A Tag Analysis: Romance in K-Dramas - Conclusion
One of the best shows of 2018, Come and Hug Me not only delivered a compelling story, but it was a visual masterpiece as well. But before we examine its stunning art direction, let’s briefly go over the premise of the show.
[Author's Notes: this is a little off-topic, but I wanted to add this somewhere. Now that I watched the show for a second time, I understand some of the complaints about the pacing and why some may have even put this on hold D:. I had the pleasure of watching Come and Hug Me while it aired, so my pacing was controlled --which means I wasn't bothered by the pacing or felt that the drama dragged. This second viewing, however, made it clear that this isn't a binge-watchable drama. The story deals with a heavy subject, add to that the slow pace and the moments of silence... and you have a recipe for getting depressed. Watching too much in a short period of time can have an impact on your emotions, so pacing yourself is crucial if you want to enjoy this drama. I recommend watching an episode or two per day, with other lighter shows in between episodes to create balance. Just my two cents.]
"She’s the one... my father stole everything from. I must ask forgiveness for the remainder of my days for something I didn’t do."
[Nah Moo, episode 10]
The scenes above do a pretty good job of encapsulating the plot. Come and Hug Me is, first and foremost, a tale of hurt and comfort. It’s a beautiful love story laced with quiet but excruciatingly heavy pain. And when I say love story, I’m not just talking about the relationship between our main leads, but also the love that extends outwards forming familial bonds that show that water can be as thick or even thicker than blood sometimes.
Ultimately, however, this is Nah Moo’s story. Nah Moo, a quiet boy who grows up in an almost claustrophobic house, under the reign of a father whose idea of “love” equals domination and control. One day Nah Moo, who had kept mostly to himself, meets Nak Won, a girl from a vastly different world. One full of nourishment, warmth, and optimism. She shines as bright as the sun and Nah Moo can’t help but fall in love with her.
Unfortunately, Yoon Hui Jae, his father, would have none of it. He tries to put a stop to their story, hoping to destroy everything that would threaten to weaken his son. But what should be the end of the story is only the beginning. Her, who lost her world to Hui Jae’s wrath. Him, who tore his world to stop his father and must now atone for Hui Jae’s sins. Two lovers torn apart by fate, kept away by society, but who, eventually, find each other again.
From this point on, I’ll mostly be examining the art direction of Come and Hug Me. And I say mostly because there’s a bonus section at the end of the article where I analyze how a certain support character was built to be more compelling and, therefore, stole the show.
For those who have seen the drama and loved it, this article might increase your appreciation. For those who saw the drama and didn’t understand what the fuss was all about, perhaps this will provide some answers. Although I’ll try to avoid spoilers as much as possible, some examples or explanations might give away things. So for those who haven’t seen the drama, but are still curious to read this article, proceed at your own risk.
In my review of the show, I called this a masterpiece because I was impressed by how it established a solid visual concept, then developed and consistently followed it throughout. At its heart, the concept isn’t anything new. In fact, it’s the classic struggle of light vs dark, good vs evil, purity vs corruption... Though I’ve seen this formula countless times before, I admit I’ve rarely seen it woven with such minute attention to detail, let alone perfected with sophisticated visual poetry.
Come and Hug Me may deal with the fight between light and darkness, but it’s the blank slate slammed in the middle that’s the focus of the story. Meaning, this is the story about a man caught between two opposing worlds.
One world is pure, warm, beautiful and happy. It’s a world where love is selfless, giving and full of compassion. This world is represented by Gil Nak Won and it’s even referred to as “paradise” by Nah Moo very early on in the series.
The other world is represented by Yoon Hui Jae. This world is corrupt, cold, lonely and suppressed. It’s a world where “love” is selfish, possessive and used as a means of control. This world always feels oppressive, suffocating and overbearing.
Nah Moo is the man caught in the middle. Raised by one, but inspired by the other, he stands in the dividing line. With a foot in each world, his wavering paves the ground for the development of his internal struggle: what he thinks he deserves vs what he wants.
