Saturday, November 19, 2011

Me Too, Flower: Episode 2

Hello! I’m orangy911 and I have the honor of writing recaps for Me Too, Flower on this wonderful site, which has been my virtual home for anything related to K-dramas for the past four years. I’m excited to finally be contributing something to this community and I look forward to discussing the good and the bad about this drama.
First things first, I think we can all agree that we’re going to have to engage in some suspension of disbelief. Now, I’m naturally a sarcastic, sardonic person who likes to make fun of things, but I will try to get over the fact that:

  1. Kim Jae Won is not in the drama. I’m a diehard Kim fan and I thrashed around on my bed in tears when I heard he was in an accident and couldn’t continue the drama. He would have been perfect for the role and I loathe my inability to see his post-army body. Feel better and come back to the screen soon, ajusshi. Until then, I’ll re-watch your bed scenes with Nam Goong Min.
  2. Yoon Shi Yoon looks like a college student. I liked him well enough during High Kick 2, but last year’s Baker King Kim Tak Gu turned me into a fan. He has a congenial, endearing aura and his acting has improved at an impressive rate. He’s trying his best to sell a character that’s way too old for him and his line delivery can be a little awkward, but he’s trying his damn hardest and I give him credit for that.
  3. Lee Ji Ah doesn’t have the most engaging screen presence. I watched bits and pieces of Beethoven Virus and one episode of Style before, and she was neither offensively bad nor particularly outstanding. I hated both dramas for reasons other than her, so my feeling towards Lee Ji Ah has always been indifference. I had no strong opinion on the whole “secret marriage/divorce” scandal; all I saw were two people caught in a media crapstorm. She carries a certain charm and she’s believable as Bong Sun, so I’m ready to root for her through the up and downs of the drama’s plot-line.
  4. Han Go Eun‘s character seems out of place. She first caught my eye in Bodyguard and I’ve liked her ever since then. (Check out Capital Scandal clips if you want to know more about her). She’s tall, graceful, and sexy in a quiet way, but Yoon Shi Yoon’s baby face makes her seem like a cougar (which is unfortunate because she usually has amazing chemistry with her co-stars). I’m still hoping she’s his adopted sister or something.
  5. Seo Hyo Rim is stealing a lot of thunder from her fellow cast mates. I don’t know how she makes some of the most annoying characters likeable, but she does and I love her for that. The bratty, princess character is her forte and I’m looking forward to Dal’s relationship with Bong Sun the most.

I think I’ve established the bigger issues that we’re going to have to ignore, but feel free to share more thoughts. There’s only so much the producers and actors can fix, so I’m ready to just immerse myself into these characters. (Things like Yoon Shi Yoon’s hair, though, are totally going to be called out and made fun of. His ajumma perm is a mix of cotton balls and dried ramen noodles. Why?)
Onward to the recap!
Episode 2

The words “Cha Bong Sun” float around the office and everyone except Jae Hee freezes. Jae Hee doesn’t know the offender’s social security number yet and says he’ll let her know later. Bong Sun shoots him a look of disbelief and asks him to please enlighten her after he finds out. What’s the reason for his complaint? Physical abuse. He rolls up his pants and out comes a shiny, Barney-purple bruise.
Bong Sun retorts that his complaint is too general, so Jae Hee answers her questions: The “when” was yesterday, the “where” was in the cafe across the parking lot, and the “who” was Officer Cha Bong Sun. Maru protests and the supervisor urges the two parties to take it outside.
Bong Sun declares that she warned him about the illegal parking beforehand, but Jae Hee fires back that there should’ve been at least two more warnings out of courtesy. Bong Sun apologizes but says that the law is above common courtesy. Jae Hee offers that even the law gives people three chances.

Bong Sun’s temper meter glows orange as Jae Hee states that she’s not normal: She switches from flaming anger, high-pitched hysteria, and ice-cold indifference at the drop of a hat. Jae Hee analyzes why she’s so angry and comes up with a solution for her: dating. As he makes his way towards the exit, he tells her to buy a bigger bra. Her boobs look like they’ll spill over.
The temper meter finally flashes red and… chomp chomp chomp. It takes three men to get her off of him while Maru cheers his nuna on from the sideline.

We end up in Dr. Park’s office, where Bong Sun confesses that she bit the bastard. Or person. Whatever. The doctor shoots Bong Sun a WTF face at her nonchalance. He asks her what opinion she has of him, and she answers that he’s unusual. He agrees and explains that Bong Sun is also unique and different from others; she’s dealing with a bout of depression. As expected, Bong Sun scoffs at the diagnosis. Depression? She eats well, sleeps a lot, and is perfectly fine fine FINE. No way she’s depressed. She shouts that Dr. Park is the one who’s depressed.
Bong Sun returns to the station to see Jae Hee park a car in the police car lot. He says that he and her supervisor have decided to remain good neighbors, which immediately raises Bong Sun’s suspicions of a give-and-take relationship. She accusingly points out the supervisor’s new designer wallet and swiftly puts an end to any “neighborly” intentions.

