Just Between Lovers: Episode 2

This drama would be hard to sell as exciting; well, because it isn't...at least not in the dramatic sense. But what I do find it to be is incredibly moving. The way in which characters are made to cross paths in the aftermath of a single tragedy is particularly engaging, especially when you see how they have all been individually affected. It's a slow unravel, for sure, making for a slower pace than your average Kdrama; which admittedly, may not be to everyone's taste. But that is what I love most about this drama - it doesn't tease its viewers, or make us grow impatient, nor does it seek to gratify us using superficial developments, rather it takes us along on this long journey, assured of its destination, and through it, we get to appreciate the process of healing, not as a quick fix, but as something which takes years, if not a lifetime of commitment, as seen through the lives of these various characters.

One of the things I love about this show is how the child
actors reflect their adult counterparts in the minutest of details. Not just in their looks (props to the casting depart.), but also their demeanour. And to a degree, that's a testament to the level of acting we're getting from these young talents. In a series of flashback we get to see how Kang-doo and Moon-soo were before the tragic event had struck, and it's painful to see how much they've lost growing up, leaving you to imagine what could have been were they not caught up in this ill fate. Snapshots of Kang-doo happily meeting up with his father, him sitting there enjoying an ice-cream whilst eyeing the clean-cut look of the boy across him, and the youthful spark he felt when he first saw a young Moon-soo applying some lipstick - they're all subtle moments, but when combined, they reveal so much about their characters and the kind of adults they would have grown up to become - happy, carefree and passionate individuals.

That moment when Moon-soo notices glue on her trousers was very telling, as it gives us a glimpse into how she feels about her current situation - there's a fleeting moment of desire, regret and sorrow all rolled into one, as though she too is processing the "what ifs" which only makes us sympathise with her more. And then we see what prevents her from taking steps towards her own happiness - the fact that "as many as 49 people died", including her sister, is a statistic she's unable to forget, and yet, it's also a painful recollection which she has no choice but to forget due to her loss of memory. And though it doesn't torment her like it does Kang-doo, seeing her parents in a constant state of agony is in itself a painful reminder of what had occurred, causing her to not only lose sleep, but also replay the tragic incident over and over again in a recurring nightmare. 

Through the various struggles, we see just how many lives are affected as a result of this tragedy; the loss of a family member or someone who's held dear causes this ripple effect in which multiple lives are affected as a result; in such cases, as Kang-doo narrates, even just living becomes hard.

As we follow each of the characters through their grief, we realise that it's not just what we see, but rather what we don't see which is equally significant. For instance, we see how much Moon-soo toils when she wakes up in the early hours of the morning to scrub the bathhouse, what we don't see however, is her taking in her reflection whenever she scrubs the mirrors, almost as if she's trying to avoid confronting herself and her fears. We see her father working tirelessly making noodles for his customers and welcoming them into his shop, we don't however see him welcome his own family, preferring to remain isolated instead. Or Moon-soo's mother, who stays drunk most the time, refusing to sober up to the reality in front of her. In essence, what we see is how each of them has built a wall around their grief, detaching themselves from the past completely; and yet, their inability to move on proves just how weak these walls are for their grief still remains raw after all these years. It's this stagnation in their lives which is causing problems, both for Moon-soo and her parents, who remain merely as empty shells, simply breathing, as living itself has become too hard.

It's heartbreaking to see Kang-doo surrounded by mother figures, when it serves to remind him that he no longer has one. The part where he joins Sang-man to eat is a lovely but heart wrenching moment, in that you can see that he's obviously become one of the family, but there's also a clear sense of detachment which denies him that maternal love he so craves for. The way his eyes take in the doting love Sang-man receives from his mother is particularly sad, as it displays the kind of bonds Kang-doo most yearns for, family love.

