How K-Dramas Do Romance, Continued (+ New Project Announcement!)
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| Image description: A promotional image for the Korean drama, Alchemy of Souls, a historical fantasy drama and one I will be discussing a lot in today's post. Just a few months ago, I discussed why I love how K-Dramas portray romance, and I'm back at it again with even more reasons why I find these portrayals so refreshing - and so important. |
Since becoming a K-Drama fan, I’ve been delighted to experience
various TV series and movies that subvert the “typical” Western expectations,
all while telling amazing stories. As I continue to fall even deeper down that
K-Drama rabbit hole, I continue to be impressed by the ways in which these shows do
things I just can’t find anywhere else, and I continue to use them as both my
safe space and my main source of terrific storytelling. As such, I have an
absolute ton of thoughts about what makes these dramas special, and I feel as
though I’ve only just begun to share them. Today, I’d like to go even deeper
into this topic of K-Drama romance and continue to highlight how these strengths
have aspec-friendly elements to them that keep me coming back for more.
In addition to that, please read until the end of the post –
I have something else up my sleeve as well and am very excited to share that
project as I slowly but surely get it off the ground! I hope that you enjoy
this analysis and that, if you do, you might consider joining me on this new
venture as well.
Trust and
Understanding Are Attractive
Something that has always baffled me about “typical” romance
is the idea that only certain things can be seen as “attractive.” The
idea of homogenizing this is silly; as an aspec person, I can very obviously
attest to the fact that not everyone even experiences attraction in the first
place, but even beyond aspec identities, there is no way to have these things
be “one size fits all.” Different people are attracted to different things, so the
idea that everyone will find a concept universally attractive makes no sense.
Even so, there are a few standard things that are usually used as shorthand in
romances to bring us onboard with a character being seen as “attractive” and in
turn, these things are then used to show why a romance with them makes sense.
However, this doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing
because not all elements of attraction have to be based on things shallow or
superficial. In fact, they can be based on great personality elements or mutual
conditions of life, and I think this is where many K-Drama romances really
shine. For instance, something I’ve noticed from a lot of the best K-Drama pairings
is that, as their relationship develops organically, so too do the concepts of
trust, understanding, and acceptance. These things are then shown as essential
to the romance blossoming in the first place. Not only do I find this to be
good storytelling, but in a way, it fits nicely with certain aspec identities;
I can imagine some demisexual and/or demiromantic people, for instance, finding
appeal in this, since those identities only experience attraction once a deep
bond has formed.
Additionally, one of my favorite things about portraying trust and understanding as attractive qualities is that it means characters don’t need to be shoved into overtly romantic or even sexual situations in order to be seen as having a true love connection. Sure, K-Dramas with romance often have big, dramatic kiss scenes when a romance comes to fruition; but as I alluded to in my previous post on the subject, K-Drama kisses are secondary in my mind to the wonderfulness of K-Drama hugs, or other moments of gentle affection like holding hands or resting heads on shoulders. Rather than physical gestures, it’s the little things that make these romances special – and indeed, it’s the moments where they build trust and understanding that carry the most weight.
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| Image description: Once again I am up in my feels about how terrific K-Drama hugs are, this time showcasing one of the many fantastic hugs between the romantic leads in Alchemy of Souls. |
A great example of all these points can be found in Alchemy of Souls, a historical fantasy drama centered on the titular forbidden magic, which allows people to swap souls with another person. At the beginning of the series, a feared magical assassin who goes by the moniker Naksu transfers her soul into the body of a frail young woman. Now without her powers, she teams up with a young man named Jang Uk, who longs for someone who will train him in the magical ways that have been denied to him. In exchange for keeping her secret safe, Naksu (who is now known as Mu-deok) agrees to teach Uk, and soon the pair find themselves unraveling deadly secrets and falling in love in the process. This love develops naturally over the course of the show, and develops based on the exact emotions I’ve discussed in this section. In fact, Naksu/Mu-deok herself alludes to this very thing in episode ten when she notes, “What Uk and I share was the desperate feeling of survival, and the earnestness of finding ourselves.”
