It’s Always the Quiet Ones: When the Weather is Fine and A Piece of Your Mind
There is a beautiful scene in When the Weather is Fine where a young boy carries a large beetle to proudly shows to his mother. In the midst of her chores and carrying a new baby on her back, she stops everything to look at what he is offering. She gently asks him about what he is showing her and thanks him for sharing something so precious with her. She then brags to her baby daughter about how lucky she is to have received his “gift”. While many mothers may have found the presentation of a large bug rather shocking, she is flattered by her son’s interest in sharing a part of himself with her. He never says a word during a whole scene but a slight smile forms on his face at her reaction which communicates a deep understanding between the characters. What is shown is a character who is deeply loved despite his inscrutability and strangeness, which is something that everyone wants….to be accepted and adored because of their idiosyncracies not despite them. This quiet moment shows an understanding between the two that is obvious, impactful and deeply touching. In an age of social media, pandemic panic and reactionary politics, there are few dramas that allow the viewer to appreciate quietness, solitude and introspection…let alone find ones that champion these characteristics and use them as narrative devices. So, I was surprised to find two dramas of the quiet persuasion released in February and March of this year: When the Weather is Nice (JTBC) and A Piece of Your Mind (tvN).
I am not going to lie to you, I was not going to watch Weather but since I had just started my blog and it contained a major star (Park Min-young), I decided to give it a shot. I knew nothing about the story but it was a JTBC production, so I was in. As a Jung Hae-in fan, it was Piece that I was really looking forward to. The show’s promises were opaque but it seemed to focus on individuals struggling to find intimacy in their personal lives and I so love peering in on fumbling fools in love! After watching both dramas for a few weeks, I chose to combine my reviews because these shows embrace a somber pace under the backdrop of an emotionally charged mystery. Once again, what I anticipated was the complete opposite of reality. The calm and careful storytelling that Weather so gracefully exuded was equal only to the frustrating and uncomfortable chronicle that Piece spun week after week. I came to the conclusion that one drama really understood the depth and perspective that quiet tones and aesthetics can offer whereas the other basically took a dump on these opportunities.
When the Weather is Fine promotional poster (courtesy of Wikipedia)
Since last year, I have observed an emphasis on big budget “flash” in Korean dramas. Shows like Vagabond, Arthdal Chronicles, The King: Eternal Monarch and even Crash Landing On You have presented an ornate storytelling that includes large casts and epic plots amid tons of action. The “flash” phenomenon is seductive as it can lift the profile of dramas, actors, and directors as well as the networks and studios. Yet, while these dramas may look beautiful and compel film actors to return to the small screen (a global trend at present); these bells and whistles may not generate the intricate and well-plotted storytelling that has set Korean dramas apart from their competition. Poor or confusing storytelling can be cited as a main reason for the low ratings of Arthdal or the initial (and somewhat negative) audience feedback for The King: Eternal Monarch. Moreover, a popular drama like Vagabond received relatively modest reviews when compared to Itaewon Class or The World of the Married despite sharing the same time slot. Flash can generate a lot of resources but the trade-off is that it requires substantive resources to execute.
Quieter, more straightforward dramas with consistent and affable characters can be infinitely more enjoyable when performed well. This does not mean that they will be “successful” in the ratings though (take JTBC’s Melo Is My Nature which was one of the best dramas I have seen and never broke a 2% viewership rating). Smaller and quieter drama almost seem to be a riskier undertaking because they may be labelled as boring character studies that rely too heavily on melodrama. Yet, there are many quiet dramas that have achieved critical and commercial recognition. For instance, When the Camellias Bloom (2019 KBS2), starring Gong Hyo-jin and Kang Ha-neul had a relatively small cast, but each character had a role that was given depth and purpose. The well-plotted story and character development helped create viewer investment in a sophisticated murder mystery because they could understand the entanglement of the character’s lives and histories. The enjoyment of Camellias (and the ones I am reviewing today) is derived from the details and not from the spectacle.
