The Ballad of 박은빈

Character Dong Hui (Hee), in a bus station, foreshadowing Young Woo's obsession with whales

As June approached, under the long days of a northern solstice, nursery work kept me going until 8pm, sometimes later. At last light, I crashed, exhausted, in front of the TV -the first half-hour lost to a continuous scroll through endless Prime or Netflix possibilities. I had just re-watched Babylon Berlin, a show I savored, in preparation for the possibly never-airing 4th season. I watched the auto-trailers of top-left suggestions like Suits; I then scrolled across and decided to give You a go. I lasted two or three episodes before quitting. It's possible Netflix algorithms calculated that, based on watching a trailer for a lawyer program plus a foreign-language series plus turning off a serial killer romantic not-comedy, I might watch a Korean program about an autistic lawyer. I had seen a few Korean films over the years -The Host, Snowpiercer, Parasite, and most recently Train to Busan -all dark films, most dealing with class and moral attitudes, but I enjoyed Snowpiercer and Parasite, and Busan was a zombie flick, so it was okay, too. 

But Extraordinary Attorney Woo? It's auto-trailer presented like a comedy, a fish out of water story. Was it difficult for me to separate my experience of a brother-in-law's Asperger's from my imagination of this portrayal? Was this actor, herself, on the spectrum? If not, was this okay? The program's intentions could only be sussed with an investment -each episode over an hour long. So I watched that first episode and what I recalled the next day was a supporting character asking Attorney Woo "are you an idiot, are you stupid?" On the other hand, there were other characters in Young Woo's orbit that were endearingly supportive. So I gave it another shot the following evening. And then again.

Part of the what kept my attention is the freshness of a culture's new-to-me media. Also new was the program's emotivity. In my forty-five plus years of watching television, how many shows, or movies for that matter, have brought on tears? I do not recall many, with the notable exception of Dancer in the Dark, Lars von Trier's film starring Bjork about an impossible murder conviction and death row sentence that brought an entire theater audience to tears thanks to the humanity of the corrections officer who escorts the prisoner to her execution. I think of the film Wit by Mike Nichols, with Emma Thompson -dreadfully sad, yes, but no tears. Ted Lasso had scripted emotive moments like those in Attorney Woo, and after watching several Korean dramas, I see how much Lasso borrowed.

But Attorney Woo pushed it to a new level. Once or twice per episode, tears streaming? A time or two, having watched the night before, I woke ready to sob. This can't be right. Is it that I am not okay? Is it this show or was it my life in that moment? Had I lacked access to my feelings, or suppressed them, and this program's earnest expressions became a channel for processing emotions for which my daily life was providing little opportunity? Had I been spending too much time alone? Possibly. My wife had recently landed a new job in another state and in a very short time I found myself suddenly alone.

Woo Young Woo introducing herself to her new colleagues.

So, I watched Attorney Woo and then, sure that I had missed things, re-watched it. Charmed by the lead, Park Eun Bin, I decided to seek other shows on which she was cast. I also did a little research -I had known about the K-pop phenomena, but I was ignorant of two decades of addictive episodic programming coming out of Korean entertainment industry. I am not the intended demographic for this industry, but I suspect it captures some who consider it a guilty, maybe secret, pleasure. While visiting my wife, I spoke with a Korean woman who watches. She said her husband does not watch, but sitting beside her, she often looks over, only to find him tearing up. Does he not watch? 

Over the warm months this past summer, I've seen several series -sometimes multiple times (Do You Like Brahms) and one where I struggled to push through its 50 episodes (Father, I Will Take Care of You). Another (The Ghost Detective) I watched with a fair amount of indifference after what I imagined was an interesting premise became a pedestrian script. I was sure there would be nothing for me with Hello, My Twenties (aka Age of Youth) -a show about four women in their 20s who share an apt and grow, together. This program quickly revealed itself to be outside the common bounds of Korean drama (or anything in the young friends genre) and an inflection point for Park Eun Bin's career. 

As Netflix drops new episodes of Castaway Diva, starring, of course, Park Eun Bin, this November, I am watching. There's talk of a season 2 for Attorney Woo, but I don't think a second season is necessary or a good idea, as the first ended perfectly and second seasons often suffer under high expectations and low resolve. Meanwhile, at the risk of taking these dramas too seriously, I am sharing my thoughts about them -as a way to understand my investment and as a way to distance myself from them. Beware: spoilers lurk in each post, yet, if you would like to jump into Korean dramas, but are unsure where to begin, these posts may be useful anchors for your choice.

Next: The Ballad of 박은빈: The King's Affection