Where oh where did our little rom-com go? We lost it somewhere in between intense familial relationships and health crises, and we are in full blown melodrama now. I decided to retitle our show to Angst Next Door. If only they told us this was what we were going to get, I would have come prepared.
EPISODES 9-10
While Seok-ryu gets checked out at the hospital, we get a series of flashbacks showing her life with Hyun-joon back in the States. Their cute engagement, the scary moments of her diagnosis, her treatment, and how much they stuck together. As far as I’m concerned this entire plot line needs to die, but just taking it on the merit of what we’re shown, their relationship seems solid and I guess I’m glad she had Hyun-joon since she… didn’t talk to her own family while she was going through all this? Huh?
The drama plays it fast and loose this week, showing us flashbacks, cutting off scenes, and enjoying agonizing us with the question of whether Seok-ryu is sick again or not. One interesting takeaway from the flashbacks is that Hyun-joon didn’t cheat on Seok-ryu after all. Pool Party Girl was merely taking out his contact lens (ROFL) and it just looked like they were making out. Okay. The real thing that broke their relationship was that Seok-ryu went through an (understandably) deep depression after her treatment, and in a way, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. This is painfully realistic, and it has absolutely no business poking its head into my rom-com where two cute neighbors were supposed to be peeking out their bedroom windows and falling in love, exclusively.
Back in the present, it’s clear that Hyun-joon is here to stay. He re-proposes, and the drama (and Seok-ryu) make us think that she accepts. On the heels of this possible reengagement, Seok-ryu and Seung-hyo are on their jungle gym when Seok-ryu tells him about the proposal. Poor boy asks if she was considering it, and when she affirms, he asks, “Even though I confessed?” *Ouch* Seok-ryu tells him he’s just a little boy to her, and this little interlude goes about as well as you think. Seung-hyo is super hurt by her cruel words, and the drama teases us with the gentle knock of someone at the door… wait is that you, Noble Idiocy? Even the hint that Seok-ryu is backing off because she is a) sick again or b) afraid of being sick again is just too much for me.
But it’s not too much for Seok-ryu. The next day, she turns Seung-hyo down again, telling him point blank to throw out the milk container he’s been protecting with his very life blood. He doesn’t even need to wait till it expires — the answer is no. This is just painful, and it throws Seung-hyo into a fever that’s said to be seasonal but we all know it’s the Fever of Heartbreak. Despite her harsh words, Seok-ryu turns up to nurse him, and it’s here that Seung-hyo oh-so-conveniently sees the medical paperwork that is sticking out of her purse just asking to be noticed.
Despite the deus ex machina here, the elongated reveal scene that this kicks off is a truly emotional and painful one. It both closes out Episode 9 and opens Episode 10. Basically, Seung-hyo sees that Seok-ryu was sick and confronts her immediately. He’s so distraught and hurt that he’s crying while they’re arguing… and who walks in but both their moms.
This then extends this already-painful scene into something even more so, when Seok-ryu’s mom hears the news and grabs her daughter and they both weep. But wait, there’s more! When Mom learns that this all happened three years ago and that Seok-ryu is healthy now, she about loses it.
The scene then feeds off this to add on yet another layer, which is Mom dragging Seok-ryu home, and telling Dad and Dong-jin who are sitting on the couch. Now, despite hating this plot line, this whole sequence was packed. Park Ji-young was particularly amazing here, saying more through her lack of words than with all the shouting and smacking that her character has been doing until this point. The same goes for all the actors, really. Well-done. But that doesn’t really make me feel any better about it. If I wanted a cathartic melodrama watch, I would have picked one up. I came here to watch two friends catch feelings for each other, not to have my heart ripped out by grieving parents, grieving friends, grieving soulmates, and grieving protagonists. This is simply too much grief for a rom-com, guys.
We spend all of Episode 10 with our characters reacting to Seok-ryu’s health situation, and I’m torn. I do love that the drama took the time to show everyone’s disparate reactions (parents, Dong-jin, Mo-eum, the ahjummas, and of course, Seung-hyo) and how full of pathos it all was, but I’m not the kind of viewer who likes to have my emotions played on this hard. I know that’s hard to believe coming from a veteran K-drama watcher, but this drama just lays it on a bit too thick.
One thing I really liked, though, was when Seung-hyo confronted Seok-ryu on suffering alone and not telling her family or him — he dismissed all her excuses and said she was just bitter. That struck a nerve. Hmm, maybe that’s what this entire drama is actually about, or should be about. What if it’s not about falling in love with the perfect boy next door, but about how bitterness in your heart will run you aground if left unchecked — because it’s a theme that’s running through Seok-ryu’s entire family. But, what it seems the drama really is trying to say with this plot arc is that you need your loved ones always — but especially when you’re going through hell. This is true. This is a worthy message. But their are better ways to tell it.
In two episodes of emotional outpouring, the angle that got me the most was actually Hyun-joon. Dude sees all the love and support that Seok-ryu has at home now, and decides it’s time to bow out. The two say goodbye over the phone and he leaves. Honestly, I hated this for him. He was the one who stayed by her side through all that… I think he deserves better as a human and a character, despite their rocky ending.
Thankfully, Seung-hyo agrees, and he rushes Seok-ryu to the airport to say a proper goodbye before Hyun-joon leaves for good with his fancy U.S. passport. Seung-hyo thanks him for taking care of her, which I loved. And then Seok-ryu says goodbye and they… shake hands. In my head, she embraces him and they’re able to put a proper goodbye on things, but in reality, she cries standing alone in the airport hidden under Seung-hyo’s suit jacket. I also want to cry my eyes out for days, but I’m so mad at this drama at this point that I don’t want to let it have a single tear from my tear ducts.
Speaking of tears, there’s so much crying and bonding this week and it’s not just limited to our hero and heroine having out their feelings — it extends to Mo-eum, too. She and Dan-ho share a sweet moment where she tells him about Seok-ryu (and he sees how it’s affecting her), and then he shares the traumatic moment when his wife died in an accident and Yeon-du barely made it. They’re both crying and bonding and Mo-eum plants a nice dead fish kiss on him until she realizes what she’s done, head butts him, and runs away. Really, Show, when you said “comedy,” that didn’t mean you had to consistently undercut an interesting storyline and a sweet romance by playing it off for laughs. We deserve better.
Interestingly, there’s no cliffhanger going on this week, and the drama ends with a proper moment of grieving for Seok-ryu, who’s not only saying goodbye to Hyun-joon, but that entire chapter of her life. (Oh and by the way: she’s fine. The most recent biopsy comes back normal.) But something about the way our episodes close this week make me think (read: worry) that the drama is done with this bit of plot and won’t need to do much more than reference it in passing in our final three weeks. And at this point, I don’t know if I’ll be happy or annoyed if they do indeed turn a big page in the plot and just jump into the romance side of things now. After all the angst next door, is it finally time for some romance? And for Pete’s sake, can someone tell Seung-hyo’s parents to actually have a conversation?