Letter #60: Crash Course in Romance

Good morning, Erin.

As I sit down to write this, I find myself neck deep in the series of BTS variety show videos you gave me—which I am 90% sure are a test to see just how obediently I will follow your viewing recommendations and 10% sure you just think I’ll enjoy because they’re fun and you want me to have a good time.

…which I bring up not because I want you to prep your guess for which of the boys I’ve settled on as my fave (though, of course, you absolutely should do that) but because I’m about to talk about Crash Course in Romance, which you simultaneously told me to watch and complained took a nosedive because there was a needless murder mystery subplot crammed in the middle of it. Like half the shows I’ve watched in the last six months. ‘Cus we all know, if there’s one thing we’ve come to love in our K-dramas, it’s lighthearted romances with needless murder mysteries crammed in the middle of them. 

So, yeah. Here we go:

1. I think the only place to start any discussion of this show is with the number of times it had the chance to do a pretend-to-be-dating trope and absolutely didn’t. Which is a lot of times. And I documented all of them. With “FAKE RELATIONSHIP NOW???” written excitedly each time. Followed in every instance by a far less excited “daaaaaaaammit.” Thoroughly disappointed, let me tell you. 

2. Also, no need to bury the lede, here: Hae-e (the daughter) is #BestGirl. Which is going to seem somewhat counterintuitive when I later talk about being madly in love with Su-a (the angry rival girl who goes nuts with stress), but I don’t see how she couldn’t be after the way she ambushes the livestreamer to let Mr. Choi know that her mother is neither married nor really her mother. Nothing was going to beat that, no matter how cute Su-a was. Which was a lot.

3. Speaking of Hae-e: I don’t think I could have cared less about the subplots at the high school. I mean, when a love triangle fails to garner my attention, you know something is amiss. 

4. To wit: explain to me how the Su-a stuff was solely about her being jealous of Hae-e/desperate to hold her top spot in the class and not also about, like, being a secret romantic rival for Sun-jae (or, if I’m writing this story, secret romantic rival for Hae-e). Seems like such a waste of dramatic potential, since she seems to be around just to further the “are we pressuring our kids too much?” theme. Which is a good theme and all, but…it’s not a very deep character choice, when half of the characters on the show have the exact same thing to deal with. 

4A. …which, for the record, has nothing to do with me being madly in love with Su-a. 

5. By absolute coincidence, I got something in my eye at the exact same time we got the flashback scene of little girl-Hae-e asking young Ms. Nam if she can call her “mom.” 

6. There’s a fun (if subtle) parallel between how Ms. Nam is the non-parent parental figure to Hae-e and how Ms. Nam’s mother acted as surrogate mother for young Mr. Choi. 

7. Mr. Choi’s office computer keyboard is shaped like an old typewriter, and I absolutely love it. 

7A. I don’t know if you remember, but I didn’t have a cell phone until the end of 2020—and only because, um, circumstances made it impossible for me not to. Well, for the longest time, I said the only way I was going to get one was if, as appears in one instance in the “future” chapters of the Death Note manga, they made a rotary cell phone. So…me liking that keyboard makes sense, is what I’m saying. 

7B. Now, in fairness, the smartphone wasn’t a thing, really, at the time I saw the rotary cell phone in Death Note, so there wasn’t much utility to cell phones beyond making phone calls. I mean, I’m still not the biggest fan of smartphones on a moral level, but they are swish pieces of tech, let me tell you. Obviously better than the old cell phones. 

7C. …though, given the option, I’d still get a rotary cell phone. I’d love that. 

8. Speaking of things I was vibing with with Mr. Choi: he drives a Hyundai. Just sayin’. 

9.  …and I can’t sleep in my bed, either. Haven’t for months. Like, since Christmas, I’m pretty sure. 

10. The whole issue with the waffle shop workers and Ms. Nam’s brother was…unpleasant to watch. Which is the point, I know, but it upset me in the same way the bullying in The Glory did: I am infuriated by the needless mistreatment of anyone. People are mean and lash out and are miserable to each other, and it sucks, but that’s just how we are. But you take it that step further…and…well. Point is, this sequence was very effective, obviously, because I was quietly seething in my seat the whole time. 

11. It’s been more than a year since I watched My Mister, and I now finally know what “foot volleyball” is. This series was worth the time just for that. 

