3
2
Salatheel
Missed the pocket by a mile
There are mild spoilers in this review, but nothing that will spoil the story.
I promise, I gave up on watching romcoms. I really did. But this was a romance drama and I’ve seen some good ones of those. “Lighter and Princess” for instance wasn’t half bad (even though a friend of mine dubbed it lighter and ashtray— you know who you are…) but I’m afraid this one really didn’t make the cut. So if you are going to feel sensitive about a beloved actor, then this review will probably rile you up and is best passed over. Spend your day happily elsewhere. We all have different opinions and I’ve explained my serious reasons, albeit in a somewhat flippant tone.
I’m not a great fan of the standard tsundere type. “We can talk to each other any time if we have anything to say.” Actual quote from Ep 15, albeit in translation. I sort of hope that it lost something in the process there. To me, someone who can’t talk about what they feel is a bit of a red flag. And the way he stared at her at the start was really creepy stalker stuff. Later he makes life changing decisions which he doesn’t discusses with her and she’s the last to know. The character simply wasn’t my type. But putting that aside, Leo Wu did a good job with Lin Yi Yang, and the chemistry was visible in his face right from the start.
But out of what did all this romance spring? There was no witty dialogue going on, no flirtation to lighten the mood. Love seemed to conveniently blossom out of thin air. Followed by a lot on him chasing her, and her pushing him away whilst being pouty petulant. Did the writers actually know why they “fell in love”? It sort of didn’t seem like they did.
Ok, setting the why question aside, and to be fair, I’ve fallen in love for no reason I could explain to myself. To start off with, the romance was pretty cute. It ticked all the standard boxes, as well as all the cliché boxes and all the stating the obvious boxes and a whole bunch of the cringe boxes. It’s really the only reason to watch the drama at all, and you will just about get it in real time, inching inexorably forward, through every tiny nuance. But that’s Chinese romance drama so if I don’t like it, I should just stfu and not watch it! (There, said it for you.) There’s a lot of defensive play nestling up against the cushions and the occasional escaping from an impossible snooker, but they ping around the table and drop the 9-ball without going in off. After about eight episodes I’m kinda over it but I hung in there. Then they really start straying into a sort of toxic, sacrificial relationship dynamic where A (him) relentlessly does everything for B (her), and she takes it all and doesn’t seem to do anything much in return except sleep a lot and cry prettily. Romantic? More Red Flag waving as far as I was concerned.
Which leads me into Yin Guo’s character (Zhao Jin Mai). Take a pound of sugar, some marshmallows and a handful of pink and fluffy with a great big dollop of childish sulky, petulance and a large spoonful of wet weekend; stir constantly for 30 episodes and it should come out pretty much the same as it went in. Really, couldn’t they have written a little bit of an edge in there somewhere. She was supposed to be a competitive sportswoman with an ice queen attitude in her games. I’m afraid that was wishful thinking, ‘cause nowhere did I actually find any believable link between those two supposed sides of her. There’s an internal stillness and concentration that is present in any professional sportsperson, that is born of single-mindedness and dedication, and I just couldn’t see that in Zhao Jin Mai’s eyes or in her character. Leo Wu made a much more convincing job of lining himself up down the cue.
The thing that actually was pretty glacial was the pacing. If you remove the PP from each episode in Helsinki, you’re left with about 5 minutes of real action. I like slow paced dramas but you really have to plumb the character depth to make them work. Unfortunately, here, character exploration was limited to squirming, shyness and ludicrous amounts of hesitancy for at least the first eight episodes. They needed way more variations in dynamics in their relationship to make it interesting and engaging.
There were a lot of characters who just seemed to hang around like loose red balls after the break, getting in the way of a clear view of the black. Not at all enough plot to go round for sooooo many characters. They could have cut the acting budget by half with very little effort and no-one would have noticed. And what is that first rule of writing? — never introduce a character without a well defined and clear purpose. Take Meng Xiao Dong (Wang Xing Yue) for instance and his maybe/maybe-not relationship. It was hinted at and never really explored or resolved so why was it there at all? And it wasn’t like they were short of time.
The lack of any real plot or serious character development meant that the forward momentum was sadly lacking and it became tedious and boring, with each episode pretty much indistinguishable from the previous one.
My final beef is Lin Yi Yang crying poor and it turns out “all” he has is 55,000 US$ and ownership of a billiard hall. Give me strength, I’m lmao at this point. It’s like crying poor because you can’t afford your annual holiday in San Tropez. What planet are people on? Definitely not mine, I’m telling you that. It’s a complete misuse of the word and an absolute insult to a whole world of people who struggle to live their lives and support their families with three less noughts in their bank accounts.
If you enjoyed Road Home, then you will find this a slight step up. The production values in this one were actually reasonable. It was well lit and in focus!