Quiet dramas are difficult to pull off. Let me use a sporting analogy to explain what I mean (probably the first and last time this will ever happen). As a teen, I was a member of a figure skating precision team with about 15 other girls my age. These teams often default to flashy programs, costumes and make-up and their numbers were generally defined by gusto and smiles. Yet, I remember participating in a competition once where a team did their entire program to “Amazing Grace.” As I watched my coach take in the performance, I complained how boring and silly it was to choose this song. She rebuffed my claim by stating that it was far more difficult to pull off a slow song than a high energy performance…especially with an ensemble. After this, I then observed how the rest of the audience was glued to their program. Maybe it was the song recognition that had taken them in but as I watched their remaining performance, I realized that they made difficult moves seem very simple to match the steadiness of the music. This required charismatic and dynamic teamwork. They didn’t win (probably because they were overshadowed by the faster teams) but nearly 25 year later, I still remember that routine. I don’t even remember the name of my own team who I competed with! Songs, dramas or books that use quieter and slower tones leave the content, ideas or characters with nowhere to hide. Everything is laid bare. Employing quietness and slowness as techniques, which are often mistaken for “simplistic” or “boring”, are actually exceedingly arduous to execute. Quiet leaves lots of spaces to fill. Quiet leaves no room for excuses. Quiet requires complexity.
In this review, I will summarize some of the qualities (but not all) that make a quiet drama enjoyable and watchable. Then I will analyze what happens when these tenets are forsaken. Firstly, the drama must feature imperfect but sympathetic characters. This means that archetypes should be kept to a minimum. Secondly, the writers must trust their audience’s intelligence and curiosity by engaging in a slow reveal of the mystery or plot.
The quiet mystery of family trauma….(courtesy of Soompi)
A good way to gauge the value of a drama is if you can describe the plot in 1-3 sentences. This will determine its consistency and accessibility to the audience. So, I decided to try it.
When the Weather is Fine is about a young woman who struggled with living in Seoul and decides to return to her aunt’s home in a small town for an extended visit. Upon her return, she is reunited with her neighbour, a quiet bookstore owner that she barely knows and who has been in love with her (without her knowledge) since high school.
This is all revealed in the first two episodes. The plot is pretty straightforward but it raises important questions about why she lived with her aunt? Why she didn’t know her neighbour? Why she left Seoul? All legitimate curiosities that are revealed and reconciled as the drama matures. Yet, it doesn’t lose sight of or deviate from these main plot points and the underlying curiosity about the future of this love story is never ignored.
And then, next:
A Piece of Your Mind centers on a computer genius who is developing a human-technological interface for counselling purposes. He manipulates a sound engineer (through his much older niece) into recording his long-time crush’s voice so he can “figure her out better” without having to engage with her face-to-face. Unbeknownst to computer genius, the niece and the sound engineer, his crush’s husband (yes, you read that right) records at the recording studio that they all use/own. When the “crush” perishes abroad, the sound engineer develops a crush computer genius and helps him “awaken” his technology and comfort him in a time of pain. And the husband has a terrible secret that is directly related to the computer genius which is why his crush has been avoiding him!
This sounds more like Tiger King plot than a muted Monday-Tuesday drama. And I feel this description barely scratches the surface of all the things this drama is trying to accomplish. There is no logical connection between the characters other than the setting and where tenuous bonds are formed, they are (sometimes) coercive. The confusion that this drama produces could be partially attributed to the fact that after episode 6, Piece was pre-empted by 4 episodes due to low ratings. This would have left less time to wrap up the supplementary plot points.
Nonetheless, the last six episodes contained a lot of filler (ie. musical montages of wistful and sad glances) that could have been used to patch up some of these stories better.
Yep. The plot is as creepy as this poster (courtesy of tvN)
A Quiet Drama has Imperfect but Sympathetic Characters
Quiet dramas can offer complexity in the development of their characters, which allows for annoying or frustrating traits to make the characters seem more realistic, likeable or at least, redeemable. Piece, however, made the fatal error of using archetypes (and the worst one of all) to move the story along: the manic pixie dream girl. Nathan Rabin described this sexist underpinning of this archetype because it “exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries”(qted in Schwyzer 2013). These characters always have this fairly-like quality that suggests that they are hiding some profound knowledge of the world, something they are only willing to share with a chosen few. The male protagonist often gets to simultaneously save and be saved as his dream girl is usually a broken mess as well. In Piece, the object of affection for the male lead, Moon Ha-won (played by Jung Hae-in), is an ethereal and naïve quiet talker who likes to stare at ceiling shadows, take black and white photos and recite poetry from bridges. Her name is Kim Ji-soo (played by Park Ju-hyun) and these three syllables get burned into the viewer’s memory predominantly because Ha-won uses her name in nearly every scene and circumstance, even using it to automate his home (obsess much?!) and awaken his money-making technologies. Ji-soo’s character is such a stereotype that it almost offends me. She is without occupation (although at one point, we see her as the page turner for her concert pianist husband!) and barely exists beyond a figment of someone’s memory or fantasy (even when she is alive).