Hui Jae's world is the cage, he was raised in. Nah Moo never had an inclination to try to escape the cage because that was the only thing he knew. In his head, he may have even believed that’s where he belonged.
Until he discovered Nak Won's world. This is a world that calls to him but never pressures him, leaving instead an open invitation. It’s a world that he yearns for but which he’s afraid to taint by venturing inside. In his mind, he is undeserving of such warmth.
And speaking of warmth, notice the huge role the light’s temperature plays in establishing a mood. Cold light (blues and greens) is used for Hui Jae’s scenes because it helps to create a hostile and lonely environment. Warm light (yellows and oranges), is used for Nak Won's scenes because it helps to create a warm and cozy environment.
In fact, take a look at the edited shots below. Notice how different the mood changes just by altering the light’s temperature. The space that used to feel oppressive now looks quite nice, doesn’t it?
When you watch the show, pay attention to what’s being fed to us through sheer color. When Nah Moo –who constantly shift between both worlds-- is feeling lonely, the light’s temperature drops. When he’s happy, relaxed, thinking about Nak Won or when he's with her, the light’s temperature rises. Let’s look at two examples of different shots within a single scene.
The use of light to build a mood is a basic technique used in films, photos, illustrations, and TV. You’ll be hard pressed to find a thriller, sci-fi or horror film that doesn’t use cold filters, for example. Or a fantasy, romance or family-oriented film that doesn’t use warm filters.
Sometimes the shift in light happens smoothly, within a single shot. Let's look at some examples. In the right one with Yoon Hui Jae, notice how quickly he goes from warm to cold, adding visual weight to the scene.
But if you think that’s the only neat trick the series uses, then think again. We’ve only touched the surface. Now, we’re now about to delve into the true depth of the show’s visual poetry. I want to take a moment to stress again that some of the shots/images I’ll be using might give away some plot points, so keep that in mind if you decide to proceed.
The drama uses metaphors as a way to visually represent the main leads throughout the narrative. Once you know what to look for, you’ll appreciate the attention to detail this show maintains, which speaks volumes of the art director’s mastery over visual storytelling.
We’ve already established that Hui Jae’s world is dark and cold. But what you may not have consciously noticed is that he’s also symbolized by cages, grates and enclosed spaces. As if the writer wanted us to pay special attention to those details, we’re even given quotes to emphasize Yoon Hui Jae’s fascination with cages, such as:
"We’re the same. Humans are animals who prey on each other. This world is a huge cage where humans are locked up in. The weak won't last. Only the strong survive. In this cage-like world, that's the only way to survive."
[Yoon Hui Jae to Nah Moo, episode 3]
So how is this metaphor implemented in a way that fits and support the narrative without being too obvious? Well, let’s take a look.
The graphic above shows one example of the metaphor in use. Whenever Hui Jae’s presence encroaches on the lives of the rest of the characters, the camera frames them behind bars, railings or cages. This creates a sense that the characters are trapped. And most times the narrative supports the idea that they have been, essentially, stripped of their sense of peace or freedom, which is another –and perhaps an even crueler-- way of holding someone prisoner.
Even Hui Jae’s minions aren’t spared. The lower right corner features Yeom Ji Hong trapped, arguably even tighter – almost claustrophobically so. In this scene, the cage suggests Ji Hong is under Hui Jae’s complete psychological control. After all, what are his minions, if not well-trained dogs? The fact that he’s shown caged, small and obscure, also implies what is later made clear… that Hui Jae sees him as weak and dispensable.
"Just because I’m in here… doesn’t mean I can’t do anything."
[Hui Jae to Ok Hee, episode 19]
Another interesting way characters are caged is by confining them into a small box through framing and the use of foreground objects and/or structures. Notice in the examples above how small and fragile the characters are rendered. The use of cold light and filters pull the characters into Hui Jae’s world. A place that’s sad, frightening and ominous.
Even isolated and without context, it’s clear who the characters are thinking about. The one in the left lower corner is especially telling since Hui Jae’s face even peeps in through a blurred out TV screen.
