Our Movie: Episodes 9-10

by Dramaddictally

Scandals are broiling in our penultimate week, with the film on the verge of collapse. Amidst the chaos, our heroine’s condition continues to decline, and our back-from-the-dead director must make a decision. Will he stay by her side or say goodbye?

 
EPISODES 9-10

We ended last time with a sunset and a kiss, and now all the feelings are coming out. Je-ha has decided that he wants to live in the moment and that means he’s going all in with Da-eum. His changing emotions come along with some changes to the script, as he starts to rethink his jaded take on the story. Now, Je-ha can finally imagine why the movie’s male lead would stay with a dying woman, rather than coldly walk away, and so he just might revert to the original ending.

But with closeness and handholding front and center, secret love isn’t safe on set — or online. Soon after our leads start to swoon, articles come out about the “girlfriend casting controversy.” Essentially, Je-ha is being accused of selecting this unknown actress for the lead because she’s his girlfriend. What’s worse, the story is twisted so that Da-eum is the villain for receiving preferential treatment — which fits the show’s theme of how women end up with the worst of it in these kinds of scandals.

Interestingly, in the moment when it matters, Seo-young steps up to defend Da-eum. She knows the person who leaked the scandalous photo is the envious actress who went to school with Da-eum. Not only does Seo-young confront this actress, she gives Da-eum a kind of pep talk, telling her to stand her ground, since she fought for the lead, it wasn’t handed to her. Seo-young is honest that she still resents Da-eum, but she also respects that Da-eum is doing her best.

But, with the scandal gaining traction, the investor wants to pull the movie’s funding. As it turns out, both the producer and the investor knew about Da-eum’s condition before the movie began. As far as the investor is concerned, she’s part of the “concept.” And so, if it’s to go forward, he wants to replace Je-ha as the director.

With the movie’s future uncertain, Je-ha decides to come clean to Da-eum about his original intentions. He tells her that he purposefully allowed the investor to find out about her condition in order to secure funding. But Da-eum takes this information lightly, saying she used Je-ha as well. She wanted the part so badly that she highlighted her illness to land the role (I’m not so sure this is equivalent to what he did. That just sounds like using your assets on the job market).

The two decide to tear up their confidentiality agreement since they’ve both breached it anyway. And with that, they round up the film crew to clear the air. Je-ha states that he did not hire Da-eum because he had feelings for her. However, he does have feelings for her now. The crew is pretty understanding, saying there’s no crime in loving someone.

But then, things take a turn. Da-eum admits that she wanted to make a movie before she died, and that’s how she got this far. She gets teary, telling everyone that she’s actually dying. And then Je-ha interjects that he knew from the beginning and cast her for that reason. The crowd is stunned into silence, and shortly after, there’s a divide amongst crew members when some decide Je-ha’s actions are too unethical for them to continue to work with him.

Swiftly following the public reveal, the news lands online and Je-ha is under fire again, with the whole movie further at risk. Due to the snow, filming is postponed just then anyway, and everyone heads back to Seoul, where Da-eum is re-hospitalized as her condition worsens.

And then, we finally get filled in on the backstory about Je-ha’s mom. She didn’t just write the script for Love in White; she wrote all the scripts for Je-ha’s dad’s movies — and the dad put his name on each and every one of them. (Holy crap, this gives the gendered power problem we’ve been dealing with a whole other spin.)

Je-ha’s mom was still alive when the majority of the movies were produced. But Love in White was her final script when she was diagnosed with cancer. For that last one, she wanted to put her own name on it. However, Je-ha’s dad shouts that if he credits her as the screenwriter, then everyone will question all his prior works (rightly so) and that the family’s livelihood depends on his success.

Je-ha wants to go public with this “embarrassing truth” about his father because, as he says, “a world-renowned director has actually stolen his wife’s work.”

Further, we learn that the lead actress who was rumored to have an affair with Je-ha’s dad was actually a close friend of Je-ha’s mom. Not only was the affair rumor false, she was disgusted by the director’s behavior toward his talented wife. It’s actually Mom who convinces the actress to play the lead, and to show the script to Je-ha one day, hoping he’ll understand what she meant when she wrote it. So, the friend has finally made good on that promise.

All this information, along with time spent with Da-eum, makes Je-ha begin to question his own life and actions. After his hit movie, he spent five years putting himself through hell, wondering if it was him or his father’s legacy that made his film successful. Now, he sees that as wasted time. Partly, his father’s reputation wasn’t as well deserved as he thought. But also, Da-eum is showing him how precious all our time is.

He finally understands his mom’s ability to write about love, even as she was dying and her husband was stealing her work. He concludes that the time she spent writing must have been the most important time of her life, just as acting in this movie is for Da-eum. That understanding of love is what Je-ha has been searching for, and he changes tune and begins to personally apologize to each of the members of his film crew — as each of them is also giving their important time to his movie.

We wrap up with reunions and amends as we head into the finale. First, Seo-young and Da-eum have lunch and admit that they admire each other. There’s jealousy on both sides, but also laughter and signs of tears, as these two remain on good terms.

Second, we see Da-eum in a hospital bed screaming and writhing in pain with doctors all around. She wants Je-ha out of the room so he doesn’t see her this way. Outside, Je-ha chats with Da-eum’s dad, who says this is a habitual occurrence for Da-eum and it will only get worse. Je-ha confirms he wants to stay by her side until the end, and the two discuss how it feels to lose someone you love. Afterward, Dad says he wants to see Da-eum’s finished movie — and he later tells his daughter the same, giving her his blessing.

Lastly, Je-ha brings Da-eum to his family home where the newly reunited film crew is waiting for her. When Da-eum sees everyone there to support her, she runs from the house crying, saying that she really wants to live. Je-ha looks unsure how to respond, but he’s on the verge of breaking down as well. He pulls her in for a hug as she cries, and we’re left hanging until next week.

I like that Da-eum is allowed to be a real person in these episodes. Her happy-go-lucky routine got old a long time ago. And I think it would have helped to see her in so much pain earlier on in the drama. She had one seizure that didn’t seem to faze her, but we had nothing to contrast with her happy front to understand just how much she’s hiding. Here, we finally get the needed contrast.

Je-ha’s full turnaround feels a bit abrupt to me, but I guess it’s all about him finally understanding his mother. He’s seeing her perspective as someone who’s dying and loving her work, and he recognizes the same in Da-eum. The comparison seems to be all the pull he needs toward Da-eum as he makes sense of that love. I think this explains Seo-young’s earlier question to Je-ha about how he can be so sure he loves Da-eum when he wasn’t able to love Seo-young. He seems like a different person with Da-eum because the context is transforming him.

The overarching question of the drama is one I’m still pondering though. Is it irresponsible to love someone who’s dying? I’m not sure. We all get into relationships knowing they’re likely to end. And when it does, it’s going to hurt. Is it any more irresponsible than any other kind of love? Finding a love that’s reciprocal can be plenty hard enough. If you find it, doesn’t it make sense to take it, even if it’s temporary?

 
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