You’re All Surrounded: Episode 20 (Final)
Ready or not, it’s time for the rookies to graduate and find out whether they’ll sink or swim. The team scrambles to catch the baddie, and Pan-seok and Dae-gu challenge each other for biggest heroic sacrifice, because they can’t ever just be content to let the other win at something. Never has abiding by law and order seemed so unfair as it does in this show, but I guess if upholding justice were easy, we wouldn’t have cared about the underdogs who throw themselves into their work day after day, no matter how dirty the politicians, or how thankless the job. You clean up the streets, and does anyone even give you a cookie?
SONG OF THE DAY
Ha Geun-young – “The End, And New Beginning” for the You’re All Surrounded OST [ Download ]
EPISODE 20: “Don’t move! You’re all surrounded!”
Pan-seok faces the room full of reporters and puts his job on the line to get the truth out there. He names Assemblyman Yoo’s daughter as the recently caught culprit in the Masan murder case, and then plays the audio file that was in Chief Kang’s possession. Everyone instantly recognizes Assemblyman Yoo’s voice.
Pan-seok explains that Assemblyman Yoo had Kim Ji-yong’s DNA test forged in order to gain his daughter’s financial backing for his campaign. (And if it wasn’t clear—the money is hers to control because he married into wealth just like his son-in-law. While he is her father, the inheritance is hers.) That led to her snapping and attempting to kill her husband’s ex-girlfriend.
The reporters ask about Chief Kang’s relationship to Assemblyman Yoo, and all Pan-seok says is that it needs to be investigated. But he does tell them that she died shortly after she took possession of the recording, and after leaving a meeting with Assemblyman Yoo. He lets them draw the natural conclusion, and says this is what they want to investigate, because the prosecutor’s office has done nothing to reveal the truth.
He’s prepared to lose his job, but asks that the journalists help the rest of his team investigate the case fairly, and fulfill their duty to report the truth along the way. He says that people call justice dead nowadays, but he urges them to help show the world that that isn’t the case.
The team spills out of the room and greets Pan-seok with hangdog expressions, and he forces a serene smile and chides them for overreacting. But he only gets two steps out of the room when internal affairs comes to take him away for questioning. He asks Eung-do to take care of the kids, and goes to face the music.
The story blows up in the media, and Assemblyman Yoo starts breaking vases. The prosecutor’s office investigates Madam Yoo for Chief Kang’s murder, but she doesn’t even know who Chief Kang is, and scoffs at the accusation that she ordered the family lawyer to kill her.
She goes to confront Assemblyman Yoo for lying to her all these years and causing her to almost kill someone, while he counters that all he wanted was for her to get a divorce—she’s the one who went off the reservation. Which is why you should both be in jail, is what I’m saying.
He says that Chief Kang got involved because of her mess in Masan, so all this is her fault anyway, and adds that none of this would’ve happened if she hadn’t defied him to marry her husband in the first place.
Madam Yoo shudders and says she finally sees now why Mom didn’t leave him a cent. I never thought I’d see the day where I took the crazy lady’s side in an argument. But he gets the last laugh today, and reminds her that he gets to shove her back in an asylum at any time.
The team waits on pins and needles for public opinion to pressure the prosecutor’s office, and Chief Toad bursts in to announce that they finally got the authority to investigate the case. He gives them fancy new gadgets for the occasion and sends them off to do their jobs.
What they didn’t expect was for Assemblyman Yoo to resign, and are shocked to read the headlines. We catch up to his press conference, where he puts in a rousing performance as the contrite father who acknowledges his mistakes, crocodile tears to boot. Of course he only admits to falsifying the DNA test, and resolutely declares that he is innocent concerning Chief Kang’s accident.
The team is floored when he walks into the precinct voluntarily for questioning. They’re not ready for him so soon, which is what he’s banking on. Eung-do says to think of it like an initial round of questions, and not to get sucked into mind games with him. Then maybe you shouldn’t send Dae-gu into the room…
Assemblyman Yoo smirks as Dae-gu sits down in front of him, though that smirk disappears when Dae-gu addresses him by name without the respectful title. But Assemblyman Yoo just ignores all the questions and pokes at Dae-gu’s wounds repeatedly, cooing that he must be so sad that Chief Kang is dead.
He asks if Dae-gu isn’t curious why she became his benefactor, and already Dae-gu loses his temper. He asks how someone could use a person and murder her like that, and Assemblyman Yoo just sighs that it’s too bad Chief Kang is dead, “Since the dead don’t speak.”