The relationship between Uk and Naksu is one of my absolute
favorites (in K-Drama and in general), and this is because of the facts this
line mentions. The two characters fit each other so well because they
understand each other so well. They both want to survive and thrive. They both
want to find themselves. And they both want to be understood for who and what
they are at their core, not what other people say they are. These elements are
beautiful, and they exist at the heart of many great K-Drama romances. Many
times, these relationships are allowed to start at a place of misunderstanding so
that the characters can come to understand each other later. These characters
are allowed to have flaws and to grow so they can be with each other on mutual
footing, and I think that’s a wonderful thing.
The Dismantling
of Bad Tropes
So many of the K-Drama that I’ve watched prove a basic point
I’ve made many times before: that tropes don’t have to be inherently bad, especially
romance tropes. Romance tropes can sometimes be the most pernicious, since they're supposed to be played up for romance or romantic tension. For instance, I usually despise love triangles in Western media, especially because they tend to dominate an entire
story and the entire plot of the three characters involved. Additionally, I
hate the fact that most love triangles only end when the third character – the
one who is not part of the romance – is somehow tarnished or otherwise made
unsuitable by circumstances (see: The Hunger Games series). However, it doesn't have to be that way, and like everything else we’ve been discussing thus far, I’ve seen more than one
K-Drama where these problematic concepts are largely sidestepped.
For instance, in the time-travel sci-fi drama Sisyphus,
the main couple is Han Tae-sul and Gang Seo-hae, but there’s a third character
who falls for Seo-hae – Jae-sun (also known as just Sun), the first person she
meets when she travels from the future. I absolutely love Sun, and I love that
the show lets me love him, rather than try to tarnish him for the sake of
making Tae-sul look better. Rather, Sun is brave, self-sacrificing, and generous,
and I really appreciate that both men who hope to gain Seo-hae’s affections even
work together at times; Tae-sul even goes out of his way to make sure Sun is safe
as the plot unfolds. Additionally, Sun is never shown to feel negatively
towards Seo-hae for not wanting to be with him. It’s actually the opposite, as
he expresses repeated gratitude towards her for all the help she’s given him
during their brief acquaintance.
Obviously, Sun would gladly be with Seo-hae if she
reciprocated his feelings, and it’s clear he continues to have feelings for her
throughout the series; but rather than act like he’s owed her affections, he’s
more predominantly concerned with her well-being, fearful that Tae-sul’s
actions will cause harm to come to her. And, all things considered, it’s not an
unreasonable belief to have. Even though Seo-hae can very clearly take care of
herself, she never rebuffs Sun for these concerns, and appreciates and cares
for him even if she doesn’t reciprocate his romantic feelings. A lesser show
could have made the dynamic between these three characters very toxic, but to
me, the fact that Sisyphus doesn’t do that – and in fact goes to great
lengths to establish the opposite – speaks to the strength of its writing.
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| Image description: Jae-sun from Sisyphus. He may not be the romantic lead, but he is an amazing character, and one I absolutely love. |
While they both technically love Naksu’s soul, the
circumstances are very different, and even when Yul begins to suspect Naksu’s
soul is in the body of the girl he knows as Mu-deok, it’s a completely
different dynamic than most love triangles would normally be. Much like Sun
with Seo-hae in Sisyphus, it’s clear Yul would gladly be with
Naksu/Mu-deok if she wanted him, or at the very least he wishes he would have
confessed his feelings to her rather than hide them. But this love triangle
becomes even more poignant since Yul and Uk are such good friends, and as such
he respects and cares for Uk to the point of not wanting to hurt him. Neither
Yul or Uk are treated as the bad guy; in fact, Yul’s past with Naksu is framed
as rather sad and his feelings for her are portrayed no less tenderly than
Uk’s. Even when the show creates drama for the triangle, it never tarnishes Yul
and, much like Sun, I love him as a character.
