DianaScott
To All The Boys
This retelling of the 2000-year-old fairy-tale takes a post-modern twist as Cinderella stops on the way to the castle for a medical degree, and is rewarded with not only her Prince Charming but her purpose. Some reviewers complain about the cliché and common tropes, but this is like a Tyler Perry play; it swings from cartoonish to deadly serious social commentary all the while showcasing the many talents of its players. Cinderella has the loving supportive family and the resulting intact ego, while Prince Charming has an evil biological mother and not only suffers from the child abuse of emotional neglect, but the slavery of being a commodity that can be sold.
Ah the boys… They are flesh and blood art. At times the acting is so poignant the you want to reach through the screen and comfort them. BOF is a master class in how to photograph men. The men in this are so beautiful that I frequently paused the TV so I could stare at them until I was full. There are moments in this where the framing, the rack focus and tracking shots are so perfect, so perfectly timed, so smooth, it takes your breath away. Lee Min-Ho’s reflection in the water droplet covered mirror, with his wet hair slick to the point of his jaw, water shower foreground, Rembrandt lighting….Excuse me while I pour ice on myself to cool down (Ep 2: 47:50 – why does it seem I’m quoting scripture?).
The men’s fashion in BOF influenced menswear all over Asia and beyond. And we got to see an entire year’s collection: every possible type of sportswear, formal, bridal, winter, summer, spring. The plot seems to make excuses to showcase the fashion. The women’s fashion was, well, ahem…. The Min Seo Hyun character wears an outfit that looks like someone stuck road kill on the front of an ill-fitting gray sack. Jan-Di wears a dress to the final pool party that looks like window curtains and is perhaps homage to Bob Mackie’s Scarlet O’hara creation in the Carol Burnett Show’s Gone with the Wind skit. But hey, the girls are the moral compass, the towers of strength, the unyielding morale, the mortals who when plan A fails have plan B, C, and D – and I guess these women didn’t need to out shine the G-ds in the fashion department.
BOF has the fairy-tale constructs, but also deconstructions, and it occasionally mirrors the dramas of modern-day royals. There are damsels in distress for the boys to rescue, but it also has Jan-Di as savior to the damoiseau in distress. The women occasionally swoon, but so do the men. One of the subplots reminds the viewers what happens when Prince Charming marries the Proper Princess vs the woman he loves. Ha Jae Kyung (princess Diana) saves herself from being the unloved, bulimic, trophy-wife by bowing out to Camilla (Jan-Di) and Charles (Jun-Pyo) (all good fairy-tale teach a lesson).
The character acting was outstanding. Lee Hye-yeong’s evil witch Kang Hee Soo is less Margaret Hamilton and more like Alan Rickman’s slowed, cold, steely delivery. Jeong Ho-bin’s secretary Jung Sang Rok is the on the surface the obedient servant to Hee Soo, but whose deviant intend is shown through thoughts behind his eyes and the most subtle of facial expressions.
There is an interesting construct that Jan-Di gets her husband Jun-Pyo, but also her soul mate Ji-Hoo. The love triangle is not solved by choosing one and discarding the other. Some women in the states have a husband and a gay “husband.” These friendships with this second man often go beyond being someone’s lover to being something deeper, longer lasting, and more satisfying. In BOF ji-Hoo and Jan-Di share a profession and a close friendship, but he is heterosexual and a former suitor. Are friendships like this possible? I hope so. Perhaps more than Cinderella marrying Prince Charming keeping both men is this fairy-tales magical event.
Other reviews were irritated by the soap opera conventions ie: selective amnesia, multiple kidnappings, (chloroform must be widely available in Korea), sudden appearances of yet another rival. Some of the plot features are repetitive: 5 near drownings (6 if you count Jun-Pyo childhood flash back). I could blather on about plot problems, continuity issues, gaffs and blunders, but I won’t because despite its problems there is something so joyful and fun about this series that sharp criticism feels like disrespecting a good friend. I started watching this again with a five-year-old and he tells me to read it to him (the subtitles – thank you translator for leaving in some Korean words: sunbae, noona etc). He enjoys the parts with the goofier acting. He gets some of the stereotypical characters (the mean girls, the evil mother). He comments on the fashion and hairdos. And he, like all the flower boys, loves Jan-Di and so do I.