Dae-gu can’t contain his tears, and when Assemblyman Yoo gets up to walk out, Dae-gu snaps and slams him up against the wall, growling, “I’m going to kill you!” Ack, Dae-gu, no! The rest of the team rushes over to pull him off, but the damage is done and Assemblyman Yoo gets what he came for. He chuckles that Chief Kang bought a young kid’s heart at a cheap price, and tells his lawyer to get the CCTV footage of the interrogation before walking out.
Eung-do meets Pan-seok as he’s released from questioning, and brings him the security tapes from Assemblyman Yoo’s building that he asked for. He begs Pan-seok to get through this with his job intact, and threatens to resign if he leaves the force: “I’m not kidding! You have to take responsibility for all five of my children!” Pan-seok grouses at him for being needlessly virile and having five kids in the first place, ha.
Dae-gu goes over Boots’ black box footage of the exchange with Lawyer Kim, and this time he notices that the envelope Boots hands over has a different logo for Chasung Group than the one he knows. The internet tells him it’s the logo from 2003, and he tells the team that it’s likely the money wasn’t the price for his life, but whatever was in this envelope.
The logical conclusion is that the object inside is also from 2003, though they make some leaps to guess that it was a burner phone that Boots used, perhaps with an incriminating recording on it. Wouldn’t that be mighty convenient. The question is whether it still exists.
Director Shin comes out of a board meeting and tells his wife that he just gave his shares away to their employees. Madam Yoo freaks out and asks what happened to her shares, and finds out that Ki-jae followed Dad’s lead with the shares she put in his name following her arrest. Assemblyman Yoo comes home to the news that they’re now penniless, which is pretty satisfying, and daddy and daughter blame each other for ruining their lives.
Dae-gu risks the bluff and sends Assemblyman Yoo a photo of the Chasung envelope and tells him that Lawyer Kim is going to hand over the phone inside. Assemblyman Yoo doesn’t give himself away, but he does immediately call Lawyer Kim to threaten his life if he dares to betray him now.
Lawyer Kim fears for his life (Beware of trucks!) and rushes to his sister’s used bookstore, not realizing that Soo-sun and Gook are right behind him. He goes straight to the room in the back and digs out the phone—it’s right where he left it, which leaves him more confused than ever.
Tae-il joins them as they spy on the bookstore from afar, and then Gook suddenly gets a bright idea and asks Tae-il for his jacket. He grabs a few business cards off the street then stands next to Lawyer Kim’s car wiping at the smudges on the window, and the sister naturally assumes Gook is his chauffer.
Lawyer Kim runs back out, and this time Gook plays the part of nightclub promoter, making conversation with Lawyer Kim so that it looks perfectly natural when he returns to the bookstore a minute later to tell the sister that he was sent back to fetch something that Lawyer Kim forgot. Smooth, Gookie.
He rifles through the back room where she sends him, and lucks out when he spots a few books put back upside-down. He digs around behind them in the shelf, and bingo—there’s the phone tucked inside a box.
Dae-gu arrives to join the team, and Gook walks out dejectedly, only to fake them out with the evidence just to look extra cool. You earned it! They cheer and give him his due, but that lasts about seven seconds before a van full of thugs comes spilling out onto the sidewalk to chase them. Huh? Did I miss something? Who are these people?
I don’t think they know why they’re being chased either, but I guess when gangsters come at you with sticks, you just instinctively run first, ask questions later. They split up, but Dae-gu and Soo-sun run together holding hands, and they get backed into a corner.
They turn out to be the target anyway, and are kidnapped and brought to Assemblyman Yoo, who’s now just fully embracing the gang boss persona and drinking whiskey in underground basements.
He tells his minions to play the audio files on the phone to see if it’s really the one they’re after; sure enough, it’s another recording made by Boots, of Yoo giving the order to go clean up the crime scene and make sure Mom is dead. He tells Boots to kill her if she’s still alive, and then to kill her son.
Dae-gu reels, and Assemblyman Yoo says he should’ve died eleven years ago. He gives the order to take care of them both and starts to walk out. Dae-gu stops him and says the only person he really needs to kill is him, so he’ll make it easy and kill himself so that it’s a clean suicide, just as long as he lets Soo-sun go.
He reminds Yoo that he’s already suspected of multiple murders—this is a way to walk away without getting his hands dirty. This’d better be a trick, Eun Dae-gu.