Something I find unfortunate about rejection storylines is
they can be portrayed in ways that are sad, but that also assign blame. A lot
of media tends to have characters who have been rejected be belligerent, hostile,
or standoffish, and while I’m certainly not expecting that they should automatically
be fine, this encourages the audience to pity the person who was rejected while
also side-eyeing the person who did the rejecting. But in K-Dramas, these
situations are allowed to be sad or poignant in ways that aren’t tied to
disliking the other person. For instance, Yul’s past with Naksu is sad, and him
not getting to be with her in the present is sad too; it’s a tragic instance of
lost love and circumstances and the past having to stay the past. But it’s
allowed to be sad without demonizing Naksu/Mu-deok or Uk. It’s allowed to exist
without making Yul seem toxic, clingy, or entitled. Simply put, it’s a moving
and poignant story for everyone involved.
I also find it noteworthy that the dramas I’ve referenced
here don’t necessarily solve the love triangle issue by giving the odd person
out their own love interest to sort of deflect their interest in the member of
the main pairing. Rather, these characters tend to remain unattached by the end
of the show, leaving it open to interpretation what they do next. This room for
interpretation is one of my favorite aspects of K-Dramas because it doesn’t
force every situation to end in or be fixed through romance alone, which
I believe actually values the concept more highly than the assumption that a new
romance is the automatic solution to these emotions. I’ll go a step further and
say I feel this helps to obliterate many of media’s most pernicious tropes.
Ambiguity Done
Well
Recently, I did a post about how ambiguity in media can
become frustrating and how it sometimes goes off the rails. But something I
love about ambiguity is when it leaves space for positive creative energy and
thought-provoking analysis about a story and its characters. Just like
ambiguity can become frustrating if done poorly, I also find myself frustrated
with the opposite too – media that feels the need to shove its audience into a
certain desired direction, eliminating any chance for alternate interpretation
or conceptualization of the story. But many K-Dramas manage to walk the line between
these two extremes and tell better stories as a result. For instance, as I
discussed previously, there are many dramas whose vague and non-traditional
endings leave room for interpretation and to illustrate that point, I’d like to
highlight a few more, such as fantasy drama Hotel Del Luna. (Spoilers!)
The show stars pop princess IU as Jang Man-wol, the owner of
the eponymous hotel, which is a place where wayward spirits find their rest.
Man-wol has been tied to the hotel for hundreds of years, atoning for sins she
made during her life as a warrior seeking vengeance, but these days, she spends
her time drinking and spending money, apathetic to most things around her. That
is, until the day when the hotel receives its new mortal human manager, a young
man named Gu Chan-sung. The two are drawn to each other over the course of the
show, but this presents enormous problems, as Man-wol will someday no longer be
tied to the hotel and will depart the land of the living. Therefore, if the two
form a relationship, by its very nature it will be temporary and end in tragedy,
as it does in the final episode of the series.
However, the show’s ending is an interesting one, and one
that I believe can be left open to viewer interpretation. In the show’s final
scene, the main ghosts who staffed the hotel – including Man-wol – are all
in a beautiful park together, and Chan-sung is with them. He and Man-Wol being
together in that moment leaves us with the question: Is it a dream or reality? Is
it another life or just what he imagines? There is no correct answer and it’s
clearly left up to audience interpretation, but it shows us that this
relationship mattered and was important, and that the love of these two
characters can still endure. It’s not a happy ending per se, but we aren’t
being spoon-fed a conclusion. Instead, we’re allowed to draw our own in a way
that I find quite satisfying.
Perhaps one of my favorite examples of this can be found in the
tremendous drama Signal, a police procedural with a supernatural twist,
centering on a criminal profiler named Park Hae-young who begins communicating via
walkie-talkie with Detective Lee Jae-han, who exists fifteen years in the past.
Together, they use the information they can give one another to solve –
and even prevent – cold cases, watching things slowly change as they do so.
Eventually, their successes lead to the present-day formation of a cold case
squad, the team of which includes Hae-young, as well as female detective, Cha
Soo-hyun, who was Detective Lee’s protégé fifteen years ago and fell in love
with him during that time. She has spent fifteen years trying to investigate his
disappearance with no luck, but with the discovery of the walkie-talkie and the
changing present as Detective Lee and Hae-young work together, suddenly the
chance to find him is very real.
