3
Thoughtful and compelling character study...with a few flaws
Definitely a worthwhile series, albeit with flaws. Below, I outline three sharp criticisms where I think the writing stumbled. None of these missteps is fatal to the story or characters. Definitely a case where the flaws cause a series to fall short of potential greatness rather than stumble into becoming a misfire on every level. Throughout, the acting, directing, and writing (script/diaog) are mostly high quality. The flaws highlighted below owe to writing choices (story structure, story direction, character development) that I believe undercut this series' chance to rank among the all-time greats.
Three criticisms:
1. The high school era was more interesting than the adult era.
The series occupies two timelines in the characters lives. But the tone of the series is not consistent between the two, with the result that the first few episodes wind up way more satisfying than the back half of the set .
-- First: Two boys wounded by family, stuck in unpleasant circumstances. Finding their way toward solace by finding their way toward one another. That is a damn good premise for a BL romance. And our young protagonists had a good thing cooking, too. Enough character, story, and emotion introduced in eps 1-2 to sustain a whole series. Instead, the writers chose a time jump prior to working through all that potential.
--Second: Two adults wounded by their past. Placing obstacles in the way of their own solace. That is a damn poor premise for any romance, BL or otherwise. And the behavior exhibited by our older protagonists induced this viewer to contemplate in multiple episodes whether these two humans belonged together at all.
--Conclusion: At some level, the bipartite storytelling does work. And yet. Because the later episodes prove far less compelling than the earlier episodes, the result is a series where both timelines underperform the potential baked into the characters and story. Again, to reiterate: not fatal flaws! Still a compelling series.
2. That was the most preposterous time jump any BL series has ever foisted off on viewers.
--12 years? Really? To Be clear, I don't mind the length of this jump. Indeed, the idea that high school sweethearts reconnect in their early 30s could easily supply a premise around which to build a whole series. I'd totally watch that. Rather, it is the execution of the time jump that bothers me.
--During the intervening decade, the two individuals ought to have lived some life, grown into new people. I mean being an adult ("adulting") changes people, and these guys had a decade of adult responsibility under their belts that their younger selves did not have. Even if the reunion rekindled dormant feelings, the vibe should feel like two near-strangers starting fresh--because none of us at 30 is the same person we were at 18.
--Characters ought to adjust to "Who Are We Now?" Here, it is as if both characters have been in stasis since high school. Pining away for one another yet not reconnecting. Apparently (and we must surmise, for the writing reveals very little about how the two protagonists spent their decade apart), neither of them moved past the other. Neither experienced any intervening romances to provide the sort of life/love experience 18 year Olds didnt have. They do not reunite as older, wiser versions of their younger selves but as emotional cripples stunted in growth at 18. No more savvy about love at 30 than as callow teens. Did either of these guys grow at all? It's like the writing forgot that people change, for the characters seem to be just as they were before the time jump. Just with jobs now.
--I am all for reigniting the lost flames of a youthful passion. But not for wasting the entirety of one's 20's hoping to maybe, one day, rekindle a past flame that did not work out in the first place. These guys missed out on a lot of "adventures" people in their 20s typically stumble into, through, and beyond. Then, after 12 years apart, trying to pick up where you left off? No no no. These two should re-start as strangers. So to reiterate: my gripe here isn't the exorbitant length of this time jump--in fact, its decade+ span is kind of faring. Rather, I object to the illogical way in which the writing fills in the gaps.
Note 1: The series hired two actors roughly 25 years old to play the same characters at age 18 and age 30. While that tactic of "splitting the difference" does work visually in the sense these actors can believably play either age, it is nonetheless jarring to see "Twelve Years Later" pop up on screen and have the actors look as if no time has passed. (The make up folks dyed Dad's hair gray. So, we know the production team realizes people age!) As much as I admire the performances of these actors, I think a time jump of this magnitude warranted recasting the parts because that would have emphasized the natural growth humans experience in transitioning from impulsive but callow youths to responsible adults. Here, the actors' non-aging just added to my sense that these two characters got stuck in high school. (See above.) Because visually, "no change" is what comes across.
