(Padam Padam is a Monday-Tuesday drama that premiered on December 5th in South Korea on the new cable channel jTBC and is being subtitled in English by Dramafever. It is scheduled to air for twenty episodes).
I can say, in all earnestness, that Padam Padam epitomizes why I am so passionately devoted to the medium of television. It may seem a bit hasty to throw such praise around for a series that has just aired its first two episodes this past week, but when the directing, cinematography, writing, and acting is firing on all cylinders the way it has so far, I can’t help but get excited.
The set-up: Yang Kang Chil has been in prison for sixteen of his thirty-five years for a murder he did not commit. In his last month inside, Kang Chil receives the opportunity to change the course of his life for the better, in part because of his ever-supportive friend/self-described guardian angel Lee Kook Soo. Kang Chil is informed that all such opportunities come in threes, and so he should experience two more now that he is released. Meanwhile, Kang Chil’s fate is quickly being entangled with that of the prickly veternarian Jung Ji Na, and figures prominent in his arrest and set-up sixteen years ago are reentering his life in unclear and dubious ways.
*CAVEAT: While this synopsis may seem at first glance to add up to no more than your average action narrative or melodrama, this drama is so much more than it’s plot, so don’t pass it up simply if that doesn’t seem all that compelling.
If nothing else, watch the first two episodes for the aesthetics:
I felt myself smiling throughout this fairly tense episode primarily because the art and the music were just that beautiful. But more than that, the visuals and the score enhanced the emotions of the episodes. I could feel the grit and the anger in the prison walls because the lighting was handled so expertly, and because the music was intense without being overbearing. Once Kang Chil is released, the landscape shots were so lovingly staged that I could understand his desire to be outside of prison despite his having nowhere to go, and I could feel his excitement to be in the world again.
I am particularly sensitive to how religion and spirituality are utilized and alluded to on television, and am therefore either totally turned off or fully engrossed by it, depending on the writer and director. The description of Kang Chil’s friend Kook Soo as a “guardian angel” is not merely metaphorical: this show has directly and indirectly invoked spirituality in ways that shape its characters and the world they live in. Thankfully, writer Noh Hee Kyung and director Kim Kyu Tae so far have folded it into this drama seamlessly and seriously. How they have used the character of Kook Soo so far reminds me of how Baltar’s Six was used on Battlestar Galactica. Both are mysterious figures, the nature of their existences and essences not entirely known to their charges or to the audience. But neither of them is reduced to a static, all-knowing manifestations of the Almighty. Each of them is flawed and interesting in and of themselves. Kook Soo calls himself an angel who’s looking out for Kang Chil, acting like an overeager dongsaeng trying to protect and latch onto his hyung. Yet there have been hints that beneath this puppy-like bromantic façade is the work of a greater force determined to protect and guide Kang Chil.
Furthermore, how this supernatural involvement in our characters’ world is shown has been skillfully handled without being overindulgent. The few on-the-nose visual cues that the show has indulged in (the glistening of the angel statue Kook Soo gave to Kang Chil for strength, the shadow of the angel’s wing appearing on the prison ground from above), have been beautifully crafted and have been given the appropriate context by setting up high stakes and paying them off. Kang Chil is presented with the opportunity to rewrite his history that leads to an untimely death, and Kook Soo is able to give his friend perspective on his situation, but like all classic Biblical moral quandaries, Kang Chil is ultimately responsible for willing his own fate. And it is Kang Chil’s own choice that turns his life towards the better in the second episode, even with the assistance, worldly or otherwise, from Kook Soo.
Side Note: See, You’re Beautiful? I’m not just being ornery. There is a sophisticated and substantial way to use angels in a narrative.
As I mentioned in my twitter-sized review yesterday, I do have one narrative gripe, and it’s not insignificant. I find Kang Chil’s development wholly engrossing: I’m excited to see how he adjusts to life on the outside of the prison walls after sixteen years. I also find his personal relationship with Kook Soo endearing. Yet when the focus of the series shifted during the second episode towards his developing relationship with Jung Ji Na (played by Han Ji Min), I was less intrigued. Their meet-cute moments are less original and are handled more like the elements of a typical melodrama or rom-com than the murder set-up and moral redemption are. And whenever the two characters are not together and the audience is just left with Jung Ji Na, the narrative tends to slow to a halt, and we are left with a self-centered and judgmental princess. It’s refreshing that the lead female is not a plucky heroine who’s down on her luck but always has a smile, but she’s going to need some redeeming herself if she’s going to be someone the audience cares about and ultimately roots for. She saves dogs, though, so at least she’s got that going for her.
I must therefore especially note the efforts of Jung Woo Sung and Kim Bum, who play Kang Chil and Kook Soo respectively. These characters wouldn’t be half as appealing were they not portrayed so passionately. Kang Chil is extreme in every action and reaction. When he’s sweet, as he is with Ji Na, the first woman he’s talked with in years, he’s vulnerable and sympathetic, but when he’s angry, he’s a force of nature. Jung Woo Sung feels every betrayal, every insecurity, every hope that Kang Chil has, and he brings it out in every glance and syllable. And Kim Bum? I name him most improved actor this year. As much as I love his character Ha Min Jae from The Woman Who Still Wants to Marry (2010), Kim Bum’s youthful charm (or dyed gray hair) couldn’t cover his stilted delivery. Yet he has become a man, and this performance shows it. He has really learned to live and breathe a character, and the natural cuteness he possesses has been harnessed in a way that makes the mysterious Kook Soo relatable. Furthermore, I actually buy that his character could have ended up in prison and could be a spiritual advisor, which took me by surprise.
Is this drama perfect? No. There is no form of the Perfect Drama that Plato or I or any k-drama fan would find acceptable. My snarky response aside, there is some room for improvement (to make the romance as compelling as the other aspects of this drama). But right now there is no television series that has excited me as much as this series has, and I have already carved out the time each week for this series, even if it has to come at the expense of others. So folks, it’s time to open up a new tab on your web browser and give this drama a try. I dare you to try walking away unmoved.
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