Over the course of the series, it becomes clear that Detective
Lee might be saved in the past if certain actions are undertaken, and indeed,
the series ends (Spoilers!) with the revelation that he is, in fact, alive. However, the final
episode ends merely by showing us Detective Lee is alive before Hae-young can
meet the man he’s been working with or Detective Cha can be reunited with her lost love. As such, we are left to imagine what would happen next, rather than have
it explicitly shown to us, and while some viewers might find that frustrating,
I personally find it brilliant. When we experience a good story, we’re going on
an emotional journey with the characters, looking at one part of their life
rather than its totality, which is part of why happily ever afters can
sometimes bother me. Instead, these K-Dramas let us experience part of the
story and give us hope of a good future outcome, but they let us get there on
our own.
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| Image description: A promotional image for Signal, showing Hae-young and Detective Cha interacting with Detective Lee in the past, as is true of so much of the show. This show is not only an example of a non-traditional romantic ending, but given Detective Cha in the present has waited for Detective Lee for so many years, they're also a good example of my next point. |
Couples of
Various Ages
Sometimes in romantic media, there’s an emphasis on “young
love.” This can be for any number of reasons, but sometimes it feels like media
just wants to focus on the messy drama of young (often conventionally
attractive) people finding romance and usually sex for the first time. However,
I’ve noticed that many K-Drama romantic leads are in their thirties or forties, and that couples of various ages exist, sometimes even within the same piece of
media. Again, Alchemy of Souls is a great example of this. Although the
main couple and many other characters are in their twenties, there are also
examples of adult love stories, such as that of Maidservant Kim and Park Jin,
both of whom are portrayed by actors in their late forties/early fifties. Their
relationship, although taking place in middle age, is no less valuable than the
“young” relationships; additionally, both characters have been allowed to
remain unattached until they’ve found their true desired partner, which makes
their romance feel like something they want rather than something they’ve been
forced to do.
Romances that take place when both parties are more mature allow
these characters to build meaningful lives that aren’t entirely dependent on
romance. Rather than have romance be the singular focus of their existence, it’s
just one part of an otherwise full life that usually includes a career,
friends, hobbies and interests, etc. Again, this makes romance feel like
something these characters have decided they want in their life by choice
rather than by necessity, and for this reason, love stories where both partners
are in their thirties or forties are actually some of my favorites.
Another great thing about portraying slightly older couples is that it cements the idea that committed relationships don’t have to be boring. Obviously, as an AroAce person, I can attest to the fact that marriage or other committed relationships aren’t the norm for everyone; it’s also perfectly fine if someone prefers casual relationships over these types of committed ones. However, sometimes media treats long-standing committed relationships as not nearly as interesting as early romance or casual sexual relationships, which I think is an oversight, one that many K-Dramas manage to sidestep. In general, K-Drama love stories just tend to do love better for people of all ages, allowing young romances and mature romances alike to have weight, depth, and respect attached to them, while also showing that romance alone doesn't have to be the only thing in a story that's interesting or meaningful.
Families of All
Kinds
I think one of the most special things about watching
K-Dramas as an asexual geek is, for me, the fact that romance is actually
completely optional in many of these stories. For instance, Korean films such
as Parasite, Train to Busan, Space Sweepers, and more do not have any
romance in their plots, but rather focus on telling fascinating stories. This
is also true of shows like Squid Game, The Silent Sea, or Hellbound,
which I’ve discussed in the past as well as being noteworthy for having
extremely little sex and virtually no romance in them whatsoever. Again, these
shows focus on their plots and on other emotional connections in ways I’ve found
extremely refreshing. Some of them may even choose to dive deeper into other
relationships like friends, familial bonds, or parent-child relationships.
Now, I am admittedly of two minds when it comes to
portraying parent/child relationships in media. On the one hand, I appreciate
and enjoy it when media portrays these relationships as being a form of true love, rather
than implying that only romance can fulfill that role; in a world where
amatonormativity (the societal pressure to make romance a priority in one’s
life) is rampant, redefinitions like this can be very helpful. But on the other
hand, I think media sometimes assumes that all people must experience
certain life metrics like getting married, having children, etc. and that those
who don’t have these things are automatically missing out on something, which
is of course not necessarily true.
