Breaking Down the Finale: Race Episodes 11-12

Breaking Down the Finale: Race Episodes 11-12

It’s fast, tidy, and satisfying wrap-up for our drama this week, with the reminder that good business practice and gumption always come out on top. In the world of Race, our heroes are rewarded for their hard work and honesty and are given the hope of lots of success to come. And that love line? Well…


 
EPISODES 11-12

Is is possible for a drama to end in a completely satisfying way and yet leave me completely unsatisfied? Because that is the very mixed emotion I am feeling after our finale week.

Like I’ve said about a dozen times now, I was here mostly for the character relationships, so the ending “maybe in the future we’ll get to together” understanding between Yoon-jo and Jae-min did not work for me. It was realistic, mature, and wonderful, yes. But this is a K-drama, and as such, I would have much preferred a couple of heart-fluttering stairwell meetings, a stolen office kiss, and a freakin’ solid ending for our OTP. But at least their careers end on a high note? *Sigh*

Our finale week opens with the disciplinary hearing of Yoon-jo and Jae-min, which is serious and scary and probably means they’re both about to get hung out to dry — but then the drama takes us a few days back in time and we see that everything is actually quite under control. The end point of the protein powder fiasco, fed by nepotism, bribery, greed, and lies, is brought to light by Yi-jung and our crew.

She’s not only the hero of the day — and a role model who actually deserves to be one — but she’s super competent in getting: the guilty parties to “resign,” the proper apology out of the CEO, and a company reorg that shakes up everything in a (mostly) good way. Even Team Leader Song gets a bit of a redemption arc, and I really loved that Yi-jung was able to reach him with her “don’t let Seyong determine your values” speech.

Indeed, the lousy corporate culture of Seyong, as we’ve seen over the course of the drama, just continues to seek its own level, and it’s not until earth-shakers like Yi-jung and Yoon-jo appear on the scene that they’re able to push the people around them to do better. We see Yi-jung do this with the culture more broadly, and we see Yoon-jo do this — unwittingly – with her very own Jae-min.

The disciplinary hearing might be dead in the water with Yoon-jo and Jae-min free to go, but Jae-min busts out of his seat to praise Yoon-jo’s moral gumption (which motivated him to be a better person) and make sure the VP knows that the culture at Seyong sucks. Well, not for long, because Yi-jung and her culture project become a company priority — and a huge success — and the aforementioned reorg and culture changes happen.

The CEO wants Yi-jung to take the newly-opened VP spot, but Yi-jung has another (better) plan for herself, and that’s quitting Seyong and working on repairing her relationship with her daughter. We see the first seeds of this thanks to Yoon-jo’s hero(ine) worship of Yi-jung and her goofy scrapbook. It makes Yi-jung’s daughter just curious enough to learn about the other side of her mother that people so look up to.

As an aside — and a compliment for the writing — the overlapping character relationships in the drama really work well and feel more realistic that the usual drama interconnectedness trope. The different ways our characters relate to each other makes everyone feel more human, and gives us a few different lenses by which to see each of our characters. Yi-jung, for instance, is seen as an old flame, a role model, a dear friend, and a woman that abandoned her family for her dreams.

Back to our heroines at hand, though, like Yi-jung, Yoon-jo also has better plans for herself than battling it out at Seyong forever. But first, some emotional roadblocks! Yoon-jo is “dating” Dong-hoon, but it’s dating in name only and watching her try to force this relationship to happen is downright painful.

However, it was worth dealing with the totally dry and flat character of Dong-hoon for one scene and one scene only: Jae-min wants to celebrate his and Yoon-jo’s promotions, but his face drops a mile when Yoon-jo walks into Utopia with Dong-hoon. Then, Dong-hoon proceeds to act all doting on Yoon-jo, and Jae-min’s agony is palpable. Then, later, Dong-hoon asks what Yoon-jo was like as a little girl and the truth comes flying out. Jae-min says she was the first person to wipe his tears, and thanks her for always being there for him. *Swoon* It’s as clear a confession as any I ever heard, and Yoon-jo is just as flustered as me. She runs out of the bar leaving both men in the dust lol.

This little interlude makes it hella awkward between Yoon-jo and Jae-min (again) until the sudden death of Yoon-jo’s grandma forces them together, and we get another look into Yoon-jo’s personal life. Yoon-jo’s family life has always been a bit too far in the background of this story for me, and if I could get a redo, I would have liked a better balance of office and home life, since there was so much mom baggage to unpack there! However, Yoon-jo’s mom baggage was used in a clever way to give her an inroad to talk with Yi-jung’s daughter. Again, that was a nice character connection that helped this speedy finale week feel more solid.

At the funeral of Yoon-jo’s grandma, Jae-min finally learns that Yoon-jo has long broken up with Dong-hoon, and his coughing fit tells us all we need to know. But Yoon-jo has been busy cooking up plans for herself: she’s quitting Seyong and going to grad school. Bolstered by Yi-jung’s encouragement, she wants to do better for herself, and so… there go all the endless months of toil at Seyong.

It’s here that we hit Jae-min’s true confession scene. Yes, in our final episode, and yes, it takes place at a convenient not-seen-before playground. As Yoon-jo tells Jae-min of her plans for school and how she’s got to study hard the next two years, he smiles. He says he won’t take up her time while she’s studying and pursuing her dream, but when she’s done, he wonders if she can spare him some time.

Yoonjo: “You don’t have to ask me to spare you time — we’re friends.”
Jae-min: “Not as friends. As lovers.”

*Fans self*

While Yoon-jo is shaken at first, she then laughs it off and says that two years in the future is too far to know what will happen between them and essentially says they should not think about it now. Jae-min insists waiting two years is nothing compared to how long she wanted for him, but they agree to be friends and smile shyly. Ugh! After all the flirting, pining, and cross-office stares — and deep affection between them — I really deserved wanted more than a swoony confession and semi-rejection across a swing set in the drama’s final minutes.

To sum things up, we check in on everyone one year later, which cements all the healthy growth that has been set into motion for our main characters. But if you think we’re doing this time jump so we can finally get our OTP together, you’d be wrong. Psych! Closing out our drama, what we get instead is a job offer to both Jae-min and Yoon-jo from Yi-jung. Together, the three stand in her brand spankin’ new floor in a massive skyscraper and await the great and exciting things coming in their respective careers. Yay??

Don’t get me wrong, this is an office drama above all, so the genre necessitates our characters’ career trajectories and satisfaction being the major thrust of the action. But this drama also presented such compelling characters and relationships that I feel a bit underwhelmed with where we have landed for our OTP. It’s a bit of a cop-out to string us along with this slow and steady flirtation between the two of them, only to have them seem more like friends then ever before as we close out.

Perhaps, in the end, the drama took its ideas about career dreams and purpose a little too literally. After all, our heroine Yi-jung is forgiven for choosing her dreams over her family. It seems like that logic also stretches to Yoon-jo, who could very well jump into the arms of the guy who’s her perfect match, but finds grad school more attractive. In fact, I could even take this argument and stretch it to Yoon-jo and her little sister — rather than take care of her in their dysfunctional home life, Yoon-jo’s focus was always on herself and on her work.

Is the drama telling us pursue our dreams, because that’s the heart of life, or is it showing us that when you do, you’ll have to give something else up? Can you have it all, or will you just always have some of everything? In retrospect, the drama actually leaves a lot of food for thought behind as we look at our characters and how they defined their happiness. And as for my happiness, while I enjoyed this drama very much, I’m going to be salty about this unconsummated OTP for a very, very long time.