Assemblyman Yoo agrees to the terms, and tells his minions to let Soo-sun go. She pleads with Dae-gu not to do this, and they drag her away from him kicking and screaming. She asks if he really thinks this is for her benefit, and how she’s supposed to live: “You told me never to die in front of you! What’re you doing now?”
She screams in resistance but they keep dragging her away, and finally when she feels like it might actually be the end, she cries, “I love you! Ji-yong-ah, I love you. I love you, Ji-yong-ah.”
He hasn’t looked her in the eye all this time, but he does now, and a tear falls. She begs him to stay alive no matter what, and gets taken away.
Once she’s gone, Dae-gu picks up the gun in front of him and raises it to his temple. One of the thugs stands beside him with a gun pointed at his head. Dae-gu says he wants to know just one thing before he dies—did he kill Chief Kang?
Assemblyman Yoo finally admits to ordering the hit on Chief Kang, and Boots too. He tells Dae-gu to pull the trigger now that his curiosity’s been satisfied. Dae-gu’s hand trembles as he presses the gun against his head. He reaches for the trigger… and then throws the gun down on the ground.
He stands up and challenges Assemblyman Yoo to just shoot him, because he’s not going to hand his life over to someone like him. Assemblyman Yoo grabs his minion’s gun and points it in Dae-gu’s face himself, and Dae-gu says it’s better this way since he might as well get blood on his hands for this. He grabs the barrel of the gun with his hand and pulls it close: “SHOOT!”
At the same time, Gook gets a video file sent to his phone and yelps when he opens it—it’s Assemblyman Yoo pointing a gun, seemingly straight at the camera. He shows Tae-il and Eung-do, and they race to get there faster.
Dae-gu now reveals the button-camera he’s been wearing all this time, and says that even if he dies here today, the evidence will remain and Assemblyman Yoo will be forced to pay for his crimes. I see that you had a plan there, but does dying actually have to be a part of it? Does it really?
But before Yoo has the chance to pull the trigger, Pan-seok comes busting his way in to save the day. Woohoo! I love that he’s wearing a gardening hat for his big hero moment. He knocks out the thugs and points a gun at Yoo, and Dae-gu uses the moment to fight him for the gun.
The boys arrive at the compound, and a shot rings out. They scramble down to the basement, where Dae-gu is already handcuffing Assemblyman Yoo. He arrests him for the murder of Chief Kang, Boots, and his own attempted murder, and reads him his rights. Finally, it’s done.
The team remains behind, and Eung-do wonders when Pan-seok got here. He looks down quizzically at the gun in his hand: “Eh? It’s a BB gun!” The kids look over at him in shock, and Pan-seok just shrugs, all I’m suspended, whadduya gonna do? HA.
Pan-seok in turn asks Dae-gu what he would’ve done if he hadn’t arrived to save the day—was he really just going to die? The rest of the guys wonder what he means, and Pan-seok just brushes it aside.
Soo-sun stumbles in crying, and the guys leave them alone to talk. Soo-sun: “If you ever do something like that again, you’ll die by my hand first.” She hugs him in relief.
An arrest montage shows Assemblyman Yoo and his daughter both being taken away in handcuffs, and poor Ki-jae crying for his mom. The rookies take a moment to enjoy the satisfaction of finally catching that bastard and closing the case, and reminisce about the things Pan-seok used to say about them.
Dae-gu brings up Pan-seok’s final disciplinary hearing tomorrow, and they sigh wondering if they’ll really lose their team leader like this. At his hearing, Pan-seok says his team was out of options, and that press conference was the only thing he could do to support them.
Pan-seok: “I wanted to lend them by back so that they could step on their despair and stand up. That is what a sunbae and adult is supposed to do.” He doesn’t make excuses for his actions, and says he’ll accept whatever punishment they see fit.
Noooooooo, in the next scene, Gook carries a box out to Pan-seok’s car, and everyone comes out to see him off. Whyyyyy? Can’t he just get a suspension or something?
Chief Toad hands him some enchanted red beans for protection, Eung-do cries, and Gook hugs him goodbye. He exchanges silent looks with the rest of the kids, and Sa-kyung motions at him to call her later. And just like that, he leaves the Gangnam precinct.
The team gets back to their desks, and Eung-do sees that Pan-seok left his notebook behind. He’s stopped at a red light down the street, when Dae-gu suddenly appears in his rearview mirror waving his notebook and running to catch up.
Dae-gu hands him the notebook and Pan-seok asks if he ran all this way just for this, and Dae-gu shakes his head. When asked if he has something to say, Dae-gu finally tells him, “Thank you.” Aw. He says he’s thankful to him for a great many things, and then says goodbye with a salute. Awww. I might cry.