"Anything built incorrectly… must be demolished so it can be built again."
[Hui Jae to Ok Hee, episode 27]
The graphic above shows the most subtle and sophisticated way characters are caged. In the upper shots, we see a cage formed by shadows, raising even more ominously than any example before.
I especially love the first one, because Nah Moo is placed directly on top of the grate (trapped by the shadows) and then further confined by the railings to either side. The full version on the left is even more striking, composition-wise. Because it also shows an important separation between him and Nak Won, who sits one floor below, crouched down while a huge tree peeks in. Nah Moo, like the tree, seems to be watching over her.
The lower two examples are much more subtle and, as such, are open to interpretation. To me, they seem precise, so I regard them as less of a coincidence and more of a choice. On the left side, Nak Won had just received an unexpected and unpleasant gift. The shock weakens her, so she grabs onto the closest thing which so happens to be a cold, metal, grate-patterned chair. We get a close up on her hand grabbing onto it, before quickly letting go and as she sinks to the floor. It’s a smooth but deliberate shot, where Nak Won (the light) may have touched darkness (Hui Jae), but refused to hold onto it.
The one on the right shows Chae So Jin (Nah Moo’s adoptive sister) walking as a railing looms ominously behind her. If you’ve seen the scene, you know she never touches or gets close to that “cage”. Her role in the story is very similar to Nak Won, where she’s a source of light to both Hyeon Moo and, to a lesser extent, Nah Moo (I’ll be covering this point in the bonus section at the end of the article). However, by opening the scene with that shot, we’re subconsciously bracing ourselves for something bad to happen. After all, cages symbolize Hui Jae’s presence, right?
Now that we’ve covered Hui Jae, let’s take a look at the character that stands directly in opposition to him.
"To me, you’re like… a true paradise. That’s why I like you too. I like you, Nak Won."
[Nah Moo to Nak Won, episode 5]
Just like with Hui Jae, it gets established early on, both within the script and the art direction, that Gil Nak Won is a source of light and warmth. She’s everything that’s pure, beautiful and loving. And those qualities are at the center of her character. Which means, she never goes against her nature. Or, to be more accurate, she can’t go against her nature because if she did the metaphor would no longer work.
Nak Won, like Hui Jae, is pretty simple. They both work as a symbol rather than a complex character. Which means that their metaphor --the personification of goodness for Nak Won and the personification of evil for Hui Jae-- is preserved at the cost of character growth and realism. So if you felt you couldn't connect with them or thought they lacked dimension, you'd be right.
But let’s get back to what this article is about and take a look at the different ways her metaphor is implemented.
"In times like that, come to me. When the pain is too much to bear, come to me, Nah Moo. Whatever the situation and whatever else happens, I’ll like you ‘till the day I die."
[Nak Won to Nah Moo, episode 1]
For more than a third of the series, Nah Moo finds solace or respite in pictures of Nak Won --which are either well-lit or literally lit. In most cases, Nah Moo is alone, surrounded by darkness with Nak Won shining as the only source of light. Regardless of whether it's night or day, the light is warm, creating a sense of peace.
Nah Moo not only seeks this source of light, but he gravitates towards her like a moth, bathing in her warmth and finding comfort. This further drives home that she is, essentially, Nah Moo's paradise; a place to recover when the pain has become too heavy a burden to bear alone.
"The moment we touched, it was as if the world turned glorious. The times before I met her... where no longer part of my memory."
[Nah Moo thinking about Nak Won, episode 3]
Because Nak Won represents all that’s good, she’s usually surrounded by warm light. In fact, if you’ve watched the drama, you’ll notice that she also wears bright or light colored clothing. The only time she doesn't is when the situation demands it (during funerals). Light colors are perfect for bouncing off the light, so that helps to make her look even brighter and more ethereal. The effect is enhanced if whoever’s with her is wearing darker clothing.
