Some TP readers think I have a hair fixation since I tend to harp on the subject in my recaps or reviews. But the truth is I don’t notice hairdos unless they are weird or downright awful.
Take Emperor of the Sea which I’ve been watching spellbound the last two days. Nine episodes in (and forty-two to go), I’m in love with the story and soundtrack, and awed by the production values. But then Choi Su-jong appears (and the guy has a lot of screen time since he’s the lead) and I’m once again distracted by that THING which is supposedly hair but looks more like shredded rags hastily stitched together.
A strange thing happened to me in May. And it’s got nothing to do with the six new dramas that began airing that month. (It has, however, affected how I watch those dramas.)
I’ve become a face watcher. Specifically male faces. Specifically actors’ faces. I lean close and stare. I study every inch; I check even the earlobes. And then I lean back and announce my verdict to the lizards in my room. (Well, to the remaining two whose reptilian hearts overflow with pity for me.) Triumphantly, because I have a point to prove, I say aloud:
“Close enough but not quite. He’s still fairer.”
The invitation went out and quickly met with mixed response.
One pal claimed he had retired as a pundit, but I suspect the real reason is because his cat’s fur stood on end every time the drama was playing in the room. (Dogs just lick you silly but cats see things that the human eye can’t.) Another pal thought she could evade the invite by distracting me with a bunch of Micky Yoochun clips. (She succeeded because I forgot to send her the question.) A third pal developed a strange rash that necessitated a trip to the hospital. (Apparently too much squealing over one Kim Gab-soo can do weird things to your body.) The fourth dropout (thundie) professed being so busy she could barely breathe, but of course the truth was that the drama made her feel all kinds of dim. (Dumbstruck with wonder but still dim; she didn’t get the ending at all.)
So only four reviewers remained for our third epic review this year. Wild applause, please, for langdon813, momosan, ockoala and Serendipity! With their usual eloquence and erudition, they have bravely attempted to answer the following question:
Solve this mystery: How did a little-known cable drama nudge its way past this year’s stellar offerings to become the best of them all?
Friends recently nicknamed him M&M, which may mean Mucho Magnífico or Muah! Mister. Privately, though, I’m sure it stands for Mine & Mine.
If you’ve watched Kim Gab-soo in anything, you’ll understand why my kdrama friends and I fight over him like kids on Free Candy Day, hands flailing and mouths watering. Lies fly fast and furious in our fray, spawning hyperbolic gems like this one: “Ha, you weren’t even born when I watched him in Rebirth!”
Scuffles and first-dibs claims aside (and I was only pulling your leg, of course; we kdrama lunatics are nothing but cozy), imagine my joy when I discovered yesterday that M&M is not only in one of my current favorite dramas, he’s in another one that’s quickly shaping up to be a favorite as well.