I was never a huge fan of Korean dramas. Since I was younger, I have always been surrounded by people who watched K-dramas religiously, but I never caught on to the habit myself. Based on what I’d seen, K-dramas were mostly about cliché romances that, while too good to be true, would always work out anyway. Although I did understand the appeal, I always thought they weren’t for me.

The show's core is its trio of main characters: Gang-tae (Kim Soo-hyun, right), his love interest Mun-yeong (Seo Yea-ji, left), and his brother Sang-tae (Oh Jung-se, center)
The show's core is its trio of main characters: Gang-tae (Kim Soo-hyun, right), his love interest Mun-yeong (Seo Yea-ji, left), and his brother Sang-tae (Oh Jung-se, center)

Things have changed recently. Not only did I end up studying in Korea, I was also yanked away from it after only one semester, just after growing fond of the Korean atmosphere. After months of being stuck at home, I found myself itching for a taste of Korean culture — which prompted me to watch my first ever K-drama, It’s Okay to Not Be Okay.

Airing on tvN in Korea from June to August and released on Netflix worldwide, It’s Okay to Not Be Okay stars Kim Soo-hyun, reportedly 2020’s highest paid Korean actor, as Gang-tae, a caregiver at a psychiatric hospital. Alongside him are Seo Yea-ji as Mun-yeong, an antisocial children’s book writer and Gang-tae’s love interest, and Oh Jung-se as Sang-tae, Gang-tae’s older brother with autism. In its 16 episodes, the show mainly explores Gang-tae and Mun-yeong’s romance — it is a K-drama, after all — but also tackles themes like found family and brings awareness to different mental disorders.

The definitive highlight of the show is the acting, with its three leads embodying their unique roles perfectly. Kim Soo-hyun, in his first main TV role since 2015, flexes his acting muscles by displaying a wide range of emotions, from stoicism and pretense to anger and despair — a result of Gang-tae’s complete selflessness, never knowing how to put himself first. Mun-yeong is the diagonal opposite: an overly selfish woman used to getting her own way, played by actress Seo Yea-ji, who brings nuance to what could’ve been an otherwise flat and one-dimensional character. But the best acting on the show is by Oh Jung-se, who had the arduous task of portraying a character on the autism spectrum but did it with care and flair, stealing every scene he’s in. Along with their individual skills, the chemistry between the three actors is unmistakable, with each of them playing off one another and making their performances richer and better.

Excellent acting, of course, is nothing without excellent writing. It was honestly a bit jarring to see the usual K-drama tropes for the first time, like the main couple having a secret childhood connection or seemingly unnecessary big reveals and plot twists (about family, murder, or in this case, both). Admittedly, such tropes were the writing’s weak points. But what makes up for that is the great character work — every episode is filled with moments of growth for the characters that feel earned and not forced. Aside from that, the different relationships among the characters — brotherhood, romance, friendship — are written in a way that makes them unique and enjoyable to watch. The show is also sprinkled with callbacks and references to earlier episodes that make it more rewarding for fans to watch and pay attention.

Underscoring all this is the cinematography, with almost every scene worth pausing to appreciate their visual beauty. I thought this was typical of K-dramas, but after seeing a few other shows, I realized It’s Okay to Not Be Okay was at the top tier in that regard. The soundtrack was also memorable and perfectly represents the show’s different moods and themes, like Elaine’s playful “Wake Up”, which often accentuates Mun-yeong’s antics, or Janet Suhh’s “In Silence”, a melancholic anthem for the show’s moments of loneliness and longing.

What makes the experience even better is the well-earned and satisfying conclusion. Not every question is answered, and the future is left open-ended, but the arcs of each character and their relationships are tied up neatly and fulfilled in equal measure. The selfless caretaker learns to love himself; the self-absorbed author opens up to others; the reliant older brother becomes more independent; and each of them comes to terms with their own traumas.
None of this is to say that the show is the perfect K-drama. After all, I’m certainly not qualified enough for that assessment. But it was great for my first introduction to the world of K-dramas — by no means typical, but in many ways representative of the best aspects. There are likely plenty more out there that are better, but It’s Okay to Not Be Okay, for this K-drama beginner, is definitely more than okay.

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