Note 2: The obvious BL story that comes to mind with a comparable time jump is the chronological gulf between His: I Didn't Think I Would Fall in Love (Japan, 2019 [series]) and His (Japan, 2020 [film]). That production team did re-cast the TV actors for the movie sequel. Like the second half of LFTHCOT, the film plot also depicts the rekindling of a dormant romance, one also spoiled when one party abandoned the other long ago. But the older versions of those characters had to work to rebuild trust. Neither presumes they can simply resume their former relationship where it left off. In that telling, their present-day situations mattered more than the shadows of the past. His (film) is one if the best "gay men overcome obstacles to create family" stories I have seen from any continent or any decade. Playing the time jump effectively is one reason why. The missing and unseen years had an impact on the characters that added depth to that story, even if the viewer is not privy to everything that happened in that time. Those writers understood that a decade of adulting changes people profoundly.
3. The fraud subplot was unnecessary.
--Sometimes writers fall victim to a temptation to layer additional challenges into their story. ("What new horrors can I inflict on these characters to ratchet up the stakes?") Often, simpler is better; editing, warranted. Here, the fraud adds nothing to the character of Do Hoe. His story was already compelling.
--Indeed, it may have become more poignant if every detail stayed except the fraud. Dreams shriveled (like a raisin in the sun) supply ample basis for tragedy without introducing criminality into the mix. Explore that concept without destroying the character's moral character. If his personal demons had driven him to suffer in silence rather than choose overt criminality, a compelling emotional journey is still at hand. Criminal fraud, in fact, makes any character less sympathetic even if his motives are well-explained, which these were not. Adequately explained and justified--yes. But "adequate" falls short of "well-", just as I rate Let Free falls short of elite status. The character had many burdens already, and this self-inflicted gaffe demeans everything his younger self hoped to accomplish.
In summation, Let Free is a very good series. Certainly, worth one's time to watch. And the ending eventually proves sweet and affirming. Flaws in story structure undercut the bid for greatness, as does the too common penchant to withhold information from the reviewers via editing. Here, flashbacks in the penultimate and finale to the high school timeline fill in missing information help us to understand why each character behaves as he does after the time jump. But honestly, the middle episodes would have been far less frustrating if those details had been in the open earlier. Handled properly, the romantic story would play as a tragedy rather than the stunted, slow-burn mystery tale we got.
Three criticisms:
1. The high school era was more interesting than the adult era.
The series occupies two timelines in the characters lives. But the tone of the series is not consistent between the two, with the result that the first few episodes wind up way more satisfying than the back half of the set .
-- First: Two boys wounded by family, stuck in unpleasant circumstances. Finding their way toward solace by finding their way toward one another. That is a damn good premise for a BL romance. And our young protagonists had a good thing cooking, too. Enough character, story, and emotion introduced in eps 1-2 to sustain a whole series. Instead, the writers chose a time jump prior to working through all that potential.
--Second: Two adults wounded by their past. Placing obstacles in the way of their own solace. That is a damn poor premise for any romance, BL or otherwise. And the behavior exhibited by our older protagonists induced this viewer to contemplate in multiple episodes whether these two humans belonged together at all.
--Conclusion: At some level, the bipartite storytelling does work. And yet. Because the later episodes prove far less compelling than the earlier episodes, the result is a series where both timelines underperform the potential baked into the characters and story. Again, to reiterate: not fatal flaws! Still a compelling series.
2. That was the most preposterous time jump any BL series has ever foisted off on viewers.
--12 years? Really? To Be clear, I don't mind the length of this jump. Indeed, the idea that high school sweethearts reconnect in their early 30s could easily supply a premise around which to build a whole series. I'd totally watch that. Rather, it is the execution of the time jump that bothers me.
--During the intervening decade, the two individuals ought to have lived some life, grown into new people. I mean being an adult ("adulting") changes people, and these guys had a decade of adult responsibility under their belts that their younger selves did not have. Even if the reunion rekindled dormant feelings, the vibe should feel like two near-strangers starting fresh--because none of us at 30 is the same person we were at 18.
