EPISODES 9-10 WEECAP
Crazy Love might lean 100% into the ridiculous, but it’s also doing a nice job of moving its plot along in a way that makes sense for the characters. It’s dripping in tropes and it’s also predictable… but in a way that’s also the fun. And for me, the icing on the cake is Kim Jae-wook. He’s selling it all, from the abandonment complex, to falling for his secretary, to the super exaggerated reactions and hijinks.
We pick up after the evening gown smoocheroo, which was more spicy than I was expecting it to be — and our players obviously feel the same. Shin-ah is upset, Go-jin is hot and bothered, and neither of them seem to know what they’re feeling yet. Go-jin apologizes (eventually quite genuinely) and erases her debt in order to pay her back for the lie kiss (a.k.a. the most expensive three seconds ever). But no matter how hard they try to smooth their kiss over in business transaction terms, something’s still up.
Where the drama feels quite weak is in building its backstory — only now, more than half way through, are we really getting a peek at Go-jin and Soo-young’s past love, or even of Go-jin and Se-gi’s hard-working bromancey years building up the company. In order to feel the shattering of those things as much as Go-jin does, it would have helped us to know more about these relationships earlier, I think. Instead, we just have to take the drama’s word for it.
The Soo-young storyline is ramping up, and she’s in I’ll-take-you-back-whether-you-want-me-to-or-not mode (though I’ll give her a few grains of forgiveness since she truly does believe this is just because he has amnesia). Still, I liked it better when she was less desperate femme fatale and more cool plot-disrupting unni.
Soo-young goes so far as to hint to Go-jin of their past, to try to win his heart back by demanding dates, and to threaten to tell Shin-ah about their past relationship. Go-jin doesn’t seem to care (still so wounded from her “noble” abandonment of him), and I don’t think I do much either.
Slightly more compelling is the Se-gi storyline, where we’re now seeing him hatch and carry out all of his backstabbing plans. My initial disappointment over him being the bad guy has faded, because I like how it’s evolving into a game of cat and mouse. Except ye olde mouse (Se-gi) doesn’t know the cat is onto his game.
Genius Go-jin quickly catches on (with the watch face as the starting point), and even though we see a lot of Go-jin playing Se-gi’s game, I also like that the drama takes the time to show us how this affects him emotionally.
While Se-gi is busying BSing in Go-jin’s office, Go-jin says abruptly, “I saw you.” He means the night of his hit-and-run, but plays it off as something else — even as we hear his internal monologue about how betrayed he feels (and rightly so). Later, he even quietly weeps in the wake of this betrayal, and it’s not only a strong emotional moment for Go-jin’s character, but we see him relying on Shin-ah for comfort, even if it’s just holding her hand for a minute.
And so, slowly but surely, Go-jin realizes — and we along with him — that Shin-ah is the only one that’s stood by him all this time. Even when things started off as a mere revenge game between the two, she always acted out of concern for his well being, and we’ve seen that over and over again. Shin-ah herself might not even understand it, but as we reach the romantic awakening arc of our story, she’s even more conscious of him, and he of her.
For instance, Shin-ah knows when it’s his grandmother’s memorial anniversary, and prepares the entire thing; and for Go-jin, even when he faces another murder attempt, it’s his savior Shin-ah that he’s worried about first. Basically, their actions are revealing how much they care about each other, and now it’s just time for their brains to catch up.
Go-jin realizes it first, and right along with his personality, finds all these petty reasons and excuses to keep her around him at all times. When she’s gone, he feels her absence keenly, and it’s something we can pick up on too: when Shin-ah is around he has a home-cooked meal and warm companionship; when she’s gone it’s all echoey house and cold cereal for dinner. (Side note: How fun to have a K-drama heroine that can cook for a change!)
This week’s episodes were enjoyable because of the phase of romance we’re up to, and all the fun tropes we get as a consequence of that — like my personal favorite, when the couple is forced into close proximity in an elevator. But the tropes don’t stop, and Go-jin also saves Shin-ah from the flour bombs of his angry high school fangirls. He also talks to the potato that he’s now befriended and situated on his desk — as talking to inanimate objects is another common behavior for K-drama heroes in love.
The other high note for me was how the Se-gi plot line so quickly escalated after we see him get suspicious of Go-jin really having amnesia. This is actually quite necessary for the plot, because it’s getting to the point where Se-gi relying on Go-jin’s amnesia to get away with his evil plotting is a bit silly. So, Se-gi needing to test this not only legitimizes his villain status, but ups the ante in their battle.
Se-gi prepares the ultimate test of Go-jin’s amnesia: he offers him a peach slice, which Go-jin is actually deathly allergic to (and only a few people know this). Go-jin has a moment where he has to decide what to do, and it’s quite true to character that rather than expose himself to Se-gi, he chooses to eat the peach and go into anaphylactic shock.
The conclusion is that Se-gi is completely convinced of the amnesia, and Go-jin is completely sure that Se-gi is his attempted murderer (also that keeping his amnesia cover is essential until he can expose Se-gi).
Sadly, the other conclusion of this deadly peach slice is that even though the faithful Shin-ah is at his side yet again, Go-jin’s self-preservation instinct kicks in. He’s been abandoned by every other person in his life, and so rather than have that repeat with Shin-ah — which he believes is inevitable since he’s falling in love with her — he cuts her loose. As in, torn up contract, get out of my life, “You’re fired!” sort of cutting loose.
Luckily the drama doesn’t leave us hanging on this note for more than about five minutes. Shin-ah is inexplicably sad even though she tells herself to rejoice that the whole scenario is over. Meanwhile, Go-jin is grieving her departure from his life and household… but then he finds the diary she accidentally left behind. He reads something there that makes him bolt out of the house to find her. And when he does find her — in his office saying mental goodbyes, no less — he won’t let her leave. “Let’s date,” he says. Swoon~
Not to jinx anything for this drama and the level of satisfaction I felt with this week’s episodes, but what I’m dying to see happen is Go-jin and Shin-ah join forces and plot a counter-plot against Se-gi. I’m not sure if Go-jin thinks she’s terminally ill now, or if he just realized her sincerity, but either way this show managed to convince me that we need them together, stat.