Jae Hee later tries to bribe Bong Sun with an expensive lunch. He apologizes for being difficult and in return he won’t sue her for the teeth marks around his wrist. He asks her to let him use the parking lot for two months. She agrees and puts out a hand for a handshake, which Jae Hee eagerly obliges. In a flash, he ends up chained to a chair with Bong Sun’s handcuffs.
He freaks out for a minute and then assumes that this is Bong Sun’s way of showing interest in him because his ego knows no bounds. He inspects her face as she shovels into her mouth and declares that she’s kind of cute. After lunch, Maru and Bong Sun head out for patrol duty, leaving Jae Hee shackled to his wooden friend. At least it’s supportive?

As they walk around a nearby town, Maru asks Bong Sun to wait for him. He likes his sunbaenim but he’s young and needs time to figure out his life if he wants to take care of her. (But. Well. Can’t she take care of you? Isn’t that kind of the point of dating a successful, independent older woman? Maru, you’re pretty enough to be a trophy husband. ::pats head::).
They see a photo shoot in the neighborhood and Maru comments on how cute the model (aka Dal) is. Bong Sun notes his stunned expression and reminds him that he was confessing his feelings to her. Maru replies that he’s still a man and can’t ignore pretty women. Which means Bong Sun can stare at hard-bodied abs too without petty jealousy on your part, right? You know. ‘Cause she’s a woman.

The partners get a call informing them of an emergency “situation”… which just turns out to be a grandpa who wants milk. Aw. They bring banana, strawberry, and chocolate milk to fit his changing tastes. He shares a friendly but bickering relationship with Bong Sun.
Bong Sun asks if Maru knows anyone who is depressed. He says that a girl he dated before was depressed. He can’t find words to describe her, but states that she was the total opposite of Bong Sun. That lifts her spirits so high that she seems to become a different person; she apologizes sweetly as she unlocks Jae Hee’s arm from the chair and passes out coffee to her co-workers cheerfully.
Dal is on her way to return the $3,000 coat she bought before, but ends up changing her mind and wears it on her date with the ballin’ chaebol boy from episode 1. As they kiss outside her apartment building, he pulls the signature ass-hat “hand on leg” move but is promptly denied. She makes up some excuse about her strict father, who is apparently a professor at a university. Rich boy wonders if her father will accept him as a worthy partner for his precious daughter.
 
She gets out of the car but doesn’t enter the apartment building. She ends up going to a dingy boardinghouse and gets badgered by the owner for this month’s rent. Her date walks into the boardinghouse kitchen as she fills her expensive vodka bottle with water, having followed her when he saw that she didn’t enter the apartment building. The two head to the roof for a discussion. He’d been suspicious about her and had double-checked to see if her father was really a professor at Han Guk University. He calls her out on her lies and deems her human trash.
She retorts that he’s the one who’s trash and compares him to a coconut. He may be tough to “crack open,” with his money and background, but there’s nothing for her to “eat” because he’s empty inside. She goes on call him a hypocrite and that he’s no different from her. He liked her for her face and she liked him for his money. Is she less worthy of his affections because she’s suddenly from a mediocre background? She continues to tear down his holier-than-thou attitude, which pricks at his pride. He pushes her down into the trash like the jerkface he is and she retaliates with kicks and screams until she realizes her coat is dirty. She demands that he reimburse her and sinks to the ground crying.

Jae Hee enters his company in his valet uniform and eavesdrops on Hwa Young’s office meeting. He later goes into the handbag store and is rudely asked to leave by one of the employees. If you can’t buy it, don’t touch it. He asks her which bags are selling and which ones aren’t. She scoffs at his question, not knowing that her answer is important for the creation of new products.
Another customer walks in and the snotty employee turns to welcome her but falters after taking one look at the woman’s clothing. The woman is dressed well, but isn’t draped in luxury brands. The store girl continues to look her up and down and scrunches her nose in disgust. The shopper leaves empty-handed and Jae Hee tells the employee to look past appearance; anyone can end up opening up their wallets.

