Daring, heartbreaking, deliciously complicated – a new (high) standard for sageuks

Won't bore you with the retelling of the plot – the MDL summary does a good job of that, plus many of you have probably heard that the scriptwriter was inspired by archetypes and plot threads from the American Civil War saga Gone With the Wind.

My love for this book was what made me check out the first episode, because, unlike Pride & Prejudice, or say, War & Peace, no-one in recent memory tried to reimagine that sweeping tale of conflict, survival, and strong, larger than life people, too stubborn to admit their true feelings.

Some scenes in My Dearest were indeed lifted from Margaret Mitchell's classic, very close to the text. And I'm grateful for them, because they were the only semi-predictable things in the course of this drama, some very necessary stepping stones into the ocean of unpredictability that followed. Anxiety while waiting for new episodes and whiplash after watching them – yeah, it has been a ride.

I must admit, it's rare when I don't have an idea where the things are going in a piece of literature or a movie, given the amount of things I have read/watched over the years. It is also the only drama in my drama-watching career that made me want to learn Korean, because I see how the actors enjoy reciting their lines and feel that the poetry of the spoken text is slipping through the cracks in the subtitles.

There are flaws in the production, to be sure. Aside from the masterpiece that is the main song, the OST is uneven in its quality.

The breathtaking visuals (I mean, look at the poster – the green field with two leads in yellow and blue is pretty unforgettable) and painstakingly executed shots (like when the main lead is taking out his bloody sword from an enemy's body to have a go at another dozen of enemies, and the sword shines ominously) are often botched by some very rushed (I am being generous here) editing, with close-ups that don't match the medium shots, pieces of conversation, the tenor of which contradicts the previous scene, or a sudden change in the editing axis.

It is also nearly impossible to make sense of the timeline or the distances between different locations in one city or one field. Sometimes it is very hard to guess how the characters got from one place to another, if, for instance, they had one horse for two people. And the characters frequently wear the same clothes and the same hair for a couple of days in a row – or, say, change in the morning, but return to the same outfit in the evening (episode 10, I'm looking at you in utter disbelief).

These things drive my inner perfectionist mad – hence some deductions in the overall score. But story-wise, character-wise, acting-wise, this show is close to perfect.

The story – because it touches upon all the things important to a living and breathing person, starting with romance (the linchpin of the story) and going forward with duty, family, friendship, loss, difficult choices, perseverance, hope, loss of thereof, you name it.

The characters – because they are wonderfully three-dimensional and complicated, like real people. The leads are similar and different at the same, tough as nails, but with a tofu heart. They do what they want, make things happen, and command respect and jealousy from people around. Because they are in different stages of their lives and their love to each other (a new and frightening experience for both of them, too), each conversation is a frustrating battle of wits; they throw cruel words at each other like it's nothing and show profound vulnerability a second after. This never-ending alchemical process prevents them from being together – or staying apart for long, unless the distance is more than a few quarters in the same city.

It's a very frustrating watch, and you feel for both of them, but you kind of don't have any notes to give to improve the situation. If only they talked more, not only about feelings, but about the general context of each other lives, or at least spend time observing each other in everyday situations, outside the cycle of breaking apart with anger and reuniting with cute... I presume we must get this in Part 2, because Part 1 was excruciatingly angsty... and all those misunderstandings and lack of communication are, in my opinion, are only slightly above the tried-and-true noble idiocy trope.

(And yes, Ahn Eun-jin and Namgoong Min totally kill their roles. They play off each other splendidly, equally, with loving abandon.)

What I liked most, though, is that all characters in this drama are equally complicated. A mild-mannered lady who faints at the sight of blood may like her drink and pranks. A cynic “I've seen it all, and I'm not naive like you” servant may find himself in a long-lasting love with a girl below his usual standards. Gossipy teachers at a rural school may turn out to be closer than brothers. An idealistic scholar who fights with his eyes closed during a life-and-death situation may suddenly throw a punch to protect his family's honor. A noble officer who acts like a goof in front of a girl he likes may be unexpectedly ruthless.

Every character in this story is someone that can surprise you, and you remember them for a long time — except for Joseon royals who, unlike their Qing counterparts, are a bunch of wet rugs so far... it's either the acting — after all, none of them are Lee Deok-hwa — or they should become more convincing in Part 2.

Oh, how I am waiting for Part 2, despite the imminent heartbreak! Bring on the pain, author-nim, PD-nim! It's a good kind of pain, the one that reminds you that life unfolds as it should, not as you want it to. That you can't control other people – and you can hardly control your own thoughts and feelings. The heart wants what the heart wants. But if two hearts want the same thing, they would probably find their way towards each other.

Go watch this show. It is better (less bitter) on a second viewing! Your opinion may vary, but the variety of opinions and emotions is a sign of depth, complexity — and that it hit the nerve.

Read More