Pan-seok looks up at him and salutes him back with a smile, trying not to cry. They stay frozen like that in the middle of the intersection, and Dae-gu’s tears almost spill out, but the light turns green and he awkwardly escapes the mushy moment by directing Pan-seok to go on green.
Dae-gu bows one last time, and Pan-seok drives away, keeping his eyes on Dae-gu’s shrinking reflection in his mirror as he goes. The more Pan-seok tries not to cry, the more it kills me. He tamps down his tears and says aloud, “Be well, Ji-yong-ah.”
One year later, Pan-seok is the chief of a tiny regional police station, where his latest case is the mystery of the great chicken escape. Phew, at least he didn’t get kicked off the force entirely.
He gets a package in the mail, and finds a framed picture of everyone in the Gangnam precinct and a letter from Soo-sun catching him up on the latest news and assuring him that his kids are doing well.
She tells him that Chief Toad has finally been promoted to chief of police, and he’s so happy about it that he doesn’t even yell at them anymore. Eung-do got a commendation from the president, and his wife is pregnant with their sixth. Dude.
Tae-il is really into forensic science lately, impressing even their lab experts with his know-how. And Gook is dating—we watch him get a love note from one of the female officers.
As for Dae-gu, Soo-sun sneaks into the evidence room where he’s taking a nap, and gets caught red-handed trying to steal a kiss. He opens his eyes and calls this a crime, and then when she tries to run away in embarrassment, he pulls her close to kiss her back. They inch forward slowly, and then just as their lips touch, two detectives crash the party and send them scrambling for cover. Boo.
They find what they were looking for and leave, and Dae-gu and Soo-sun breathe a sigh of relief and blame each other for almost getting caught. Thankfully Dae-gu isn’t about to let the moment pass without getting his kiss, and turns her face toward him to pepper her with kisses. How adorable.
All Soo-sun writes in her letter is that she and Dae-gu are getting along and doing well, but Pan-seok reads between the lines and chuckles, “You naughty pet rabbits!”
She promises that the team will take a day off soon to go visit him together, and signs off with, “Forever your kid, Uh Soo-sun.”
Pan-seok gets a call and runs cheerily to the bus stop where Sa-kyung has just arrived to visit, but he barely has a chance to greet her before noticing a man ride by on a scooter with a chicken poking its head out of a box. Thief!
He whirls around and gives chase, and this time Sa-kyung doesn’t even bat an eyelash that he’s breaking a date for a case, and just chases Pan-seok chasing the chicken thief. Pffft. I could watch this chase scene all day. Pan-seok outruns the scooter and cuts him off, and his chicken case is solved.
And in Gangnam, the kids answer a call for a robbery in progress, and Dae-gu leads the way as our four rookies strut down the aisle to go save the day.
Ah, the slo-mo power walk. Where would our foursome be without it? As a finale episode, I actually enjoyed the hour and the note we end on—Pan-seok returns to his simpler idealistic roots as a passionate detective who chases chicken thieves with just as much fervor as he would any murderer, and the rookie foursome grows confident enough to stand on their own feet without him. On principle, I like the story of growth that pushes them to become future Pan-seoks of their own, rather than remain under his wing forever. BUT, it breaks my heart anyway that Pan-seok had to leave, and it’s not enough that they keep in touch. Would it have killed anyone to add an epilogue with Chief Toad putting in a request for Pan-seok’s transfer? It’s just wrong to end with him out there in the countryside when he belongs with his kids.
I actually don’t have too many qualms about the story events that happened in the finale, but my problems with it echo the problems I had with the series as a whole—that is, the show didn’t play to its strengths. We spent a needless amount of time on villains and exposition and building the overarching case against Assemblyman Yoo, when the stuff that I loved about the show was everything besides that case. And in the same way that we spent precious time on prolonging the capture of Madam Yoo at the cost of leaving Pan-seok and Sa-kyung’s romance underdeveloped and key character moments underutilized, the finale gave us too much Yoo and not enough of the development and resolution I wanted for our characters.