Ha-won suffers from insomnia due to a history of trauma that partially emanates from his mother’s death. He is also seemingly haunted by Kim Ji-soo’s rejection (because she is married to someone else!). These traumas are highlighted as a means to make him a “sympathetic” character. Yet, his obsession with his past love in the first few episodes borders on the uncomfortable and the disturbing. Moreover, his dismissive personality is presented as a consequence of workaholism and his alienation is explained by his brilliance as opposed to what I observe is his petty narcissism and emotional immaturity. His character is only a slight deviation from the classic chaebol archetype (and a kind of sadder and scarier one). We are also asked to sympathize with him due to his benevolent intentions for his technology. And rightly so! I think a pushy, manipulative stalker who has a real problem with boundaries, both interpersonal and ethical, is a perfect candidate for developing interactive counselling ipods to care for those struggling with mental health issues. Thanks Piece!
It pains me to write these things about Jung Hae-in because I think he is one of the most talented actors working right now. I say this despite almost always disliking the characters he chooses. If a drama or film needs a try-hard snob that has no sense of humour and a pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps attitude, then he’s your man. Truly. Yet, while his characters are annoying (except for Tune In for Love and One Spring Night where he is great!), as an actor he is undeniably consistent and smart. When I am watching a drama like Piece that threatens to go off the rails every other second (such as him grasping at nothing in some sort of unholy dream sequence), I feel reassured that he’ll respond to the insane plot in a measured and realistic way. He is no ham and while his emotional connection with the audience is reserved, it always has great depth. His performance is good despite his character being rather contemptible.
When Kim Ji-soo dies (in a common snow crushing accident in Norway?!), the drama’s female lead Han Seo-woo (played by Chae Soo-bin) immediately becomes the patron saint of manic pixie dream girls. Her job in a creative field is used as evidence of her sensitive soul and makes her the waifish technology whisperer the Ha-won needs in his time of grief. Unlike his ongoing obsession with a now deceased person, Seo-woo becomes obsessed with Ha-won (aka Mr. Dawn). She follows him around trying to help him work out his feelings for the woman he really loves, while being sold out by the ipod that now carries Kim Ji-Soo’s consciousness that seemingly revels in Seo-woo’s one-sided love for Ha-won. Despite Seo-woo’s embarrassment, Ha-won insists she continue to talk about it in front of him….so he continue to hear Ji-soo voice? Yeah. That happened. I did not make this up. So, if you think that this character and plot seem a bit pathetic, then you’re right!
Dogged by trauma surrounding the death of her parents and combating constant rejection…from basically everyone she lives and works with, Seo-woo has little that defines her character outside her devotion to Ha-won that stems from, by her own admission, feelings pity for him. Romantic! The use of these archetypes makes it difficult to really care about either of the main players and their feelings.
Kim Ji-soo just Kim Ji-sooing….. (courtesy of Kpopmap)
When I was first introduced to When the Weather is Fine, I was worried that Park Min-young (who plays Mok Hae-won) would play the role of a manic pixie dream girl as she portrays a lost and beautiful cello player escaping the general malaise of Seoul for some small town healing. Nonetheless, Hae-won is portrayed as a consistent outsider and a complicated one. In the flashbacks of her youth, she is maligned by many of her classmates (for reasons that are revealed later) while also being portrayed as a popular and talented ulzzang face. While she is an object of attention, her feelings and circumstance are afforded little understanding by those who put her on display. She carries both trauma and resentment from her past but this makes her direct and unwilling to accept apologies if she feels wronged. She is open and honest about her contemplation of suicide as a teen, and in many ways, she lacks mystery (especially in her interactions with Eun-seob) that classic manic pixie dream girls are required to have. She does have a warmth and eagerness to connect with Eun-seob despite her cold upbringing. She is awkward but compassionate to those in her close circle, particularly her high school friends and the members of the Good-Night Bookstore book club. Truth be told, I am not a huge fan of Park Min-young (although she is excellent in Weather, Sungkyunkwan Scandal and Queen for Seven Days), but she holds down the character’s spectacular backstory with an understated ease that enriches the relationships that are featured in this drama.
