KDrama: Will It Snow for Christmas? Review
This was written a while back and not posted due to my neurotic tendency to think everything I accomplish is garbage for at least three months after. This would not be a drama I suggest to those just starting out, but the summary may be worth a read. Up to you, really.
Will it Snow for Christmas?
I won’t lie, the title of this drama still makes me cringe.
I have a habit of judging by cover when it comes to my media. From books and cds, all the way to kdrama, if I don’t like the looks of it I keep my distance. Recently I’ve been trying to stretch outside my narrow little view of likes and dislikes, mostly due to the drama Who Are You?, which I watched out of complete boredom and loved every second of. I’d literally passed it over at least a hundred times before; the promotional pictures were comedic in a goofy sort of way I couldn’t stand, and the synopsis made it sound oddly incestuous. The title was an issue of its own.
Such is the case with Will it Snow for Christmas?. Maybe it’s my own prejudice towards the holiday, but I grimace every time I hear the name, and now it’s not even by choice because I like this drama.
There’s been a trend of themed dramas appearing in Korean media lately. Dramas like Terrior or You’re Beautiful, which hinge on a certain place or gimmick, are becoming more and more popular, and kdrama is distancing itself from the simple tradition of four interconnected people with some really messed up relationships. Choi Ji Woo would be a name that comes to mind when I think traditional kdrama. Stories like Stairway to Heaven and Winter Sonata relied only on their characters and their plot; they didn’t need a plastic surgery clinic or some gender bending as backup.
Will it Snow for Christmas? takes kdrama back to the classics. Our story begins in a small town, where the stoic teenager Cha Kang Jin, his brother, and his mother have just moved in and set up shop. For the mother, this is a return to her hometown, but her children are unfamiliar with their new home and ostracized due to their mother’s outrageous reputation as the Madame of a hostess club. Kang Jin is particularly protective of both his mother and brother, and his temper flares whenever he’s confronted, but he’s also whip smart and not afraid to use it to his advantage.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, there’s Ji Wan, whose loyalty and big heart make up for her lack of mental prowess. Her father is a respected doctor of the town, and her older brother has just received a scholarship for college, so she doesn’t quite seem to fit with her family, but she’s not necessarily the black sheep. She loves her brother dearly and tries to keep her grades up to her parents’ expectations. She’s just sort of clumsy, in a way, and she tends to waltz right into problems before realizing they’re there.
You have two very familiar and likeable characters in these two: the rebel and the underdog. And considering this is the world of kdrama, of course they’re destined to meet. Their relationship starts off more than a little rocky, but as they gradually learn more about each other, they find themselves becoming attached, which is when the tragedy of the story begins. Kang Jin loses a pendant that belonged to his late father in the town river, and Ji Wan spends a month diving into the frigid waters trying to find it for him. Her brother catches her in the act one day, and tells her not to worry- he’ll find it for her, and he promises he won’t come out until he does.
The viewer is inevitably hit with one of those ‘uh oh’ moments; you’d have to be a vegetable not to realize this will lead to nothing good.
As foreshadowed, the brother dies while trying to find the pendant, and -low and behold- Ji Wan stumbles upon it while mourning her brother in the place of his death. Isn’t it just like fate to sucker punch you and then give you a pat on the back?
Inanycase, the body of her brother is discovered and her mother, who always favoured him, has a complete breakdown and blames Ji Wan for his death, saying it should have been her who died. Harsh, yeah, but she didn’t know Ji Wan was in earshot when she said it, and to be fair she just lost her son, so she’s not what I would call mentally stable. Ji Wan takes it upon herself to leave the house after she hears this, and before she goes she ends up telling Kang Jin she despises him in a fit of self-loathing while he confesses to her. It’s just misstep after misstep, really.
So Ji Wan leaves for Seoul and we flip years into the future to find her working as a waitress in a tiny cafe, while Kang Jin begins working at an architectural company down the street. They meet again, under considerably awkward circumstances, and the romance begins anew, though not without bumps and barriers (the death of her brother being a particularly large one).
As the story begins to wrap up, you’re taken back to their hometown and things begin to come full circle in a way, which is only right seeing as it would have been an unbelievably large loose end to just scrap Ji Wan’s abandoned family from the plot. A bit of history between the parents of the two families is revealed, and as it is shown to the two main characters their understanding of their parent’s past begins to heal a wound that was given decades before they were born. The story ends on a positive note, though not a definitive one, that leaves the viewer with hope, which I think is certainly a step up from the screenwriter’s usual (try I’m Sorry I Love You, or What Happened in Bali).
Positive press all said and done, I admit there’s been a ton of negative comments on subbing sites such as Viikii as to the overabundance of drama in WiSfC, which seems more than a little ridiculous to me considering WiSfC is what kdrama originally was. There’s so much cotton-candy fluff floating around out there now it’s almost as if people have forgotten exactly what the word drama means (also, I get the feeling the majority of the people who have problems with it are twelve year olds who happened upon kdrama by some miracle of teh internetz and have no idea what they’re watching. If they are older than twelve, I would like to ask why they can never seem to capitalize, punctuate, or correctly spell any of their comments). It’s tragedy, and love, and hate, and the unthinkable all rolled up into one. It’s going to seem over the top at times, and at others it might be too depressing to watch, but the idea is that it’s ups and downs, not constant, predictable lollipop plot.
After all, sugar may be nice at times, but eventually it rots your teeth.