In fact, take a look at the graphic below. Here I’m showing a cropped up version of two shots from different scenes side by side (episodes 2 & 3). They happen in the same place at a slightly different time, but both within the same day. Nah Moo’s scene looks darker and more ominous because it’s been shot with a lower temperature than Nak Won’s scene.
At this point, the umbrellas seem to be a wink at us because if we consider the psychology of color, pink is the color of love and encompasses everything that’s sweet, feminine, cute and soft. And if we take a close look at Nak Won’s characters, those are traits she possesses.
On the other hand, Nah Moo is holding a blue umbrella. Blue is a sincere, reserved and quiet color. It represents people who don’t want to attract too much attention, but who also radiate security and trust. There’s a reason why cops’ uniforms are blue. Blue is the color of safety. Again, if we look at Nah Moo’s character, you’ll find a lot of those traits weaved into his personality.
"Listen, Nah Moo, let’s take a little rest. It doesn’t matter what people say let’s stop being apologetic. Let’s pretend that we’re okay. Let’s get some rest that way. Okay?"
[Nak Won to Nah Moo, episode 19]
All in all, Nak Won is treated as the existence that lights Nah Moo’s world. She’s the one guiding and inviting him over to her world as well as the one keeping him from venturing too deep into Hui Jae's world. This is shown in the way they're always bathed in warm light whenever they're together; establishing that there’s hope for a better tomorrow.
Unlike Hui Jae who's always in darkness and Nak Won who’s always surrounded by light, when Nah Moo is separated from Nak Won, his scenes can range from warm to cold. Reminding us that he has one foot in each world. Which leads us to examine his metaphor.
Nothing represents change and growth, like a tree or a plant… and that’s exactly why using that as a metaphor for Nah Moo is so successful. Again, we even get a quote very early on informing us that his name not only means genuine tree, but that’s exactly how people around him see him as:
"Nah Moo, I feel like you’re a genuine tree, just like your name. That’s why I like you. Because you’re like a real tree."
[Nak Won to Nah Moo, episode 3]
Out of the three leads, Nah Moo gets the most complex metaphor. One that doesn’t confine him to a side, but which allows him room to wiggle and move between both sides. And why should that be surprising? This is, after all, his story.
Nah Moo, the boy who'd been striving to survive in the cold world of his father, under constant oppression and darkness. But who, as soon as he found sunlight, began to grow into a man. He grew resilient enough to withstand the storm that was his father and, at the same time, to grab onto the things he held dear. Then he grew tall enough to outgrow his father and healthy enough to protect those he loved. And as the story unfolds, we see him become strong enough to atone for his father’s sins and step out from under his shadow.
But the strength of the tree or plant depends on the environment he's growing in. For that reason, Nah Moo isn't immune to outside influence. It is essentially his interactions with others that determine the kind of man he will become.
The graphic above perfectly illustrates this point. On the left, we see him leave Nak Won’s home after spending time with her and her family. The Sakura trees are in full bloom, beautiful, well-lit and healthy. This is the first time he’s probably seen a home and not just a house. On the right, we see him trudging on towards his house. Notice how the trees have changed. They no longer look bright, healthy or welcoming. Now they look devoid of life, withering and sharp enough to draw blood.
"Nah Moo. From now on, if you ever feel guilty because you’re with me, just say sorry. Whenever you feel apologetic, I’ll tell you that’s fine. I’ll tell you that’s completely okay… and that I like you too. I’ll tell you over and over again. I like you, Nah Moo. I like you a lot."
[Nak Won to Nah Moo, episode 21]
But as complex as the metaphor may be, you know what they say… a tree will always move towards the light. So at the end of the day, Nah Moo still follows a natural script, which means he doesn't get that much character growth either.
"Psychopathic tendencies are not hereditary. Even if we’re this cold… it’s not contagious, like a cold."
[Nah Moo to an ignorant person, episode 1]
The graphic above shows a few examples of Nah Moo being framed by trees or plants. Sometimes those plants mirror his state of mind. Examine the two upper screenshots, for example.