If anyone was the manic pixie dream girl in Weather, it was Lim Eun-seob, who is played by another “face genius”, Seo Kang-joon. I had never seen him in anything prior to Weather, and nearly two months later, I think I have seen everything he has ever been in. As an actor, Seo Kang-joon is a chameleon, which makes him a very different actor from the consistent Jung Hae-in. Seo’s unpredictable personality allows him to play an individual who is at times frustratingly quiet and domesticated but also a bit unhinged and feral. Yet, he plays this spectrum with such economy. He conveys a lot with a look and sigh, which is so different from his fast-talking role in Cheese In the Trap or his stubborn arrogance in Entourage (oh yeah, I watched everything!). Eun-seob is a complicated figure who enjoys having hallucinations, disappearing for years at a time and going on night hikes to save lost villagers. He is not so much a manic pixie dream boy as a metaphor for the story. Quiet and grounded on the outside but wild and unpredictable upon closer inspection. His loyalty and quiet understanding acquired through observation make him a good partner for Hae-won, who is about to have a dramatic reckoning with her past and who needs a gentle place to land in the present.
Weather’s frumpy King, Lim Eun Seob (courtesy of Soompi)
In summary, both of Weather’s characters are a little mysterious and capricious but I have never seen characters quite like either of them before. The same goes for supporting characters. They are both awkward with each other but are comfortable with the silence. This comfort comes from the portrayal of fully developed and complicated characters. They do not needing to fill in the silent spaces is the hallmark of a good relationship. The spaces in the narrative are filled with their feelings for each other instead of the exposition and sad, heart-breaking glances that dominate the archetypal pairing in Piece.
The Writers Trust the Audience’s Intelligence
The source material for this show is Lee Do-woo’s popular novel, I’ll Come to You When the Weather is Nice uses journal entries and the recitation of poetry to tell the larger story. Using these journal selections over dialogue is a bold choice because it relies on the audience’s interpretive skills. The drama’s pace allowed the viewer some time for introspection and to consider about what was being shown. In not showing everything, viewer curiosity is increased since the characters histories and motivations are more obscure. These qualities denote a trust in the audience’s intelligence. Finding out about the mysterious back stories of the two leads is one of the true pleasures of watching Weather. I liked the feeling of being in the dark for most of the early stages. The first few episodes of the drama seemed to provide more questions than it dared to answer which was helpful in creating healthy audience interest without overwhelming the larger intimacies (or lack of) that the show wanted to highlight. Not knowing what happened in the past made it difficult to understand how the characters would respond to each other in the future. This is a sophisticated take on the “will they…won’t they end up together?” story arc that punctuates this drama.
The drama wanted to emphasize Eun-seob’s close familial relationships in contrast to Hae-won’s very icy one and from these premises, interesting backstories were given permission to unfold in a way that seemed more realistic despite their inherent irrationality. How could two characters with such peculiar and devastating pasts find each other after many years of being neighbours? But their personalities and circumstances make the unreal seem plausible. The quiet and mundane foreground allows for a more unbelievable background. Their backstories are not revealed directly until later in the drama, but introduced through a set of situations that cause the viewer to infer why the characters behave in such as way. For instance, Eun-seob’s mountain rescuing skills is later revealed to be the result of him being raised in the wild by a madman. That kind of thing. Or Hae-won’s ongoing feud with Kim Bo-young or her aunt’s insistence on wearing sunglasses even indoors are plot points used to foreground the circumstances of her aunt’s murder of Hae-won’s father. Hae-won’s unannounced return from Seoul to unexpectedly reunite with Eun-seob demonstrates a modern love story of two people who are very cautious of the present because they carry heavy pasts. And what could resonate with audiences more than the recognition of the baggage we all carry into all our relationships? The exaggerated plot conveys a relatively simple message. One is still worthy of love even when if they’re not “okay.”
Piece is a mystery as well but it is the characters who are kept in the dark as opposed to the audience. The plot is driven by the anticipation and dread of what will happen to Ha-won and his relationships when he finds out “the truth”. This seems like a hackneyed way to generate conflict that is marked by a “big” revelation. And while surprise can work in other dramas (even in Weather!), the mysterious secret that has undermined the lives of five characters is that a young teenager told a lie (during another killer snowstorm in Norway) that happened to indirectly result in the death of Ha-won’s mother. When Kang In-wook tells the story to his wife, Ji-soo, she is riddled with guilt and shame due to her close relationship with the family. This is a story of healing and forgiveness where the most wronged party (Moon Ha-won) lets the most guilty party (Kang In-wook) off the hook for the supposed perpetration of his crime with evidence that his dead wife had forgiven him…just being a sullen teenage.