12. Mr. Choi’s piano player blind date is unsurprisingly beautiful—but did you know the actress who played her made her “debut” as a participant on a Korean dating show? Well, she did. And, though I know this is a small sample size, I don’t think she holds a candle to our So-e. 

13. Okay, I said that nothing was going to beat Hae-e’s confession about Ms. Nam not being her mom (so that she and Mr. Choi could date without any issues)—and nothing does—but I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that Mr. Choi’s stealth confession to Ms. Nam at that college Q&A broadcast was pretty darn good in its own right. 

14. I’m not one to typically notice (or care about) these kinds of things, but…the rich folks in this series had some really nice looking apartments. 

15. Okay, okay—I know you’re really just looking to hear about one very specific thing in particular, which is how many people I recognized in the cast. Sorry to keep you waiting:

• the friend from 20th Century Girl as Hae-e

• Landlady Divorcee from Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha as Ms. Nam’s friend (which made my day)

• Coach Choi from Weightlifting Fairy as Sun-jae’s mom (which double-made my day)

• the doctor from The Silent Sea/Ji-ho’s mom from Because It’s My First Life as Su-a’s mom

• Ju-ri’s mom from It’s Okay to Not be Okay as Ms. Nam’s mom

• the homeroom teacher from True Beauty as Ms. Nam’s brother

• one of the main guys from the one episode of Hospital Playlist I watched as Mr. Choi

• Ms. Cho from Hotel Del Luna as Hae-e’s biological mother

16. I really like that Ms. Nam’s catchphrase is literally “Anyway!”

17. I also really liked that they choose to translate Ms. Nam’s go-to verbal sign of frustration as “cripes.”

18. I also also really like that Mr. Choi lets slip a “cripes” or an “anyway” pretty early on as a sign that Ms. Nam is already very much on his mind. 

18A. That I don’t seem to have made note of which of these two things is the thing he said specifically I like not much at all. Total rookie mistake. Very embarrassing. 

19. I really like the main couple, here. I think they’re very cute together, and I found their romance very believable—particularly how it unfolded over the course of the show. 

20. I could not have cared less about Hae-e and Sun-jae.

21. …but I was hardcore into the three seconds of Su-a x Hockey Boy we got in the final episode coda. 

22. And I totally called that Landlady Divorcee and Ms. Nam’s brother were going to couple-up. Which was fine. If maybe a little under-baked. 

23. Much as I didn’t care for Hockey Boy’s time on screen (minus his three-second romance tease with Su-a), I must give credit where it is due: he’s right that you should lean forward, not tilt your head back, when you have a nosebleed. I’m going to assume I’ve mentioned this in a previous letter and am sort of repeating myself, but I think it’s a point worth repeating, if that’s in fact what I’m doing. 

23A. I get nosebleeds a lot. Well, not as badly as I used to. Or as often. But I used to get them badly and pretty frequently, when I was a kid. Like, in high school, I remember my Spanish teacher eventually told me not to even raise my hand to get permission to head over to the nurse’s office (which you had to do for nosebleeds) and to just go. That she’d assume me getting up meant I had a nosebleed. Which, even then, I thought was kinda funny.

23B. Which is not to say I got nosebleeds constantly or anything. It was mostly just whenever I had to blow my nose with frequency, like during the winter or at the tail end of having a cold. But once they started up, I’d probably end up having them more or less daily for a couple of weeks before everything fully healed up. 

24. I already mentioned that I was happy to see Coach Choi (which is no surprise since I always enjoy her), but this is probably the first time I’ve ever seen her in a role where she had to, like, really act. Not that she’s ever phoning in a performance, but she’s not usually playing a character with much pathos to explore, is all. (I mean, playing actual Coach Choi had some depth to it, but it wasn’t anything complicated.) Anyway, I thought she did a pretty good job, here. And good for her. 

