Short & Sweet: K-drama's Snackable TV
I still haven’t removed “Hello, My Twenties” from my Netflix list. I don’t know when I will.
I browsed my list the other day, removing some titles that intrigued me at one time. They made the list, but didn’t make the cut. But when the cursor lands on “Hello, My Twenties” the plot and the acting come flooding in. And I smile, simultaneously tilting my head ever so slightly to the right. There’s just one problem with the post-adolescence coming of age series – it’s too short.
Or is it?
It’s only 16 episodes long. Korean TV shows (Kdramas) commonly last one season, consisting of a few episodes – sometimes 12 or 16 or 20.
That’s the antithesis to the American TV show format.
For the most part, the U.S. TV industry is known for its pursuit of series longevity. The industry has teased out a thirst for it. American audiences expect a near infinite relationship with our favorite characters.
Of course there’s something to be said for being able to captivate an audience for years and years. I mean I can imagine having one season of The Office or The Walking Dead, but I don't want to. Some things need space to breathe (or not breathe in the case of walkers). The Simpsons is the longest running prime time U.S. TV show with more than 600 episodes in over of 28 years!
But the 16-episode season possesses charm too.
Perhaps the strength of the short TV show season is in its ability to draw attention to the Korean TV industry rather than keeping audiences locked in to a particular series long term. Maybe it’s an exercise in discipline. Like the kind it takes to write a good haiku or maintain a rhyme scheme without creating a nonsense piece.
It reminds me of that staple of composition instruction: the five-paragraph essay. If genius is to be displayed it must be done within an introduction, a three-part body and a conclusion. Raise your hand if you were able to escape English class without producing at least one essay based on this formulaic guide.
Some English teachers and scholars believe that the five-paragraph essay is too restrictive. Their concern is that many fledgling writers laser-focus on replicating the form rather than polishing the content.
They argue that students don't strive to support their thesis statements in a concise and cohesive way more than they want to be able to say “look, there they are ... five paragraphs."
But like students, show writers who are able to reconcile the space and content dilemma find a sweet spot. They produce something worth viewing, highlight the benefits of working within the confined space of a very short TV series.
Korean drama “Hello, My Twenties" gets it right. All the pieces work together to make an entertaining show. Here's how the show did it.
Brief show summary:
The main cast, five twenty-something women, converge on the Belle Epoque apartment building as a new college semester begins. Interacting with their new roommates and navigating the ups and downs of life pushes each of them to carve out brighter futures and build strong friendships. Each episode is roughly 60 minutes long. Enough time to grasp who the characters are and get a sense of where the story is headed while injecting a bit of intrigue. Of course each episode ends with a cliffhanger.
Main characters:
- Yoon Jin-Myung: the serious and focused one
- Yoo Eun-Jae: the quiet freshman
- Jung Ye-Eun: the fashion-focused and insecure one
- Kang Ye-Na: the attractive and mysterious one
- Song Ji-Won: the eccentric extrovert
What really moves the plot along is Song Ji-Won's spur of the moment fabrication of a ghostly entity who she claims resides in the apartment with them– a move that inadvertently forces each woman to confront her past and reevaluate her future. Each woman thinks it’s the presence of someone from her past seeking retribution. “Hello, My Twenties" is a roller coaster ride that brings the landscapes of humor, fear, failure and friendship into full view.
A Note on the Magnetic Text of International Films: Subtitles
Some people see “subtitles” and their interest in a movie goes from 100 to 0 in seconds. I, on the other hand, I am usually twirling on the inside like frauline Maria in the opening scene of Sound of Music. I don’t shy away from the work it takes to juggle between image and text or overcome the slight annoyance from having to pause or rewind when the actors speak too quickly. I choose to do the work because I value the pay off: International movies are a portal into new cultural terrain. I've even managed to pick up a few words.
The subtitles in “Hello, My Twenties” are on point. There are no awkward phrasings and no need to assume what the translator really meant.
The Intro. is Short and Sweet
The intro is a quick and catchy theme song.
It's a quirky, bouncy jingle that's supposed to make you happy and excited to watch the next episode. It works.
Character development:
The character arcs are full-bodied. A least one full episode walks the audience through the main characters’ family history, motivations and actions. Even the supporting characters are more than bare bones.
The drama maximizes its time allotment by seizing another opportunity for character development. Rather than simply playing an outro song and showing highlighted scenes from the episode during the parade of names at the end (read: credits), the writers use that time to do mini character interviews.
Someone behind the camera asks the character in the hot seat questions about their motives and actions during the episode. This technique keeps the viewer engaged until the very end. Smartly, the interviews don’t give anything away, they help to confirm suspicions about the characters and further build suspense.
The writers did what great writers do: they make suspension of disbelief an easy task. The actors pulled the characters off the page and made them believable. I believe that the show got such great reviews partly because viewers were able to see themselves or someone they know in the characters.
When episode 16 ended that cheesy smile I mentioned in paragraph one emerged.
More please.