Yet, what is most interesting about the story is its commentary on guilt. And how the motivation for an individual to unburden oneself of guilt and shame has severe consequences. And that people may resent you for saddling them with your secret shame. That is an interesting story! But it is somehow overshadowed by the normative trope that unconditional understanding forms the cornerstone of true love. Anything less is madness. Okay, I guess? That actually sounds like a recipe for abusive dynamics which this drama demonstrates in droves.
The mystery is moved along by his niece and best friend, Moon Soon-ho (played by an annoying Lee Ha-na) whose the desire to keep the truth for Ha-won is motivated by her newly developed a crush on In-wook (the husband of the now deceased Ji-soo). She just wants the latter to play well at his piano recital! Seo-woo’s hand-wringing about knowing the truth borders on dangerous levels, which also gestures to a long standing trope in Kdramas that keeping secrets generally hurts people even if they are kept as a means to protect someone. Contrast this to Weather where secrets are not kept out of protection but out of loyalty. Some kept secrets make sense because they depend on freedom and punishment while others are released under stress or in a moment of weakness. This feels like a more interesting take on secrets, and therefore, the mystery at the centre of the plot. One of the important choices that Weather made was to leave the intense drama to the side characters (i.e. Hae-won’s mother, aunt and her aunt’s errant partner). The revelation that it was actually her aunt that killed Hae-won’s father as opposed to her mother who was imprisoned for the crime shook the already unstable relationships that the character had with her only living family members. It also explained her aunt’s coldness, isolation and recurring illness that was all a self-inflicted punishment for the crime she believed that she committed which was murder. What she really did was act rashly in a situation that was terribly scary, dangerous and shocking. She was jealous of her sister’s incarceration because it guaranteed her some form of atonement and peace. And her sister (Hae-won’s mother) was provided relief that she had sacrificed her freedom for her sister. These complicated relationships and feelings are all released in quiet conversations that are contrasted with spectacular scenes of domestic abuse. This contrast also mirrors the experience of abuse for many women whose partners are both loving and violent on a regular basis.
The heartbreaking life of a staggering genius…Kang In-wook (courtesy of tvN)
In many ways, the relationship issues that Seo-woo’s matronly boarding house owner had with her live-in tenant/lover would have been a much better main story than the snow crushing traumas because it would have been much simpler and relateable. The side characters could work out the intense guilt/shame/obsession/trauma dynamic and the main characters can learn from their struggle. Despite Piece’s candor with the audience about the mysterious connection between the four main characters and particularly Kang In-wook and Moon Ha-won, there is little trust between the characters or between the drama and the viewer. I did not feel that the writers trusted me to follow the narrative, and therefore, they felt the need to explain everything candidly and earnestly. And I still didn’t get it. It was exhausting and I still didn’t fully understand what I was supposed to learn other than these writers liked to fetishicize forgiveness and conflate it with true love.
Weather on the other hand uses the dramatics of the side characters to affect the rather simple love story between Eun-seob and Hae-won. Will the truth cause her to leave the small town and return to the anonymity of Seoul or will she decide to stay and take up the quiet, yet transparent life of a bookstore owner’s wife? Piece too tacks on a “will they or won’t they?” narrative but it is so short-lived and obvious that they will reunite because neither one of them have anything better to do.
I liked her in this….(JTBC promotional poster)
Final Thoughts and Conclusion
The charm of When the Weather is Nice is its quiet frumpiness. It takes place in a small grey town in the winter where people where big coats and hats and mittens all the time. It lacks the pastel sleekness of Piece. Eun-seob is a super nerd who has never been touched and wears khakis for the entire show. The narrative is well balanced because the frumpiness is mediated by striking visuals from the leads, the aunt and the mothers. Piece is also populated with pretty people (in particular the two leads) and there is an attempt to offset its morbid tone by using a serene palette. While the aesthetics make the drama more watchable, it also makes story seem dreamlike and therefore, unrealistic (and a healthy dose of realism is what this drama is lacking). The aesthetic choices really take the wind out of the emotional sails of the drama. In short, quiet tones call for quiet aesthetics.
In summary, I cannot recommend Piece in any way. Even in its shorter run, I don’t think it is worth it. Whereas I cannot recommend Weather enough. It is slow and there are scenes where you will feel second hand embarrassment as acutely as you will feel the heartfelt sentiment but somehow this contrast seems refreshing. And the pace of the drama gives you time to appreciate the smaller details and delights of everyday life.