What is the way to combat this problem? I believe the trick
is to portray families of all kinds, especially because it’s also common to see
media and society in general sometimes conflate “family” with “spouse and children,” which again, isn’t automatically true. By showing that
family can mean various things to various people, you portray different kinds
of love in ways that aren’t limiting or trope-filled, and this is something
K-Dramas excel at. I discussed this briefly in my previous K-Drama romances
post, where I pointed out that the “marriage and children” angle isn’t required
for many couples to get their “happy ending,” and again, I think the idea of
diverse families helps aid that.
Rather than a family always looking the same, K-Drama
families that are by choice or circumstance are in no way treated as invalid. I’ve
watched dozens of K-Dramas, and not once have I seen a character’s friend
groups devalued as not meaningful when compared to a romance, nor have I seen a
love story portrayed as less meaningful because it didn’t include children.
Rather, K-Drama families can be parents and their children, or it can be
siblings taking care of one another, or it can be co-workers, friends, or just
a romantic pair by themselves. It can be found family, it can be a caregiver
who cares for someone as if they were their own child, it can be mentors and
mentees, it can be a team of people working together for a common goal.
Lately, I’ve found myself especially disgruntled by the
societal notion that only romance is love or that only romance can bring true
meaning to a person’s life. Unfortunately, for all the strides we’ve made over
the years, that attitude still sadly exists. But many of my favorite K-Dramas
give me hope that it doesn’t necessarily have to be this way, and that great
stories exist where it isn’t. Part of what makes K-Drama romances amazing is
that they don’t subsume everything and they aren’t treated as the rule; rather,
they are just one way of expressing love and telling a good story, and they
respect the other things that exist both in stories and in life. If I could
hope for anything, it would be that more media learns from this example – or,
if not, that K-Dramas themselves can become the media rule and not the media
exception.
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| Image description: This image contains two things that are true - I'd definitely rather be watching K-Dramas, and I am indeed an asexual K-Drama geek. Please keep reading for a special announcement of how I'm making both of those things come together! |
And so, I’ve decided to do it more and do it in its own
dedicated space, a sister blog to this blog, which I am calling The Asexual K-Drama Geek! My main blog will continue to function just like it normally does
with no interruptions, but on my off-weeks (so, on the Fridays when I don’t
post on here), I’ll be posting reviews, thoughts, analysis, and more about my
favorite K-Dramas over on the new blog. As a sex-repulsed AroAce, I think I
have a unique perspective when it comes to the phenomenon that is K-Dramas, and
I’d like to share that perspective with even more people. A lot of people have
fallen in love with K-Dramas because of their quality, but I’d like to
highlight and showcase the elements of K-Dramas that maybe some people don’t
realize, celebrating the things they do so well for an aspec person like me and
why they make me feel like I can fall in love with TV and movies again.
To kick things off over there, I’ll actually be reposting
the first “How K-Dramas Do Romance” post, and will then slowly work my way
through reviewing the dramas I’ve seen thus far (and believe me, there are a
lot). In those reviews, I plan to discuss the shows in general and discuss how
I react to them as an aspec person, discussing the things that make them
aspec-friendly or not from my own personal lens. It will be
a place that isn’t quite so analysis heavy as The Asexual Geek, and I hope it
provides a fun look at some of my favorite media on the side while I continue my regular work here. Additionally, I plan to launch a Twitter for both of
these blogs under the umbrella of The Asexual Geek in the hopes of bringing
aspec analysis to even wider audiences. This has me very nervous, so please
bear with me as I get everything off the ground.
As always, though, I will be here every other Friday with my
usual musings on aspec life and representation in media, whatever form it takes.
I look forward to these new projects and hope that some of you might enjoy them
too! Thank you for reading and thank you, as always, for your support!
With platonic love,
The Asexual Geek
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