--Characters ought to adjust to "Who Are We Now?" Here, it is as if both characters have been in stasis since high school. Pining away for one another yet not reconnecting. Apparently (and we must surmise, for the writing reveals very little about how the two protagonists spent their decade apart), neither of them moved past the other. Neither experienced any intervening romances to provide the sort of life/love experience 18 year Olds didnt have. They do not reunite as older, wiser versions of their younger selves but as emotional cripples stunted in growth at 18. No more savvy about love at 30 than as callow teens. Did either of these guys grow at all? It's like the writing forgot that people change, for the characters seem to be just as they were before the time jump. Just with jobs now.
--I am all for reigniting the lost flames of a youthful passion. But not for wasting the entirety of one's 20's hoping to maybe, one day, rekindle a past flame that did not work out in the first place. These guys missed out on a lot of "adventures" people in their 20s typically stumble into, through, and beyond. Then, after 12 years apart, trying to pick up where you left off? No no no. These two should re-start as strangers. So to reiterate: my gripe here isn't the exorbitant length of this time jump--in fact, its decade+ span is kind of faring. Rather, I object to the illogical way in which the writing fills in the gaps.
Note 1: The series hired two actors roughly 25 years old to play the same characters at age 18 and age 30. While that tactic of "splitting the difference" does work visually in the sense these actors can believably play either age, it is nonetheless jarring to see "Twelve Years Later" pop up on screen and have the actors look as if no time has passed. (The make up folks dyed Dad's hair gray. So, we know the production team realizes people age!) As much as I admire the performances of these actors, I think a time jump of this magnitude warranted recasting the parts because that would have emphasized the natural growth humans experience in transitioning from impulsive but callow youths to responsible adults. Here, the actors' non-aging just added to my sense that these two characters got stuck in high school. (See above.) Because visually, "no change" is what comes across.
Note 2: The obvious BL story that comes to mind with a comparable time jump is the chronological gulf between His: I Didn't Think I Would Fall in Love (Japan, 2019 [series]) and His (Japan, 2020 [film]). That production team did re-cast the TV actors for the movie sequel. Like the second half of LFTHCOT, the film plot also depicts the rekindling of a dormant romance, one also spoiled when one party abandoned the other long ago. But the older versions of those characters had to work to rebuild trust. Neither presumes they can simply resume their former relationship where it left off. In that telling, their present-day situations mattered more than the shadows of the past. His (film) is one if the best "gay men overcome obstacles to create family" stories I have seen from any continent or any decade. Playing the time jump effectively is one reason why. The missing and unseen years had an impact on the characters that added depth to that story, even if the viewer is not privy to everything that happened in that time. Those writers understood that a decade of adulting changes people profoundly.
3. The fraud subplot was unnecessary.
--Sometimes writers fall victim to a temptation to layer additional challenges into their story. ("What new horrors can I inflict on these characters to ratchet up the stakes?") Often, simpler is better; editing, warranted. Here, the fraud adds nothing to the character of Do Hoe. His story was already compelling.
--Indeed, it may have become more poignant if every detail stayed except the fraud. Dreams shriveled (like a raisin in the sun) supply ample basis for tragedy without introducing criminality into the mix. Explore that concept without destroying the character's moral character. If his personal demons had driven him to suffer in silence rather than choose overt criminality, a compelling emotional journey is still at hand. Criminal fraud, in fact, makes any character less sympathetic even if his motives are well-explained, which these were not. Adequately explained and justified--yes. But "adequate" falls short of "well-", just as I rate Let Free falls short of elite status. The character had many burdens already, and this self-inflicted gaffe demeans everything his younger self hoped to accomplish.
In summation, Let Free is a very good series. Certainly, worth one's time to watch. And the ending eventually proves sweet and affirming. Flaws in story structure undercut the bid for greatness, as does the too common penchant to withhold information from the reviewers via editing. Here, flashbacks in the penultimate and finale to the high school timeline fill in missing information help us to understand why each character behaves as he does after the time jump. But honestly, the middle episodes would have been far less frustrating if those details had been in the open earlier. Handled properly, the romantic story would play as a tragedy rather than the stunted, slow-burn mystery tale we got.
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