Caveat: Romance Hunter is probably a show that appeals directly to women, even more so than the typical romance dramas on broadcast TV. I won’t say men won’t like it, but it seems very heavily female-skewed, and intentionally so.)
But it was in Episode 5 that everything clicked into place, and hooked me. (Unfortunately, as Murphy’s Law dictates, I’d only had the first five episodes downloaded, so I was forced to stop and wait just when I was most interested in continuing.) The reason was, although the first four episodes were entertaining, the fifth was when the show seemed to shake off the SATC mantle and come into its own.
I’ve been meaning to write this post for a while but it coincides with recent topics, so here goes.
I think there’s a prevalent (mistaken) perception — particularly if kdramas are a primary source of information — that Koreans are puritanical about sex. In my opinion, they really aren’t. There are traditional elements in the culture, of course (just thinking about discussing sex with family is a horrifying concept) — but it’s like that common misconception that every generation thinks it invented sex. What’s most conservative about Korea, perhaps, is the representation of sex in the media, but I think it would be short-sighted to assume the culture as a whole is some Victorian, pearl-clutching, bless-my-heart, faint-at-any-hint-of-indecency society.
To wit, I present exhibits A, B, and C: the kdramas (because it always comes back to dramas!) Coffee Prince, Hyena, and Romance Hunter. Yes, I know dramas aren’t a complete or accurate representation of society, but I think it’s worth pointing out that there’s a spectrum here, too.
Despite the winningness of Coffee Prince, I’m starting to veer from cheery immersion into overload territory, and before that flares into full-on burnout, I thought I’d turn my attentions elsewhere to balance things out a bit. I’ve started watching some other series, dabbling in a sea of first episodes, trying to see which ones are worth sticking with.
The first to stand out as noteworthy is the short Best Theater miniseries Taereung National Village (태릉선수촌), which is a series of which I’ve heard many good things (this one’s for you, thundie!) and had been meaning to try even before realizing that its director is the same Lee Yoon Jung who is currently at the helm of Coffee Prince.