It’s too bad that the comedic flair we saw at the beginning of the series died down so early, because the drama started to feel repetitive with its pile of misery atop misfortune for our hero, even though he mostly took it like a champ, minus a few outbursts and a late bout of idiocy in risking his life to get a confession out of the baddie. And despite the heavier storylines for Dae-gu, I enjoyed the tone of the series throughout—it never took itself too seriously, and even the biggest conflicts were buoyed by human foibles and everyday character moments that kept it from trying to be self-important. One of my favorite things about the series was the way it didn’t glorify police work, and that a good deal of the cases were solved by poring over countless hours of CCTV footage, chasing after witnesses, and sitting in cars for days at a time. It was grunt work, most of it thankless, and the rookies made their share of mistakes too. I actually wished they made more, because they went from being terrible flunkies to being super cops in pretty rapid time, and I wanted more of the bumbling baby steps and funny lessons from Pan-seok that we saw early on.
I would’ve gladly traded half of the complications in the central murder investigation for more time spent developing our side characters, either of the romances, or just filling the space with more police hijinks. The relationship I wanted to spend much more time on was Dae-gu and Pan-seok’s. They were the heart of the show, and yet had fewer truly meaningful scenes together than Dae-gu did with Soo-sun, for instance, who was great but basically played Dae-gu’s shoulder to cry on for the last quarter of the show. Dae-gu’s salute at the end and Pan-seok’s unspoken reaction was pretty pitch-perfect, but as always with them, it left me wanting more. The two taciturn men leaving so much unspoken was a fantastic way for Dae-gu to send him off, and yet when I look back on the series as a whole, there aren’t enough moments like that between them that stick out for me. The show succeeded in shaping Dae-gu to become a mini Pan-seok, but I feel like I was robbed of the big conversations. They had them with other people, and I know they understood each other by the end, but some things you just want said aloud. And hugged out. Repeatedly.
If the show had cast lesser actors, it might not even have been worth following through to the end. But Cha Seung-won and Lee Seung-gi had such great chemistry with each other and with the cast, that they made me care very much for the characters despite a very obvious plot. Cha Seung-won is truly gifted at turning on a dime from comedy to heartfelt drama, and there’s so much emotion he plays in silent looks that goes beyond what’s written on the page. I don’t know how he does it, but he says nothing, and I can read regret and sorrow and longing and gratitude and pride in his eyes. It’s crazy. And I really enjoyed Seung-gi as a hothead who challenged him at every turn, and I appreciated that he stayed consistent from start to finish.
The rookie foursome was so lovable and great together that I feel like the show sort of lucked into that group chemistry. The standout was Park Jung-min, who played Gookie—he shocked me with his comedic timing, especially since I’d only seen him in the very dark Bleak Night before this drama. He’s so natural that it doesn’t feel like he’s acting, and it makes me want to see him do comedy all the time. Ahn Jae-hyun is still very green and had the least steady performance of the group, but he had a great rapport with Park Jung-min and they had the most endearing bromance of the show. I love the kinds of roles Go Ara is taking on now, and she’s proving herself to be nimble at comedy and drama alike. Soo-sun didn’t get as much development as Dae-gu did, but their relationship was so sweetly giving and supportive. I loved that their relationship grew very naturally out of being partners, and that they were always equals who respected each other.
The writing proved to be the show’s greatest weakness, but there’s something to be said for the cast elevating the material as much as they did. I still enjoyed the series thoroughly, because when it did balance the drama with levity, it was really entertaining and fresh. And no matter how overwrought the mystery became, I cared for the characters, who were written with consistency. They had realistic flaws and interesting layers (save for the villains, but I don’t want to waste more time on them), and I liked the way it always seemed like their lives were going on outside the precinct, even if the camera hadn’t followed them home. A better balance of that home life onscreen would’ve been even better, but I do appreciate that the ending reflects that same feeling—Pan-seok will always be the leader who raised them, life will go on for them as cops and their days will be filled with mundane police work once again, and when they’re called into action they’ll take on every new case with just as much passion as they did on Day One, this time with an ounce of confidence under their belts.
Watching them grow up has been a fun ride, and their journey to becoming detectives remained worthwhile no matter what new plot turn came our way (or stalled on its way, as the case often was), because what we really cared about was the family that had formed at the Gangnam precinct. It wasn’t the smoothest ride, but You’re All Surrounded wins some points for consistency and heart, and for some truly endearing characters that I’ll probably remember long after the story’s been wiped from my brain.
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 19
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 18
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 17
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 16
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 15
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 14
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 13
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 12
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 11
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 10
- Lee Seung-gi injured on the set of You’re All Surrounded
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 9
- Election preemptions for Wednesday dramas
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 8
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 7
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 6
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 5
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 4
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 3
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 2
- You’re All Surrounded: Episode 1