25. There’s a really clever joke in Episode 3 that really only works as well as it does because the character writing for Ms. Nam has so eloquently set it up: when she heads out for a cram school meeting, she wants to look as respectable as possible, so she’s put on a suit—but she’s riding her scooter to get there, so she’s got her very un-respectable scooter helmet on. Landlady Divorcee remarks on the clash, and Ms. Nam says it’s fine, telling her that it’s hip to be a little dissonant and referring to it as a “mix and match” style. To which Landlady Divorcee responds, “Are you sure you don’t mean ‘mis-matched’?” Which, yes, is a funny retort, but it’s clever because the joke recalls Ms. Nam’s penchant for screwing up idioms—which she’s not doing, here, but which Landlady Divorcee sort of sarcastically insists she must be because of how bad she thinks Ms. Nam looks. Which is probably not the most eloquent way to have described the cleverness of the joke, but…I just really liked how well it worked and wanted to share that enthusiasm for the line with you. 

26. ANYWAY…

27. Speaking of things that I thought were really clever: I really like how Mr. Choi’s personality changes so dramatically after he eats Ms. Nam’s cooking. It’s very much reminiscent of the cliche way characters tend to change after they fall in love—which is clever, here, because that’s kind of exactly what’s happening: he’s reignited the love he felt from Ms. Nam’s mother when she was taking care of him as a young man. 

28. And speaking of being in love: did I mention that I liked Su-a? Because I really, really, really liked Su-a. Like, immediately liked Su-a. She gave me instant Chae-ran, would-date vibes. Yes, because (as I wrote many times in my notes) I thought she was really cute, but also because—and this should not shock you in the least, at this point—her introduction to the story is being mean to our young protagonist character. Which is a problem I have. And I’m clearly not going to do anything to correct it. 

29. I hope to see Hae-e in more things, in the future. I like that actress. (Even though I’m not falling all over myself about how pretty she is. Not that I need to, of course. I just…look, she’s obviously very pretty, just…not in a way that captures my heart, y’know? Which is totally fine and all. I’m just mentioning it as a way to emphasize that I enjoyed her as an actor and would like to see more acting from her, rather than just be able to stare at her more.)

30. In Episode 5, Ms. Nam is wearing shorts all day, and I wonder how much of that has to do with it being hot out and how much of it had to do with knowing Mr. Choi was going to come over and wanting to show off her legs. 

31. Hilariously, Coach Choi works for “T & A Law Firm.” Which I assume is a coincidence and not a cheeky joke. But…I dunno, it could be, I suppose. Regardless, I tittered. 

32. I love how quickly Hae-e figures out Mr. Choi likes her mom, and how she immediately tries to make it happen for them. (Reminder: #BestGirl.)

33. INTERLUDE: I’m working on this portion of the letter after Easter dinner at my grandmother’s. I think I ate three days worth of food. The over/under on regretting this decision is 2 AM. And I guess we’ll see how that turns out. 

34. Something I’ve realized over the course of all these Korean shows is that Americans and Koreans seem to—at least per subtitles—make yes or no affirmations in opposite ways. Here’s what I mean: if someone were to say, “She didn’t get accepted?” an American would shake his head as if to say, “No, she did not,” whereas a Korean would nod his head as if to say, “That’s correct.”

35. There are quite a few bumps and hiccups to Ms. nam and Mr. Choi getting together, many of which are misunderstandings that we, as the audience, can see are going to crop up from miles away. Which means my heart was breaking even in advance of any of those moments actually appearing on screen. But absolutely nothing got me like that moment when, to protect Ms. Nam and Hae-e, Mr. Choi put the kibosh on their will-they-won’t-they and told Ms. Nam that he was just confusing his love her mother’s food for real feeling towards her…and Ms. Nam, left alone in the aftermath of this, weeps to Landlady Divorcee that, though this result means everything else has worked out for her and Hae-e, she’s stunned by how much it hurts to have lost her chance with him. “I must have liked him a lot,” she cries—and that absolutely killed me. Such an effective moment. Very well done.

36. Relatedly, I thought Mr. Choi’s out-of-the-blue realization that he liked Ms. Nam (though it was obviously obvious to us) was great. Very realistic. 

36A. …I mean, you’ve had that happen to you, right? One day, you look over at someone you’ve seen a million times before and then—WHAMMO—you’re smitten? This is definitely a thing that happens to everyone, right? Please tell me I’m not totally alone in this. 

37. And…sigh, I guess now we have to talk about the murder subplot—and how, as a tl;dr, it was entirely unnecessary to the plot. 