Nah Moo may be having a hard time, but he stands strong, firm and unbending. On the left side, he’s surrounded by hostile people, the families of his father’s victims clamoring for his blood. Yet Nah Moo is quiet and serene. He is choosing not to retaliate, rather than letting things happen. And there’s a difference. Because by choosing to stay calm, you get the feeling that, like the trees around him, he’s capable of weathering this storm.
On the right side (full shot on the left) we see him staring at a broken camera on the floor, the broken bits a mirror of his innermost feelings.
The shot is especially poetic because the trees seem to reach out to him, cocooning him from the outside world. His pain is internal, quiet and private and the way he’s boxed in shows how isolated he feels from the world.
The lower examples make use a recurrent visual cue throughout the first half of the drama: the Sakura tree (aka Cherry Blossom). This tree is prominent whenever Nah Moo and Nak Won share a scene. How could it not? That is the representation of them together, of beauty and nature entwined. The Sakura tree is beautiful when it blooms, but it does so for a very short time, which symbolizes the fragility of life; beautiful, but short.
It’s no wonder we get the Sakura tree only during the first portion of the story if we consider the time skips. The flashbacks deal with the time twelve years ago, when Nah Moo and Nak Won met as kids. Almost every interaction between them features one or more Sakura trees, which later symbolize their beautiful but tragically short time together.
Nine years later, our two star-crossed lovers meet again by chance. And, like before, their meeting is beautiful but short, with a Sakura tree prominently featured when they separate, going as far as to mirror their first meeting.
Three years later they meet again, but this time, there aren’t any Sakura trees decorating their meetings. And it makes sense since they won’t be pulled apart again.
"It’s too hard for me. You told me to come to you when it gets too stressful and draining, right? It’s too hard for me. It hurts seeing you, but when I try not to, I feel like I’ll go crazy."
[Nah Moo to Nak Won, episode 21]
Another way the metaphor is used is by framing him with a small plant or tree, which sometimes seem in sync with his mental or emotional state. Having a plant absorbing light next to Nah Moo’s sleeping form, for example, can symbolize he’s restoring his energies. Or having a plant stand straight and strong next to him as he’s ambling out of the hospital can tell us that he’s not out of the fight yet. Small pots next to him as he looks yearningly at families having a great time out the window, can subtly show that he’s feeling small and fragile. And so on.
Perhaps the most subtle, but powerful way in which this metaphor was implemented, was on those few but definitely impactful occasions in which Nah Moo became a tree. These four shots stood out to me.
In the left upper one, we see Nah Moo shielding Nak Won as she sleeps, creating a space for her to rest under. With the other three, the framing makes Nah Moo part of a tree. The left lower one and the right upper one are especially telling. Photography 101 tells you to always keep your eye on the surroundings when photographic subjects outside. You should avoid having a tree trunk "come out” of your subject’s head, for example. Here, however, the shot deliberately merges Nah Moo with the tree behind him.
When you consider the context of those scenes, the decision makes even more sense. In both, Nah Moo stands firm, strong and powerful. He faces the situation head-on, externalizing his inner strength.
"Do I have to wait long? The situation isn’t dire. Attend first to those who require urgent care. If I don’t hear you when you call, could you wake me up?"
[Wounded Nah Moo to hospital’s nurse, episode 12]
This quote makes note of how low Nah Moo’s sense of self-worth has become as a result of his father’s actions. Like a tree, he’s there to shield other people, even if he ends up broken himself. This is a key trait of his character and one which makes him venture into Hui Jae’s world. If he must break his body into kindling so someone can be spared the cold, he won’t hesitate to do it.
Of course, not because there are three metaphors does it mean that they can’t all work together in a single frame, scene or shot. There’s plenty of examples in which two or even all of them are present, each combining or colliding against each other. We’ve already seen several examples, but let’s take a look at a few others.
This one’s simple, but, though we’ve already addressed it, you may not have noticed how many times Hui Jae physically blocks the light during a scene. It not only makes him look more ominous, but it also speaks about how he’s in direct opposition to Nak Won, who usually brings in light and warmth. Just think about the example we covered regarding the hospital room. When Nak Won was sleeping in the bed next to Nah Moo, the light was warm. Same thing with the other example, when she visits Nah Moo at his work and the light becomes warm.
