My Youth: Episodes 3-4
by DaebakGrits
Filming for the documentary is underway, and our former child actor and manager find themselves on opposite sides of the camera. Despite a ready-made excuse to spend time together, awkwardness and professionalism permeate our OTP’s every interaction until an overnight filming trip — and fate — forces them into close proximity.
Episodes 3-4
Last week’s premiere of My Youth left me with a long list of questions mostly pertaining to the entangled relationships that are at the forefront of our story. Thankfully, one of those questions is answered rather quickly this week when Je-yeon pitches the documentary about Tae-rin and Hae (or Beat and Bebop, as they were known on their former sitcom days) to Pil-do and confirms she’s unaware that Hae is related to her boss by marriage. Pil-do feigns ignorance, as though she only has a vague memory of the former child actor and the nostalgic sitcom that he was once starred in, but a flashback reveals she’s known him (or of him through the industry) for longer than her marriage to his father. In fact, she was present at his mother’s funeral and was a silent bystander watching the swarm of rabid reporters clamoring to get a photo of young Hae.
Pil-do agrees with Je-yeon’s proposal, but reminds Je-yeon she should prioritize Tae-rin, their actress, and ensure she’s not overshadowed by Hae’s emergence from obscurity. Tae-rin, for her part, shares similar concerns over the documentary, as she fears the documentary will solidify the public’s inability to see past her child acting days and further doom her already plateauing adult career. Je-yeon assures Tae-rin that she won’t allow that to happen, and cautiously appeased, Tae-rin agrees to do the documentary, too.
Filming begins almost immediately, thanks to PD JIN SO-RA’s (Lee Ji-hye) eagerness to see her dream project come to fruition, but even though Je-yeon described the documentary as “non-sensational” and “organic” when she pitched it to Pil-do, it’s neither of those things — at least not in the beginning. Although it’s expected that there is a script (of sorts) for the cast to follow because this is still television, but on the first day of filming PD Jin coaxes Je-yeon into pretending to be a customer who wanders into Hae’s flower shop and “shyly” recognizes him. Je-yeon’s quip that she’s incapable of being shy in front of Hae is almost as funny as her attempts at acting, which prove her claim to be extremely accurate, but she’s not the only one struggling in front of the camera.
Tae-rin and Hae, who are reunited the first day of filming and seemingly fall into step quickly, have their own issues once the cameras start rolling. Hae’s general apathy for showbiz ironically allows him to present the most genuine version of himself for the documentary, but the trauma of his mother’s funeral left its scars. Mid-filming, he has a momentary panic attack when he becomes hyper aware of the cameras and the crowd of people watching him like an exhibit at a zoo. Je-yeon is the only one to notice his reaction for what it was, and she realizes in hindsight why he must have turned down all the previous casting offers. So why did he change his mind this time, she asks him, but instead of admitting she’s the reason, Hae dodges the truth and jokes that she was a convincing saleswoman.
At the same time, Tae-rin has something to prove to the viewers. She’s very conscientious of her public image, but she censors herself in a way that suppresses her natural charms and feels counterintuitive to her objective. Hae, however, has a way of bringing out the most authentic and entertaining version of herself. Case in point: while filming at a restaurant, Hae’s able to goad her into a bickering match. This moment not only makes for better television, but she’s so distracted by the conversation that she forgets she’s supposed to be starving herself for her other filming project and subconsciously accepts his proffered lettuce wrap.
After a short adjustment period, it looks like Tae-rin and Hae will have enough on-screen chemistry to ensure the documentary lives up to the hype, but once the studio began promoting the documentary, it was only a matter of time before the media latched onto Hae’s tragic past and released an article detailing the scandal that culminated in his mother’s suicide. Through flashbacks, we learn that Hae’s acting career began when he was scouted as a last minute replacement for the child actor who failed to show up for filming in Hae’s small, seaside village. He won a Best Actor award for his role in the movie, and his success prompted his mother, who raised him on her own after Chan ran away to be a wandering poet, to move them to Seoul.
Hae was eventually cast on the popular Beat and Bebop sitcom, but a few years later, he was dropped from the show. Hae’s mother had clearly lost sight of what was important during Hae’s rise to stardom. Upon hearing he was being cut because he’d visibly aged out of the role, she told Hae he needed to diet so he appeared smaller and younger. Her desperation is what allowed her to be tricked into backing a shady director’s so-called Korean version of Harry Potter, and when the director embezzled and ran away with her and the other investors’ money, she chose to end her life.
When Je-yeon becomes aware of the article and accompanying video (presumably of him at his mother’s funeral), she’s horrified and immediately seeks out Hae at his flower shop. She claims she somehow “missed” this extremely important detail when researching him, and — not for the first time — I find her ignorance incongruent. While it was implied that, as a teenager, she was oblivious to many pop culture references because her parents likely wanted her focused on her studies, it seems highly unlikely that she’d be unaware of Hae’s scandal as an adult. Even if we exclude the idea that she, unlike most people in the digital age, failed to Google her former crush at some point in her life, Je-yeon not fully knowing Hae’s background as a child actor when pitching a documentary on that era of his life is an example of professional incompetency.