I promise, I gave up on watching romcoms. I really did. But this was a romance drama and I’ve seen some good ones of those. “Lighter and Princess” for instance wasn’t half bad (even though a friend of mine dubbed it lighter and ashtray— you know who you are…) but I’m afraid this one really didn’t make the cut. So if you are going to feel sensitive about a beloved actor, then this review will probably rile you up and is best passed over. Spend your day happily elsewhere. We all have different opinions and I’ve explained my serious reasons, albeit in a somewhat flippant tone.
I’m not a great fan of the standard tsundere type. “We can talk to each other any time if we have anything to say.” Actual quote from Ep 15, albeit in translation. I sort of hope that it lost something in the process there. To me, someone who can’t talk about what they feel is a bit of a red flag. And the way he stared at her at the start was really creepy stalker stuff. Later he makes life changing decisions which he doesn’t discusses with her and she’s the last to know. The character simply wasn’t my type. But putting that aside, Leo Wu did a good job with Lin Yi Yang, and the chemistry was visible in his face right from the start.
But out of what did all this romance spring? There was no witty dialogue going on, no flirtation to lighten the mood. Love seemed to conveniently blossom out of thin air. Followed by a lot on him chasing her, and her pushing him away whilst being pouty petulant. Did the writers actually know why they “fell in love”? It sort of didn’t seem like they did.
Ok, setting the why question aside, and to be fair, I’ve fallen in love for no reason I could explain to myself. To start off with, the romance was pretty cute. It ticked all the standard boxes, as well as all the cliché boxes and all the stating the obvious boxes and a whole bunch of the cringe boxes. It’s really the only reason to watch the drama at all, and you will just about get it in real time, inching inexorably forward, through every tiny nuance. But that’s Chinese romance drama so if I don’t like it, I should just stfu and not watch it! (There, said it for you.) There’s a lot of defensive play nestling up against the cushions and the occasional escaping from an impossible snooker, but they ping around the table and drop the 9-ball without going in off. After about eight episodes I’m kinda over it but I hung in there. Then they really start straying into a sort of toxic, sacrificial relationship dynamic where A (him) relentlessly does everything for B (her), and she takes it all and doesn’t seem to do anything much in return except sleep a lot and cry prettily. Romantic? More Red Flag waving as far as I was concerned.
Which leads me into Yin Guo’s character (Zhao Jin Mai). Take a pound of sugar, some marshmallows and a handful of pink and fluffy with a great big dollop of childish sulky, petulance and a large spoonful of wet weekend; stir constantly for 30 episodes and it should come out pretty much the same as it went in. Really, couldn’t they have written a little bit of an edge in there somewhere. She was supposed to be a competitive sportswoman with an ice queen attitude in her games. I’m afraid that was wishful thinking, ‘cause nowhere did I actually find any believable link between those two supposed sides of her. There’s an internal stillness and concentration that is present in any professional sportsperson, that is born of single-mindedness and dedication, and I just couldn’t see that in Zhao Jin Mai’s eyes or in her character. Leo Wu made a much more convincing job of lining himself up down the cue.
The thing that actually was pretty glacial was the pacing. If you remove the PP from each episode in Helsinki, you’re left with about 5 minutes of real action. I like slow paced dramas but you really have to plumb the character depth to make them work. Unfortunately, here, character exploration was limited to squirming, shyness and ludicrous amounts of hesitancy for at least the first eight episodes. They needed way more variations in dynamics in their relationship to make it interesting and engaging.
There were a lot of characters who just seemed to hang around like loose red balls after the break, getting in the way of a clear view of the black. Not at all enough plot to go round for sooooo many characters. They could have cut the acting budget by half with very little effort and no-one would have noticed. And what is that first rule of writing? — never introduce a character without a well defined and clear purpose. Take Meng Xiao Dong (Wang Xing Yue) for instance and his maybe/maybe-not relationship. It was hinted at and never really explored or resolved so why was it there at all? And it wasn’t like they were short of time.
The lack of any real plot or serious character development meant that the forward momentum was sadly lacking and it became tedious and boring, with each episode pretty much indistinguishable from the previous one.
My final beef is Lin Yi Yang crying poor and it turns out “all” he has is 55,000 US$ and ownership of a billiard hall. Give me strength, I’m lmao at this point. It’s like crying poor because you can’t afford your annual holiday in San Tropez. What planet are people on? Definitely not mine, I’m telling you that. It’s a complete misuse of the word and an absolute insult to a whole world of people who struggle to live their lives and support their families with three less noughts in their bank accounts.
If you enjoyed Road Home, then you will find this a slight step up. The production values in this one were actually reasonable. It was well lit and in focus!
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