Sometimes, all elements are present within a shot, hinting at how intertwined the three leads’ lives are. In the upper left corner, we see Hui Jae represented by the hammer lying in the foreground. Then in the background, we see a plant bathed in light. The careful framing of those elements enhances the unfolding scene, in which Nak Won is embracing and taking care of a wounded Nah Moo.
Below that shot, we see Nak Won confined by Hui Jae’s presence. But if you examine the space where she's at, you'll see there’s a candle and a cactus nearby. And cacti, it’s worth noting, are the most resilient plants and could easily serve as a metaphor for both Nak Won and Nah Moo.
On the upper right corner, we see Hui Jae represented by the rusty door. Beside it, in stark contrast, we see a Sakura tree which represents Nak Won and Nah Moo’s relationship during the first half of the show. The entire shot makes us wonder if that beauty can withstand the decay coming its way.
Last but not least, we have Nak Won in her house. I love this shot and the composition of the house. The first time I saw it, I was mesmerized by the idea of having a tree right inside. However, once I started to consider it was a metaphor for Nah Moo, it made sense that it was so prominent.
There’s a lot going on in this shot. Not only do we have the tree, but hanging from its branches, we see two cages. Additionally, we see lamps all around, lighting the room. Apart from that, the tree is separating Nak Won, who survived Hui Jae, from the pictures of her parents, who are no longer there with her. In the next section, I’ll show how they built a subtle subtext with this framing through mirroring.
Although I'd only planned on covering the metaphors to keep this article from getting too long, I still wanted to briefly cover one of the things I love the most: mirroring events.
Come and Hug Me goes a step further by not only mirroring events, but complementing them with visuals. That shows there was careful construction of the mirrors rather than coincidentally pulling them off. I’ve already shown a few mirroring events, but let’s take a look at a few more.
The examples above deal with a mirror of events across time, showing us that the feelings between our leads never changed. On the left, we get a mirror between the first and second time skips. So there are three years of separation between them. The right side mirrors the first time skip. So there are nine years of separation between those scenes. And even if the lower one happens in Nah Moo’s head, there’s still a visual connection to the time he confessed his feelings to Nak Won. In fact, the Sakura tree’s branch seems to reach out and touch Nak Won, doesn't it?
We also have mirrors that take place within a small interval of time, which can be days or a few weeks. The left set happens after the first time skip, where they have yet to reunite after parting as kids. The right set takes place during the second time skip after they reunited for the last time.
What I love about the right set, is how everything is built to culminate into a scene of true acceptance over the tragedy that happened. The upper shot we discussed before. The lower shot is still the same as the above with the only difference being that Nah Moo has replaced Nak Won. However, everything else stands. You have the tree, the light, and the cages. You also have Nah Moo separated from his father’s victims. Except that since Nah Moo is represented by the tree, we get an additional line to keep both him and the tree on the other side. But as the drama unfolds, we eventually get this gem:
This becomes the conclusion of that set. Where both Nah Moo and Nak Won stand with her parents, having made peace with what happened. It’s a beautiful shot that suggests they have found peace together in Nak Won’s world.
This next type of mirroring involves balance. Showing that there’s a "give and take" relationship between the characters. We see them taking turns to hold and care for one another. Both switching between the one who protects and the one who's protected. (BTW, this is one of my favorite types of mirrors when it comes to relationships).
Another fantastic mirror was achieved between characters. This example shows the amazing interactions between Gil Moo Won and Yoon Hyeon Moo. Both older brothers of the main protagonists, fighting on either side to protect their younger sisters. One a prosecutor, the other a criminal; Moo Won and Hyeon Moo had some of the best scenes for sure.
And while I'm on the subject of Hyeon Moo, let us move into the bonus section of this article.