After comforting Hae with a hug and promising to take care of the article, she struggles to contact the reporter and have it removed. Thankfully, Pil-do had already taken care of the article, and, sure, she makes it seem like she’s it was a cumbersome professional decision, but methinks she has a soft spot for Hae. Initially, I was extremely suspicious of Pil-do’s motives. Years of K-drama watching have conditioned me to believe the chaebol step-mother is always a villain, but after learning she agreed to take care of Nu-ri while Hae fulfilled his mandatory military service, I’m wondering if my wariness is unwarranted. There’s still a chance Pil-do’s charitable actions are a form of atonement because she was somehow involved in the events that led to Hae’s mother’s death, but I hope that’s not the case and there are no “villains” in this drama.
Instead, I would prefer the plot remain focused on the two love lines, especially our secondary couple. Tae-rin and Seok-joo finally got some one-on-one time when he swooped in to save her from some fortune tellers and then unintentionally escorted her to Hae’s flower shop, where he’d also been headed. Seok-joo is charmingly condescending (if that makes sense) as he cautions her against traveling alone and being “picked up” by scammers, but he has the decency to replace the coffee he made her spill. Although their interaction was short, Tae-rin was flustered by her time with Seok-joo, and he was equally charmed by her corny “flower shop” dad joke. I like the slow burn of this particular couple, but I wish they had more scenes together, even if they had to share the time with the main OTP.
And speaking of Hae and Je-yeon, the little awkward dance they’ve been doing around each other finally comes to an end when the documentary crew takes their show on the road and travels to a small island village, where Tae-rin and Hae frolic by the beach and plant some greenery for the camera. Well, that was the plan until a crew member is bitten by a snake, and the land owner who granted them permission to plant on his land tells them not to film. (Seriously, did no one think to mention to the landowner that they’d be filming when they asked for permission?) While the rest of the film crew packs up and leaves, Hae stays to plant the trees, as promised, and Je-yeon lingers behind to wrap up. And that is how stormy weather conditions cause both Je-yeon and Hae to miss the last ferry boat of the island and fall victim to the One Bed Trope. (Apparently, all the other hotel rooms are booked by other island visitors unexpectedly stranded on the island because of the canceled ferries.)
Hae and Je-yeon share a bed for the night, and when Je-yeon wakes up in the big spoon position, she hastily kicks Hae out of bed because she’s embarrassed. Opting to pretend it never happened, Je-yeon helps Hae with his planting, but the time he saved by having a second pair of hands is lost when their car runs out of gas and strands them on the side of the road. As they resign themselves to their current situation and walk to the nearest gas station, they banter back and forth until Je-yeon works up the courage to ask Hae, again, why he agreed to do the documentary.
It’s unclear if she suspects the truth or is really that clueless — there’s certainly enough evidence to suggest she’s capable of being rather oblivious — but either way, Hae finally confesses he did it for her, his “long-lost friend.” Je-yeon laughs when he lies that his motivations share a meaning with the trees they’d just planted, and Hae can’t take her eyes off her and the way she glows in the sunlight. Hae makes his move, leaning in closer, and although Je-yeon cautions him against touching her, he lets his lips hover an inch above hers. “Dodge, if you don’t like it,” he warns. She counters with,”What if I don’t dislike it?” and he responds by kissing her.
I’m not fully on board with how these episodes built up to this kiss because Hae’s interest in Je-yeon is portrayed (possibly unintentionally) as being mostly one-sided. Prior to the kiss, it wasn’t obvious to me that Je-yeon still harbors romantic feelings for Hae. She’s done well to hide behind her wall of professionalism, and it was rather clear that she was drawing a line betwen her and Hae — even if she did, on occasion, forget herself and cross it. She rarely takes her eyes off Tae-rin when they’re in a room together, and the few times she does let her gaze wander to Hae when he isn’t looking, her eyes don’t betray a sense of longing. At most, I’d say she’s curious and quietly observing the man she’d once had a crush on because, as the one who was rejected in high school, she doesn’t want to be the one to fall first in adulthood.
In contrast, Hae is too caught up in his old, lingering emotions, which make him a bit sullen when he realizes Je-yeon’s life didn’t shift and move to revolve around him now that they’ve reunited. She approached him partially (re: mostly) because of her job, and much to Hae’s disappointment, their conversations are rarely about anything outside the scope of the documentary. When she initiates contact, it’s usually because of work, which makes their conversations seem superficial, and instead of reuniting and growing closer to one another, their interactions are rather stagnant and repetitive. While I have no issues with characters giving into physical attraction and kissing when the moment strikes them, I’d argue that this particular kiss was premature because there wasn’t enough emotional or physical tension. (Maybe if Je-yeon hadn’t literally kicked Hae out of bed, I’d be singing a different tune…)
Disappointing build-up to kiss aside, the overall vibe of this drama still pulls me into this story (for now), but I do think my main interest has shifted to the budding romance between Tae-rin and Seok-joo. Despite his off putting personality when he was a teenager, Seok-joo, has grown into a genuinely good — albeit overly confident — guy who tutors Nu-ri. Tae-rin, however, is the true scene stealer, and I love the minor side-plot she has going on with her atrocious co-star on the drama she’s filming simultaneously with the documentary. I died laughing when she broke character to cry-complain about her co-star’s noisy lip smacking, but beneath the humor there was a very pointed message about how the harshness of the entertainment business that’s repeatedly called out each time Tae-rin’s forced diet stops her from socializing or being her most authentic self. I’m rooting for her to not only find romance but the confidence she needs to ditch the diet and join her friends for some bulgogi.
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