Ps, I now officially hate LJ cut, if only because I can never seem to do it correctly. Honestly, shouldn't they make something akin to a child-proof cap for people like me to ensure this double-cut thing doesn't happen?
Will it Snow for Christmas?
I won’t lie, the title of this drama still makes me cringe.
I have a habit of judging by cover when it comes to my media. From books and cds, all the way to kdrama, if I don’t like the looks of it I keep my distance. Recently I’ve been trying to stretch outside my narrow little view of likes and dislikes, mostly due to the drama Who Are You?, which I watched out of complete boredom and loved every second of. I’d literally passed it over at least a hundred times before; the promotional pictures were comedic in a goofy sort of way I couldn’t stand, and the synopsis made it sound oddly incestuous. The title was an issue of its own.
Such is the case with Will it Snow for Christmas?. Maybe it’s my own prejudice towards the holiday, but I grimace every time I hear the name, and now it’s not even by choice because I like this drama.
There’s been a trend of themed dramas appearing in Korean media lately. Dramas like Terrior or You’re Beautiful, which hinge on a certain place or gimmick, are becoming more and more popular, and kdrama is distancing itself from the simple tradition of four interconnected people with some really messed up relationships. Choi Ji Woo would be a name that comes to mind when I think traditional kdrama. Stories like Stairway to Heaven and Winter Sonata relied only on their characters and their plot; they didn’t need a plastic surgery clinic or some gender bending as backup.
Will it Snow for Christmas? takes kdrama back to the classics. Our story begins in a small town, where the stoic teenager Cha Kang Jin, his brother, and his mother have just moved in and set up shop. For the mother, this is a return to her hometown, but her children are unfamiliar with their new home and ostracized due to their mother’s outrageous reputation as the Madame of a hostess club. Kang Jin is particularly protective of both his mother and brother, and his temper flares whenever he’s confronted, but he’s also whip smart and not afraid to use it to his advantage.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, there’s Ji Wan, whose loyalty and big heart make up for her lack of mental prowess. Her father is a respected doctor of the town, and her older brother has just received a scholarship for college, so she doesn’t quite seem to fit with her family, but she’s not necessarily the black sheep. She loves her brother dearly and tries to keep her grades up to her parents’ expectations. She’s just sort of clumsy, in a way, and she tends to waltz right into problems before realizing they’re there.
You have two very familiar and likeable characters in these two: the rebel and the underdog. And considering this is the world of kdrama, of course they’re destined to meet. Their relationship starts off more than a little rocky, but as they gradually learn more about each other, they find themselves becoming attached, which is when the tragedy of the story begins. Kang Jin loses a pendant that belonged to his late father in the town river, and Ji Wan spends a month diving into the frigid waters trying to find it for him. Her brother catches her in the act one day, and tells her not to worry- he’ll find it for her, and he promises he won’t come out until he does.
The viewer is inevitably hit with one of those ‘uh oh’ moments; you’d have to be a vegetable not to realize this will lead to nothing good.
As foreshadowed, the brother dies while trying to find the pendant, and -low and behold- Ji Wan stumbles upon it while mourning her brother in the place of his death. Isn’t it just like fate to sucker punch you and then give you a pat on the back?
Inanycase, the body of her brother is discovered and her mother, who always favoured him, has a complete breakdown and blames Ji Wan for his death, saying it should have been her who died. Harsh, yeah, but she didn’t know Ji Wan was in earshot when she said it, and to be fair she just lost her son, so she’s not what I would call mentally stable. Ji Wan takes it upon herself to leave the house after she hears this, and before she goes she ends up telling Kang Jin she despises him in a fit of self-loathing while he confesses to her. It’s just misstep after misstep, really.
So Ji Wan leaves for Seoul and we flip years into the future to find her working as a waitress in a tiny cafe, while Kang Jin begins working at an architectural company down the street. They meet again, under considerably awkward circumstances, and the romance begins anew, though not without bumps and barriers (the death of her brother being a particularly large one).
As the story begins to wrap up, you’re taken back to their hometown and things begin to come full circle in a way, which is only right seeing as it would have been an unbelievably large loose end to just scrap Ji Wan’s abandoned family from the plot. A bit of history between the parents of the two families is revealed, and as it is shown to the two main characters their understanding of their parent’s past begins to heal a wound that was given decades before they were born. The story ends on a positive note, though not a definitive one, that leaves the viewer with hope, which I think is certainly a step up from the screenwriter’s usual (try I’m Sorry I Love You, or What Happened in Bali).
Positive press all said and done, I admit there’s been a ton of negative comments on subbing sites such as Viikii as to the overabundance of drama in WiSfC, which seems more than a little ridiculous to me considering WiSfC is what kdrama originally was. There’s so much cotton-candy fluff floating around out there now it’s almost as if people have forgotten exactly what the word drama means (also, I get the feeling the majority of the people who have problems with it are twelve year olds who happened upon kdrama by some miracle of teh internetz and have no idea what they’re watching. If they are older than twelve, I would like to ask why they can never seem to capitalize, punctuate, or correctly spell any of their comments). It’s tragedy, and love, and hate, and the unthinkable all rolled up into one. It’s going to seem over the top at times, and at others it might be too depressing to watch, but the idea is that it’s ups and downs, not constant, predictable lollipop plot.
After all, sugar may be nice at times, but eventually it rots your teeth.
Ps, I now officially hate LJ cut, if only because I can never seem to do it correctly. Honestly, shouldn't they make something akin to a child-proof cap for people like me to ensure this double-cut thing doesn't happen?