Ah the boys… They are flesh and blood art. At times the acting is so poignant the you want to reach through the screen and comfort them. BOF is a master class in how to photograph men. The men in this are so beautiful that I frequently paused the TV so I could stare at them until I was full. There are moments in this where the framing, the rack focus and tracking shots are so perfect, so perfectly timed, so smooth, it takes your breath away. Lee Min-Ho’s reflection in the water droplet covered mirror, with his wet hair slick to the point of his jaw, water shower foreground, Rembrandt lighting….Excuse me while I pour ice on myself to cool down (Ep 2: 47:50 – why does it seem I’m quoting scripture?).
The men’s fashion in BOF influenced menswear all over Asia and beyond. And we got to see an entire year’s collection: every possible type of sportswear, formal, bridal, winter, summer, spring. The plot seems to make excuses to showcase the fashion. The women’s fashion was, well, ahem…. The Min Seo Hyun character wears an outfit that looks like someone stuck road kill on the front of an ill-fitting gray sack. Jan-Di wears a dress to the final pool party that looks like window curtains and is perhaps homage to Bob Mackie’s Scarlet O’hara creation in the Carol Burnett Show’s Gone with the Wind skit. But hey, the girls are the moral compass, the towers of strength, the unyielding morale, the mortals who when plan A fails have plan B, C, and D – and I guess these women didn’t need to out shine the G-ds in the fashion department.
BOF has the fairy-tale constructs, but also deconstructions, and it occasionally mirrors the dramas of modern-day royals. There are damsels in distress for the boys to rescue, but it also has Jan-Di as savior to the damoiseau in distress. The women occasionally swoon, but so do the men. One of the subplots reminds the viewers what happens when Prince Charming marries the Proper Princess vs the woman he loves. Ha Jae Kyung (princess Diana) saves herself from being the unloved, bulimic, trophy-wife by bowing out to Camilla (Jan-Di) and Charles (Jun-Pyo) (all good fairy-tale teach a lesson).
The character acting was outstanding. Lee Hye-yeong’s evil witch Kang Hee Soo is less Margaret Hamilton and more like Alan Rickman’s slowed, cold, steely delivery. Jeong Ho-bin’s secretary Jung Sang Rok is the on the surface the obedient servant to Hee Soo, but whose deviant intend is shown through thoughts behind his eyes and the most subtle of facial expressions.
There is an interesting construct that Jan-Di gets her husband Jun-Pyo, but also her soul mate Ji-Hoo. The love triangle is not solved by choosing one and discarding the other. Some women in the states have a husband and a gay “husband.” These friendships with this second man often go beyond being someone’s lover to being something deeper, longer lasting, and more satisfying. In BOF ji-Hoo and Jan-Di share a profession and a close friendship, but he is heterosexual and a former suitor. Are friendships like this possible? I hope so. Perhaps more than Cinderella marrying Prince Charming keeping both men is this fairy-tales magical event.
Other reviews were irritated by the soap opera conventions ie: selective amnesia, multiple kidnappings, (chloroform must be widely available in Korea), sudden appearances of yet another rival. Some of the plot features are repetitive: 5 near drownings (6 if you count Jun-Pyo childhood flash back). I could blather on about plot problems, continuity issues, gaffs and blunders, but I won’t because despite its problems there is something so joyful and fun about this series that sharp criticism feels like disrespecting a good friend. I started watching this again with a five-year-old and he tells me to read it to him (the subtitles – thank you translator for leaving in some Korean words: sunbae, noona etc). He enjoys the parts with the goofier acting. He gets some of the stereotypical characters (the mean girls, the evil mother). He comments on the fashion and hairdos. And he, like all the flower boys, loves Jan-Di and so do I.
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