Bong Sun walks into the store to meet the same employee. They’re high school classmates and the store girl asks Bong Sun to meet her cousin who’s trying to become a police officer. He failed the test four times already and is studying for the fifth time. She wants Bong Sun to give him some advice, but Bong Sun turns her down flat.
Bong Sun spits out that she doesn’t like her, which induces a hissy fit from store girl. Store girl snaps that she isn’t fond of Bong Sun either and asks how Bong Sun could say she dislikes her without blinking an eye. Bong Sun returns that closing her eyes would be weirder, and that she hates the girl’s forced “kindness” (which strangely only appears when she needs Bong Sun). Bong Sun also tells her to stop asking probing questions about her love life, salary, and other private affairs. They have a “who’s the bigger bitch” stare down.

Bong Sun meets with Dr. Park again and confesses that she has no friends… but then takes it back when Dr. Park teases her. She snaps that she has an estranged “friend” who expressed glee when Bong Sun’s boyfriend cheated on her. Bong Sun ignores Dr. Park’s question about what happened to the ex-boyfriend, so they move on to the issue of Bong Sun’s depression.
He explains that depression isn’t just feeling sad all the time. It involves a series of mood swings, from extreme elation over one good thing and malicious intent toward someone for making a small mistake. At other times, depressed people ask themselves why they’re living and what they’re living for. He diagnoses her with bipolar disorder.

Dr. Park’s words swirl around Bong Sun’s head as she does some of her own research on the internet at work. She walks around in a funk, and ignores Jae Hee when he enters the station. He asks what she’s looking at, and when Bong Sun scrambles to cover her computer screen, he assumes that she’s watching porn. Haha. He laments that he’s bored because she’s “quiet” and that she’s the cutest when she’s angry, even comparing her to Beyoncé (without the hips and diva-esque voice of course).
She asks if he wants to sleep with her, and he calls her bluff by saying sure. She callshis bluff and starts to unbutton her police shirt. She looks at him with cold, challenging eyes, which prompts Jae Hee to walk over next to her and remove his clothing at a lightning speed. (I find this scene hilarious mostly because he has the body of a little boy…puhaha…)

Just then, Maru walks in to see Jae Hee with nothing on except for his boxers. Maru’s police intuition makes him pull out his gun and the two guys play tag around the station and neighborhood. Maru chases Jae Hee until they end up in a little garden. After a manly tussle, Jae Hee extends a hand and says he can help win Maru win over Bong Sun. However, Maru hesitates and confesses that he’s not sure if he likes her enough to date her.
A strange editing moment brings us abruptly to Jae Hee (who’s dressed up as his rich alter ego) in his apartment as he works on handbag designs. He’s interrupted by Hwa Young and his nephew. The boy had hit another girl in his class, and Hwa Young warns that this is the umpteenth time. Before she leaves, Hwa Young references the half-naked stint around the neighborhood and asks him to take care of his image. He’s still the company’s representative, even if nobody knows it.

The two boys play video games and take a bath, where little Ah In declares that he hit his fat classmate because she annoyed him first. Jae Hee scolds him and says that girls hate being called fat. Ah In declares he hates girls, and Jae Hee promises to hold him to that statement forever. We get a sense that there’s some complicated family history, especially when the boy asks his uncle why they have different surnames. As Jae Hee tucks Ah In into bed, he gently tells him that he’ll explain everything later.

Dal goes to the company where nameless rich boy works and creates a scene in the lobby by crying about what will happen to their baby if he leaves her. He takes her outside and refuses to pay for her coat until she warns him about the power of rumors: They can ruin anybody’s image, regardless if they’re true or not. That makes suit man re-think his decision and Dal ends up $3,000 richer.
She’s later visited by her mom, who’s appalled at the environment her daughter is living in. Mom wants her to move back home, but Dal screeches that she’d rather live poor in the city than in the sticks. They argue about moving out until the person in the next room, who turns out to be the hysterical dumped woman from episode 1, flames them for being loud.
 
A young boy (who’s dressed up like little Gu Jun Pyo) walks into the police station because he’s locked out of his apartment. His mom told him to wait at the station until she comes to pick him up, and Bong Sun offers a small yogurt drink. He rejects the drink, saying he can’t take things from strangers and that the drink is full of sugar anyway. Bong Sun nudges Mr. Smarty-pants on the head and says that kids can get away with eating junk food.
Later, when he calls the citizens of Korea ignorant for not understanding classical music, Bong Sun nudges him again and reminds him that Europeans can’t understand the folk music of his culture. Gah. His pout is adorable. I want to squish him.
A while later, the boy’s mother sweeps into the station, offended at the “physical abuse” Bong Sun applied on her precious baby. Bong Sun tries to calm her down by saying that she nudged him because he was cute. The woman glares at Bong Sun and asks who the supervisor is. She talks down to Bong Sun’s superior and threatens to have him reported to the national police academy for not doing his job properly.

