If you’ve been a devoted DB reader over the past few years, you’ve already heard me expound on the greatness of Just Between Lovers any chance I get (like, here, here, and here, for starters). But having an invitation to lay out exactly why you (and every heart-having person on the planet) should watch this life-changing drama feels like a challenge I can’t pass up.
Why life-changing? Because it literally dragged me up from the trenches of one of my bluest moments at a point when I needed strength, courage, comfort, and more than a little company. How’s that for a selling point? Since then, I’ve rewatched it upwards of eight times and, while it’s not always so intense, I still get that warm-broth feeling I first had.
So, if you’re in need of a healing drama, this essay is for you. And if you’ve already reveled in the magic of this masterpiece, then let the list below be a reminder of how truly great this drama is — and why you should (re)watch it.
At its core, Just Between Lovers is a survival story. It’s centered on the aftermath of a major building disaster and all the devastation that continues to ripple out from it, even ten years later. But as the story goes on, we meet more characters, and we get underneath all the piles of emotional rubble they’re carrying around, we start to see not only how far-reaching the consequences are, but also how many ways there are to define “survivor.”
While the story is essentially a romance between the two central protagonists, there’s a breadth of characters, each with their own nuance, history, problems, and psychological defenses. There are no true villains here. Every antagonist has a heart. And there’s no perfection either. Every hero is most certainly flawed. The show is a portrayal of humanity, when we’ve hit rock bottom, and the kind of healing that only comes from living through almost unbearable moments — and then finding others who have lived through them too. It’s a reminder that whatever we’re going through is par for the course and we’re not as alone as we may think. And how can you not love that as a take-home message?
1. The Hero
I could probably fill up this whole essay spouting off about this reason alone. I mean, it’s Junho (Junho!) — which is good enough argument to watch anything. Ever. No exceptions. But once we get past that fact, the character he plays, LEE GANG-DOO, happens to be my favorite male lead of all time.
Gang-doo is a perfect balance of hard-headed and soft-hearted. He doesn’t let injustices slide, but will also take a punch when it comes to the people he cares about. He’s scrappy, loud, brash, and a bit of a thug — living in a motel fulltime and doing odd errands for the head of a hostess bar — but he’s also diligent, thoughtful, and kind — paying off his sister’s school loans and working hard at whatever manual labor he can get. (Plus, he’s fine — it’s a little hard to get past that part of the package.)
More than that, though, I love his attitude toward surviving. He may lash out as a way to manage his trauma, but he also recognizes that the world is just a messy and terrible place, and it’s not his fault that things turned out the way they did. He’s resolutely his own person and refuses to let anyone tell him who he should be. And that’s the kind of underdog confidence I can’t help but get behind.
What’s more, when it comes to the female lead, Gang-doo is a freakin’ swoon factory. Yes, it’s true, he starts out moody (though never mean), but when hearts start fluttering between the leads, he’s headed off to the pharmacy for ointment when she burns her hand — and straight through her bedroom window with ice cream when she’s sick (I won’t even mention how he tries to take her cold away with a kiss). But, superficial things aside, he wants to see her heal — and pulls her in his direction so she can start to open up about her own hurt.
2. The Heroine
If I only have good things to say about Gang-doo, just know that the heroine, HA MOON-SOO (Won Jin-ah), is a worthy counterpart. Moon-soo and Gang-doo could be seen as mirrors that don’t exactly match. They both stand up for what they believe is right, but Moon-soo consistently puts herself last. She’s isolated, withdrawn, and suffering silently — which is what Gang-doo tries to nudge her away from.
My affection for Moon-soo lies in her subtle strength. There’s no over-the-top antics with this heroine, but her pain is palpable (and a lot of credit goes to Won Jin-ah for this portrayal). Moon-soo plays caretaker to her alcoholic mother, helps run the family’s bathhouse, and also works fulltime at an architectural practice, all without a word of complaint. But when things get out of hand with her mom, she lets her emotions lead, sobbing and screaming out the truth (which is that she’s scared). While I’m not big into female-saint types that care for everyone but themselves, Moon-soo has a vulnerable strength that’s hard to come by.
But the clincher for me is how she and Gang-doo play off of each other. Moon-soo wants him to stop suffering so much — the same thing he wants for her. And simply by interacting with each other, they start to see new ways of dealing with their wounds. Plus, you know, they fall crazy in love, and it’s a heart-stomping good time to watch.
3. The Friendships
This is a rare drama where I like damn near every character in the entire show. The friendships are so natural (and well written) that I feel uplifted just watching them go about their day-to-day lives. Particularly, I love Gang-doo’s relationships with the carefully crafted cast of outsiders he cares so much about.
First, there’s Halmeoni (Na Moon-hee), Gang-doo’s closest confidant who’s at least three times his age, but acts as way more than a mentor. Halmeoni runs an illegal medical clinic for people with no insurance and gives out life advice the same way she gives out prescriptions. The easy rapport between her and Gang-doo is uncanny — talking as equals, like they’ve known each other forever — and it’s not something I’ve seen replicated in any other drama.
Another fave is Ma-ri (Yoon Se-ah) — the pick-herself-up-by-the-bootstraps madam who manages a hostess bar. She and Gang-doo get along like besties and seemingly love to get in and out of trouble together.
And then there’s Sang-man (Kim Kang-hyun), Gang-doo’s only male friend (which, I admit, is another thing I love about Gang-doo: he understands the ladies). Sang-man is the adult son of the motel owner where Gang-doo lives, and although his intellectual capabilities leave him out of some societal activities, he’s usually the one with the wisest words. I could go on, but all in all, the close-knit friend groups punch this drama up into a higher category.
4. The History
One thing I love about dramas that use real-life events as their base is that I get the bonus of learning about history as I watch (Answer Me 1988 is also a favorite for this reason). While Just Between Lovers isn’t a true story itself, the building collapse at its center is based on a real event: the 1995 collapse of the Sampoong Department Store in Seoul, which is still one of the deadliest structural disasters in world history.
In the drama, it’s depicted as “S Mall” (a clear reference to Sampoong) and many details of the collapse, the search-and-rescue efforts, and the engineering defects behind the disaster are real. As the drama unfolds, we learn about the kinds of people that were caught in the collapse — as well as those that evaded it — and there’s a clear class consciousness that operates with the utmost empathy. For me, this adds a layer of complexity to the story because it’s both an homage to a tragedy and a way to inject the healing power of a great story into something so unthinkable.
5. The Inspiration
On that note, the biggest reason to watch this drama is for the way it deals with grief, loss, suffering, and everyday survival. This is not a show that wants to tug you down and make you feel bad about the world we live in. On the contrary, it reminds us that bad things happen to everybody — nothing we can do about that — and connecting over our common cuts and bruises is a way to gain strength, not a sign of weakness.
That collective spirit is where the drama shines most, leaving us with life lessons about how important it is to find our people. We can’t avoid pain, but we don’t have to make it worse by going at it alone. It’s a drama that aims to heal its viewers right along with its characters — and in my experience, it succeeds in spades. Whenever I need some encouragement, company, or a simple perspective check, I rewatch this show and remember that, whether we know it or not, we’re all in this together — and sometimes it’s only after the unbearably bleak that we’re really able to reach our light.