37A. When I say “unnecessary,” I mean that I don’t know what it contributed to the overall story that it needed to be there. I suppose there’s an argument to be made that, thematically, it reinforced the themes or motifs of protecting someone you care about and/or of going to an extreme in pursuit of something that, at one point, could have been considered positive (the main one in the story being about the importance/“importance” of exams). But, as far as arguments go, I’m not even sure the “pressuring kids to do well on these stupid tests is bad” angle was particularly well done, so to say that the murder subplot was at all thematically important seems tenuous, at best. 

37B. …to say nothing of how dissonant this made the tone of the show. When the Camellia Blooms had a similarly bipolar tone, but the murder case in that show was much more central to the main plot (though it, too, had issues reconciling the disparate genres). 

37C. I relatively quickly figured out the killer was Mr. Choi’s assistant, that he was also the brother of the dead girl from his nightmares, and that Sun-jae’s brother was not only a misdirect but tracking the killer himself—which I know doesn’t surprise you because I am the world’s greatest detective, and anything else would have been wildly out of character for me. 

37D. …don’t think I don’t know you’re making a snide remark about Su-a and me not being wildly out of character, Erin. The heart wants what the heart wants!

37E. Despite me figuring out the twist pretty early on, I give the show credit for not assuming the audience wouldn’t figure out who the killer was. They don’t treat the revelation that the assistant is the killer like it’s some big mystery, when they get to it, but they also don’t act like everyone would definitely know it was him. They just slowly show him naturally acting in a way we haven’t typically seen, and then, once it’s clearly implied that he’s the killer, let us see him doing killer-y things. I really appreciated how they did that. 

37F. The assistant guy’s apartment has an absurd amount of unused/unopened tape in it. Just stacks of the stuff everywhere. It’s such a weird design choice by the show. I mean, it’s not like the guy uses it in the commission of his crimes or anything. He just needed the one roll for hanging his idolatry collage over the windows and tying up Hae-e. Sure, it’s a weird thing for him to have, but it’s not weird with any kind of purpose. It’s not even all that unsettling. 

37G. It took waaaaaaaaaaay too long for him to go after Ms. Nam. Conveniently long, I might even say. 

37H. For a show that contains a dangers man kidnapping, assaulting, and killing folks, there’s a noticeable lack of ANYONE CALLING OUT FOR HELP when they are in danger. I get that it’s not always easy to think rationally when these unexpected and terrifying things pop up, but…come on, no one? Not a single person? Really?

37I. And then he just kills himself. ‘Cus…sure. And then let’s not talk about it or why any of it happened. 

37J. And I’m so happy Hae-e is totally fine. I guess her coma took care of any undue psychological trauma she probably should have suffered. The human mind sure is impressive. 

38. Speaking of Hae-e (sort of): absolutely f*** those cops who assumed she tried to commit suicide by jumping in front of a car. Talk about lazy. And tactless. I know it’s a plot contrivance to push Sun-jae to confess that he’s the one who (inadvertently-ish) cheated, but…still. You know I can’t tolerate flagrant corruption. 

39. Is it weird that Ms. Nam and Hae-e have the same last name? Like, if they’re passing her off as Ms. Nam’s daughter, she’d typically have a different name, wouldn’t she? I mean, it’s not impossible, given the commonness of Korean last names, that Ms. Nam would have married a Mr. Nam, but…I dunno. it just hit me towards the end of the show that they had the same last name, and no one seemed thrown by that at all. 

40. Speaking of (sorta): the show is really smooth about periodically reminding us that Ms. Nam’s cover story is that she’s married. It’s the same kind of subtlety with which it handled the killer reveal. They just quietly keep this fact in the fore so that you can figure out for yourself that Mr. Choi is holding back because he thinks he’s in love with a married woman. 

41. The whole thing about Hae-e wanting to move to Japan with her biological mother is a weird story beat to close out the series with. I mean, they just got off an arc where Hae-e was kidnapped and a murderer revealed in their midsts. And then they decide the wrapup climax should be…a generic family drama plot? I mean, they were really just filling time until they could roll out the fun “happy endings for all” coda, but…this is what they came up with? Such a weird choice. 

And that, as they say, is that. 

Overall, I’d say…a good show, though mostly because the clumsily combined disparate parts were—with the exception of the high school stuff—solid enough in isolation for me to walk away feeling good. 

Plus Su-a. 

I make no apologies. 

—Daryl