If I haven’t lost you yet, I thank you for your patience and hope this is a worthy payoff. This section won’t deal with the show’s visual artistry. Instead, it’s a small character analysis for one of the most compelling characters of the show, Yoon Hyeon Moo. Because you can’t talk about this show without raving about this man right here.
I never thought I'd say this regarding a character that stole my heart, but Yoon Hyeon Moo truly benefited from being a supporting character. What do I mean by this? Well, by not tying him to a metaphor like with our leads, Hyeon Moo was written and treated as a highly complex character. Which means he not only had the most growth, but also the most compelling arc of the show.
Let's take a look at the reasons why Yoon Hyeon Moo may have played with our heartstrings a lot more than any other character did (though Ok Hee was a close second).
Like his brother, Hyeon Moo was raised in a cold world, under the heavy mantle of his father’s twisted idea of love. But while Nah Moo became a man caught between two worlds, Hyeon Moo is a man lost in limbo. Nah Moo knows where each world is and is able to shift between them. Hyeon Moo can’t seem to find his footing in either. As a result, he stumbles about, searching for a place to belong.
"You should come see me more often. And bring our little princess. I also miss… Nah Moo."
[Hui Jae to Ok Hee, episode 19]
Just examine what Hui Jae tells Ok Hee. He wants to see his wife and daughter (with whom he doesn't share a drop of blood) more often. He also includes Nah Moo, who sent him to jail. But Hyeon Moo doesn't even get mentioned... like he doesn't exist at all.
And even fully aware that his father’s world is a cruel place, Hyeon Moo still craves it. How could he not when he believes that's the only world that could accept him?
So when Hui Jae ingrained the “eat or be eaten” mentality, it sets Hyeon Moo down a dark and spiraling path, causing him to spend most of his formative years behind bars and under the influence of his father. His reward? Being compared to his brother only to be found lacking. No matter how much Hyeon Moo tried to meet his father’s expectations, he never could. No matter how much he sought his father’s approval, he never earned it. Hyeon Moo's honesty was mocked, and his earnestness was treated as a sign of weakness. So how could he not end up becoming a man with a twisted sense of self and moral values?
"I know you don't want to be with my awful family. But you can't just take Nah Moo away alone. That's not going to happen. Didn't you see this coming when you treated him like a son? ... I'm just saying you need to be fair. You should let go of all of them (us). You can't just take Nah Moo alone. "
[Hyeon Moo to Ok Hee, episode 16]
However, hidden and suppressed, there was a part of him kindled by his adoptive mother, Ok Hee, and his adoptive sister, Soh Jin. They created another world, but it was one he was not only unaccustomed to but felt uninvited to as well. He sees Nah Moo walk into that world like it's nothing; like it's natural. Yet he flounders about like a fish out of water, unable to understand, let alone give voice to the struggle exploding inside.
Yet no matter how much he clung to his fake bravado and tough guy act, Ok Hee and Soh Jin created a place he fervently wished to be a part of… but would giving in to those emotions constitute as weakness? If he asked to join them, would he get rejected? Would that warm world, even accept him?
"In my imagination, I also have to disappear... "
[Hyeon Moo, episode 27]
And it's this battle between what he thinks he deserves and what he truly wants which consistently guides his actions and paves the way for his character's growth. There’s a reason why, no matter how much he fights them, he ends up seeking both his mom and sister again and again.
It’s the same reason that makes him hurry to their side when he thinks they're in danger and show through actions that he cares for them deeply. The same reason why he chooses to get hurt in their stead, yet demands nothing of them. In fact, he goes as far as to push them away, afraid of tainting them and extinguishing their light. The same reason why a small gesture of affection freezes him on the spot and fills him with emotion. How could anyone love him when he himself has never learned to love himself? How could anyone accept him, when the more he looks for strength, the weaker he feels?
"You don’t care much about me anyhow. Nah Moo kisses up to you and calls you mother. You only care about him. He’s smart and he listens to you. As for me…? Nobody cares about me. It’s all right. You’re not the first. Other ahjummas were also like that."
