Nueng—Why? Just... Why?

After watching the trailer for this drama, I wasn’t particularly thrilled about it. But, as fate would have it, it was the only title my friend (who’s still in high school and a full decade younger than me—this will be important later) hadn’t seen. So, we decided to give it a whirl during the weekend, because what else were we going to do? Read? Pfft.

To my surprise, the cinematography, script, and acting were far better than expected. In fact, it wasn’t until episode 8 that I realized the actor playing Maze was Singhto—yes, Kongpob from SOTUS. Both male leads deliver solid performances, though the chemistry between them is... let’s say, lukewarm. Phap, in particular, often steals the spotlight, leaving poor Maze feeling like the sidekick in his own drama.

Now, when it comes to story, I’m a firm believer that great storytelling can salvage even the most chaotic script. And in Paint With Love, we have a script that occasionally veers into “what on earth just happened?” territory—there are moments that simply don’t add up. Yet, somehow, the storytelling manages to make the show enjoyable. It’s like watching a juggler who drops every third ball, but still keeps you entertained.

But the real kicker? The vastly different reactions my friend and I had to this series. She didn’t like the main couple at all—particularly Maze—and thought the plot was, well, a bit of a train wreck. Cue our in-depth discussion (as one does when avoiding actual responsibilities), and I realized the difference came down to life experience and, perhaps, a little thing called reading between the lines.

You see, she’s younger than me and prefers her characters to be either black or white. But the characters in this series are fifty shades of grey—no, not that kind of grey. They have strengths, weaknesses, and, most importantly, they’re flawed in deeply human ways. Phap’s jealousy of Nueng, for example, isn’t just a shallow plot point—it’s fueled by his insecurities, feeling like a stand-in for Maze’s past love. Maze, on the other hand, is grappling with his need for control, money, and his belief that he knows what’s best for others (spoiler: he doesn’t). He’s like that person who assumes they can fix everyone’s problems but ends up making a glorious mess of things.

One of the more poignant moments in the story is Maze’s flashback to his fight with Nueng. Maze opposed Nueng’s decisions because he believed he knew better, which led to them losing contact for years. There’s even a tearful begging scene where Maze asks Nueng to stay with him, which, let’s be honest, raises a few questions about their communication skills. Maze’s subsequent determination to send Phap to Japan is a desperate attempt to avoid making the same mistake again. He’s terrified of stifling someone’s potential—kind of like forcing Stephen King to write ad copy instead of novels. In his mind, maybe if he pushes Phap to follow his dreams, he won’t lose him too.

“If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, they’re yours,” as the saying goes, though in Maze’s case, it’s more like “If you love someone, push them out the door before they start packing.”

What makes this series fascinating (and frustrating) is that everything Maze and Phap do makes sense in character. But, depending on how well you read between the lines, your perception of them can wildly differ. It’s like solving a puzzle, except half the pieces are missing, and the picture on the box isn’t much help.

Now, let’s talk about Nueng, or as I like to call him, “the character that makes you ask, ‘Why is he here?’” Bland doesn’t even begin to cover it. He’s like a slice of plain toast in a show that’s already lacking butter. And then he gets worse—eventually morphing into a character who hides his selfishness behind a mask of kindness. If the screenwriters had cut his storyline entirely and given us more insight into Maze and Phap’s motivations, the show would’ve been stronger for it. Nueng’s relationship with Maze? Bizarre, at best. His absence, his manager hitting Tharn’s manager, and all the trouble it caused was just a super messed-up subplot that added nothing but confusion.

It honestly feels like Nueng’s storyline was hastily slapped in at the last minute, which would explain why it feels more like a plot hole than a plot point.

In conclusion, Paint with Love is a show with strong points and weak ones, depending on how much you're willing to squint and interpret the subtext. A rewatch might help clarify a few things, but I suspect it will also remind you that Nueng was just there to test our patience. And trust me, I will remember very little about him in six months. But overall, it’s a decent watch if you don’t mind filling in some blanks yourself.