This, predictably, lights Bong Sun’s short fuse. Bong Sun yells at the woman to apologize but gets told off by the chief instead. He tells the supervisor to make that “thing” leave. She storms off and ends up sitting on bench. She looks through her phone for someone to call, but can’t bring herself to communicate anyone. After calling several other emergency numbers, she contacts Dr. Park.
There’s some surface-level bantering until Bong Sun opens up about her feelings.
Bong Sun: Dr. Park. I…really. I really don’t like myself. I wish I wasn’t me. Dr. Park. I really hate myself. I wish I wasn’t me.
She dissolves into tears as Jae Hee looks on.

Comments
I went through the first episode thinking this was going to be a cute, fluffy drama that I could watch to distract me from schoolwork. It took way too long to set up all the relationships and I think we still have a few stray strings that have still have to be tied down. The drama feels sort of like a sitcom because of all the strange, amusing situations that are pieced together, but they’ll probably start to have more meaning as we delve deeper in the backstories of these characters.
Writer Kim always does a great job with creating layers for her characters. It’s the execution of the drama that worries me because on paper all the characters are fantastic. The final casting, acting, and directing seems to keep the drama from capturing people’s attention, but given the time constraint this drama has had to deal with, I’ll willing to just go along for the ride. I do hope that the drama gels together in the upcoming episodes, because there’s a lot of potential for character development.
The last scene is really what solidified my want to recap the drama. Initially, I found Bong Sun to amusing watch, but she was starting to get really screechy near the end of episode 1. I’m so glad I watched the second episode, because now I find myself invested in her. The conversations with Dr. Park were much more engaging and now we have a reason for her rapid mood swings. Her last lines split a crack into her spiky, 100-ton armor and my heart went out to her. She’s dealing with a problem that I think many people can relate to, myself included.
When she sits on the bench, we see that she has nobody to turn to when she’s having a hard time. Her friends want to see her fail, her boyfriend left her for another woman, and her superiors are half-fearful, half exasperated at her antics in the workplace.  She’s constantly complaining about how other people are antagonistic towards her. Her extreme mood swings tell a lot about the way she feels about herself and why she reacts the way she does in certain situations. So why is she so anti-social?

Her cold demeanor seems to be her first weapon of defense. It makes her hard to approach and it gives her an authoritative aura that works perfectly for her career. She enforces the law and is used to telling people what to do, which makes her seem more confident and knowledgeable than she actually is.
Her second, and probably most effective mode of defense, is her uncontrollable anger. She’s a ticking time bomb and any little thing sets her off, which makes “normal” people uncomfortable around her. I can understand and even sympathize with her point of view in many of the situations where she loses her temper; it’s the way she handles the issues that keep people from supporting her. Bong Sun’s good intentions are lost when all people see is a blaze of hate and aggression. Blowing up at people prevents them from hurting her first.
Jae Hee, then, is imperative to Bong Sun’s growth as a character because he seems to be the only one who can get under her skin. We don’t know much about his back story, but he seems to be one of the more carefree characters. He’s bored with his life, which is why Bong Sun fascinates him. Jae Hee has never met with anyone like Bong Sun and her difficult personality doesn’t scare him away. Bong Sun stimulates him in a way he doesn’t fully understand, and it’s telling that he’s the first one (besides Dr. Park) to notice her vulnerable side.
Bong Sun wants a relatively simple thing: to be accepted. When Maru tells her that his ex-girlfriend is nothing like Bong Sun, she becomes eerily happy. Maru’s response means she’s not “abnormal”; he doesn’t see her as a depressed, clingy wet rag and accepts her for who she is. However, Dr. Park’s diagnosis later rocks her boat. She has a disorder, and it’s affecting her life in a variety of ways that she can’t control. She has to face the fact that she’s not normal and has a “problem”. Bong Sun’s confession to Dr. Park shows a promise towards healing her self-esteem, but she has a long way to go towards recovery.
Depression, or any psychological disorder, is rarely discussed in public in Korea. I had a discussion with my cousins when I was in Korea last year about depression because we had just seen the news about Park Yong Ha passing away. They said that depression is usually swept under the rug because it’s a disease. The implication is that you’re not a healthy, normal person who can function properly in society, which is why many celebrities hide the fact that they’re dealing with depression. More and more people are opening up about their struggles with it and it’s certainly an important issue that needs to be discussed, which is why I’m happily surprised that writer Kim has decided to explore the journey of depression. I don’t know how other people feel about it, but I’m just glad that it’s been given a thoughtful interpretation so far.

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