[Hyeon Moo to Ok Hee, episode 3]
Hyeon Moo reaches out to them while wearing a cracking mask of toughness, carved out by his father's idea of "love". But as soon as Ok Hee and Soh Jin --and even Nah Moo -- try to get close, he pulls away. Afraid of getting hurt, afraid of looking weak and afraid of wanting more. And no matter how much time passes, Hyeon Moo remains the same scared and explosive kid, trying to get someone... anyone to notice his pain and hold him. The phrase "come and hug me" isn't a request or a challenge when it comes from him, but a heartbreaking plea.
And this emotional rollercoaster is what sets his story apart from Nah Moo's and, in my opinion, makes it a lot more compelling.
It's the fact that while Nah Moo shows courage in the face of danger, Hyeon Moo faces that danger courageously despite how scared he is. And there's a difference.
Because while Nah Moo is in control of his emotions, Hyeon Moo is controlled by his.
That's not to say Nah Moo is cold, because he's not. But he's more controlled. He feels pain, but even when he cries he does so quietly, softly and almost beautiful. In contrast, Hyeon Moo's emotions are loud and chaotic. His fear is almost palpable and he looks like he's on the verge of tears in every scene. Nah Moo is a soft guy who is actually tough. Hyeon Moo is a tough guy who is actually soft.
Unlike his younger brother, Hyeon Moo doesn’t choose when to embrace his father’s side or when to beg for his mother’s world. He is equal amounts explosive and sentimental. He's an infant when it comes to emotional intelligence –or lack thereof. And how could he not?
Nah Moo spent twelve years building a home with Ok Hee and Soh Jin, learning to be happy and getting to be a child. Hyeon Moo spent that time trapped behind bars, still trying to find a way to survive in his father’s world and unable to crawl out from under his ever-growing shadow.
"Those who are hardest to love, need it the most."
[Socrates]
It's therefore not surprising that once he’s out of jail, Hyeon Moo feels lost and stranded in a place that doesn’t care about him. A place where his brother has found happiness while he, Hyeon Moo, is left in the dust. Constantly compared by both parents to his brother and getting the short end of the stick, Hyeon Moo lives alone, with nobody waiting for him or worrying about him (or so he believes). He stumbles in the dark, hoping for a place to belong, getting into fights with those around him in hopes they would realize… that all he wants is to be accepted.
"Why, even once, didn’t you look at me? … You meant the world to me. Is it true? Did I mean nothing to you?"
[Hyeon Moo to Hui Jae, episode 27]
The reason why Hyeon Moo’s story is more emotional and compelling than Nah Moo’s is very simple. Nah Moo is the hero. He's in control of his emotions, has a vast network of support, has people to protect and to be protected by, has found a purpose (to stop criminals) and a way to atone, has grown stronger and had twelve years to outgrow his father and be defined by his own actions.
Hyeon Moo has no one. He's alone, stranded and purposeless. He’s broken. Part of him may even believe he's beyond repair, yet he still reaches out, begging for comfort. His struggle is as difficult as it is inspiring. He's a character that’s in so much pain, it tugs at our heartstrings because we can sympathize with his plight. Hyeon Moo is a contradicting and therefore complex character. A man who refuses to believe anyone would ever love him, who thinks he's worthless... yet who still puts himself out there.
Nah Moo may be the hero, but Hyeon Moo is the underdog.
And here's the thing... if I had to choose between rooting for a hero or rooting for an underdog, I would pick the latter hands down no hesitation. And that's where Hyeon Moo finally gets to beat his brother.
I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments down below. Here are some questions to get a conversation started:
- Have you watched the drama yet? If so, did you like it? If you didn't, did this article changed your mind at all? Which was your favorite character? Are you team Nah Moo or Hyeon Moo or neither?
- If you haven't watched the drama, are you considering it now?
- Did you like this article? Was it too long? Would you like to read more articles that deal with visual storytelling/art direction?
- Did you like the short character analysis of Hyeon Moo? Would you be interested to read more analysis like this? Do you agree with my analysis or disagree?
- Are there other shows that display mastery over visual storytelling you can recommend?