It's equally painful to see Moon-soo's relationship with her parents, since it's clear that they're all still stuck in the past. It's like she's living in an empty shell - a home without family, a family without parents. Seen as though her mother spends her time in a drunken state, and her father lives separately, it's Moon-soo who's having to remain strong and take on the role of family. I think this is why we feel so much for her, especially when she breaks down in front of her mum, having reached her limit. The moment she sees her mother floating in the water, you instantly know that that's it. Because up until that moment, Moon-soo had always been really patient with her mother, allowing her to grieve in her own way. Even when she scolds her mum for drinking too much, there's no authority in her voice, as though she's choosing to let it slip, if only for her mother to find some sort of solace. And it's doubly painful knowing that she's unable to share her parents' grief for she recognises that (through her eyes) their loss is considerably greater. Uff, and the way she says the words "if you're going to die, be sure to tell me first" was absolutely mind numbing; you feel her pain in that moment, which converts to anger over her mother's actions. And honestly, you can't blame her, because even though she's had to live life without much of her parents' guidance , you can tell that they're her motivation for braving it alone.

Moon-soo's lasting memory of her sister dancing in the sun-rays was a beautifully melancholic moment, which contrasts greatly with the grief of her parents. In Moon-soo's case, not being able to recall the tragic incident means that she's able to timelessly capture the bright, and youthful innocence of her sister from when she was still alive and happy. But that same moment also carries with it a sense of trepidation, for it only takes a moment for an illusion to shatter before the ugliness beneath is revealed. It's as if her memory itself is a ticking time bomb, waiting to unleash the lasting grief which is yet to hit Moon-soo, and perhaps this is what will finally bring her family's mourning period to a close, leading the way to healing; it's as Ma-ri says to Kang-doo, never be too rash in thinking that you've hit the bottom, otherwise life's blows will forever weigh you down. 

Something else I relish about this drama is the way in which emotional ties are served up between characters that on the surface, seem unlikely. And yet, therein lies the beauty of the show. These characters didn't just magically bond overnight as a result of a building collapse, rather they found each other in their own moments of need and through a display of human empathy, whilst navigating their way through life. It's definitely something special which Show is taking its time to develop, ensuring every relationship is explored in its layers of complexity.

I also love the noir-esque style of filming some of the scenes seem to carry, which somehow works to highlight the complexity in human relationships even further. Like the shot of Kang-doo and Haelmom smoking, with their backs turned to the camera, so that all you see is their silhouette and the drifting of smoke in the night, chill air. It's a gorgeous shot which not only displays the love between a mother figure and her son, but also the backs of two extremely hard working people who've spent their lives trying to stay above water. Their relationship is a unique one, and we only get to learn about it in snippets from characters in conversation - we know he owes her money from a very young age, (a debt which he's still trying to repay with interest), and yet, their bond has long surpassed that of mere debtor and creditor into something a lot more personal, and family like. And it's moments like this I most look forward to for it exuberates a kind of warmth which makes it so comforting to watch.

It's great that Kang-doo has someone like Haelmom in his life though - I feel she keeps him grounded (with her pearls of wisdom) and standing firmly on two feet, even in the face of fear. The scene where he was forced to bow down by CEO Yoo-taek, although hard to stomach, shows just how much of an impact Kang-doo has on others enough to bring out their insecurities. I also admired the courage with which he confidently relayed to Yoo-taek, that his failure to recognise the hardship of others who work day in and day out to make ends meet is a result of his high position. I think I actually *fist bumped* the air whilst watching that scene!

Moon-Soo: Trust the person next to you

Kang-doo: I don't want to. 

And lastly, the romance. Whilst it's still in first gear, there's no denying the chemistry between the two; and my word is it an electrifying pull. But I also appreciate that the relationship, in its early stages, will be one that is shrouded in mystery and painful recollection; so as long as they meet somewhere in the middle and prove to be the other's source of healing, I'm all for it. 

Initially, I thought his words were meant for her, and maybe they were, but after watching it a second time round, I can see how they'd apply to him too...the flashbacks do reveal that they were together during the incident, but it's unclear exactly how they got out and under what circumstances. Also the fact that she's unable to recall exactly what happened during the incident (a fact unknown to him), would undoubtedly change his perspective, hopefully removing some of that bitterness from his tone.