This review may contain spoilers
Hauntingly fun, until episode 5 - a narrative fraud
Let’s call this show, "I See Dead People.” A woman sees recently departed spirits seeking justice. Yes, the premise is essentially The Sixth Sense meets a police procedural. But it's an entertaining concept, and after two episodes, this K-drama already looks like a winner.
The cast is exceptionally charismatic, and the central storyline is easy to embrace: a psychic and a detective join forces to solve murders while a number of intriguing subplots begin to unfold.
Of course, part of the fun of watching K-dramas is spotting the plot holes. And this series appears determined to provide plenty of them.
Spoiler Alert: Stop reading if you haven't watched Episode Two.
The show's first major case involves a professional golfer accused of murdering his girlfriend. He's acquitted because prosecutors never recover the body.
A flashback reveals what actually happened. Around 6:00 p.m., the couple argues in a hotel room. During the struggle, the woman falls, strikes her head on the wooden bed frame, and dies. Panicking, the golfer flees, leaving blood behind.
Later, he hatches an elaborate plan. After photographing a flight attendant leaving the airport, he offers her a ride. She accepts, and accidentally leaves her wallet in his car.
Disguised as the flight attendant—with her ID, clothing, luggage, and a wig—he checks into the hotel room next door to the victim's. The rooms share a terrace. He crosses the balcony, enters the victim's room, stuffs her body into a suitcase, takes it back to his room, takes the elevator to the roof, climbs a water tower, and dumps the body into the hotel's water supply.
It's certainly creative.
It's also where the story completely falls apart.
The Biggest Plot Holes:
Housekeeping
The body supposedly remained in the room overnight, yet housekeeping never discovered it.
The Balcony
The entire scheme depended on two neighboring rooms connected by unlocked balcony doors. Modern hotels wouldn’t feature this design. And when balconies do exist, they're typically locked or otherwise secured.
The Disguise
The golfer successfully impersonated a female flight attendant despite modern high-definition security cameras, hotel employees, and identity verification.
The Body
This creates several problems all by itself. First, a standard flight attendant carry-on simply isn't large enough to conceal an adult. Second, even if it somehow fit, dragging that much weight through a hotel and then lifting it up a rooftop water tower would require extraordinary strength. Third, hotel rooftops are generally locked, alarmed, and monitored—not casually accessible.
The Investigation
Perhaps the biggest mystery isn't the murder—it's the detectives. Security footage revealed the victim never exited the room. Wouldn't investigators immediately examine every possible exit? A connected balcony and neighboring room would be among the first things they would check.
And that's before considering the forensic evidence. There was blood in the room. And a decomposing body in the hotel's water supply would create obvious contamination issues. The list goes on.
None of these problems ruin the show, however.
In fact, they may become part of its charm.
Sometimes a series succeeds not because every detail survives close scrutiny, but because it's simply fun to watch. This show has a terrific cast, an engaging supernatural premise, and enough personality that viewers may happily forgive its increasingly haunted logic.
If the remaining episodes maintain the same energy, this could still become one of the more entertaining K-dramas of the year—even if the detectives never notice the balcony.
Update 1: Just finished Ep. 4: A shocking twist that just might prove this show is breaking with standard kdrama tropes. Excited to see what comes next.
Update 2: Just watched the beginning of Ep. 5 & turned it off. Here's why. The K-drama formula is practically sacred: no matter how toxic, incompatible, or geographically separated the leads may be, they'll inevitably end up together.
Episode 4 looked like it was daring to break that rule.
After saving the heroine, the male lead is absolutely demolished by a speeding car, launched into the air like a ragdoll, then rushed to the hospital in critical condition. His heart flatlines. Friends break down in tears. The woman, devastated, wanders outside to cry beneath the moonlight...
...when he suddenly appears in front of her.
Completely healed. Perfectly healthy. Dressed in his casual street clothes.
Classic ghost behavior, right?
It was a wonderfully unexpected twist. For a moment, it looked like this series had the courage to do something genuinely original.
Then Episode 5 arrived and screamed, "Psych!"
He's not dead. He's not a ghost. Instead, we're told that during his life-threatening medical emergency, he somehow pressed pause on dying, slipped past the doctors trying to save his life, changed into his street clothes, strolled outside to comfort the woman, then casually returned to the hospital for a few more tests.
...Excuse me?
I expect a healthy helping of absurdity from K-dramas. That's part of the fun. But this isn't a contrivance—it's narrative fraud. The first four episodes built an engaging supernatural mystery, only for the writers to yank the rug out from under the audience with a twist that makes absolutely no sense.
Episode 5 didn't surprise me.
It cheated me.
My rating plummeted from a 10 to a spiteful 2, and I dropped the series on the spot. In a world overflowing with great television, I'd rather spend my time with shows written by people who respect both their own story and the audience's intelligence.
The cast is exceptionally charismatic, and the central storyline is easy to embrace: a psychic and a detective join forces to solve murders while a number of intriguing subplots begin to unfold.
Of course, part of the fun of watching K-dramas is spotting the plot holes. And this series appears determined to provide plenty of them.
Spoiler Alert: Stop reading if you haven't watched Episode Two.
The show's first major case involves a professional golfer accused of murdering his girlfriend. He's acquitted because prosecutors never recover the body.
A flashback reveals what actually happened. Around 6:00 p.m., the couple argues in a hotel room. During the struggle, the woman falls, strikes her head on the wooden bed frame, and dies. Panicking, the golfer flees, leaving blood behind.
Later, he hatches an elaborate plan. After photographing a flight attendant leaving the airport, he offers her a ride. She accepts, and accidentally leaves her wallet in his car.
Disguised as the flight attendant—with her ID, clothing, luggage, and a wig—he checks into the hotel room next door to the victim's. The rooms share a terrace. He crosses the balcony, enters the victim's room, stuffs her body into a suitcase, takes it back to his room, takes the elevator to the roof, climbs a water tower, and dumps the body into the hotel's water supply.
It's certainly creative.
It's also where the story completely falls apart.
The Biggest Plot Holes:
Housekeeping
The body supposedly remained in the room overnight, yet housekeeping never discovered it.
The Balcony
The entire scheme depended on two neighboring rooms connected by unlocked balcony doors. Modern hotels wouldn’t feature this design. And when balconies do exist, they're typically locked or otherwise secured.
The Disguise
The golfer successfully impersonated a female flight attendant despite modern high-definition security cameras, hotel employees, and identity verification.
The Body
This creates several problems all by itself. First, a standard flight attendant carry-on simply isn't large enough to conceal an adult. Second, even if it somehow fit, dragging that much weight through a hotel and then lifting it up a rooftop water tower would require extraordinary strength. Third, hotel rooftops are generally locked, alarmed, and monitored—not casually accessible.
The Investigation
Perhaps the biggest mystery isn't the murder—it's the detectives. Security footage revealed the victim never exited the room. Wouldn't investigators immediately examine every possible exit? A connected balcony and neighboring room would be among the first things they would check.
And that's before considering the forensic evidence. There was blood in the room. And a decomposing body in the hotel's water supply would create obvious contamination issues. The list goes on.
None of these problems ruin the show, however.
In fact, they may become part of its charm.
Sometimes a series succeeds not because every detail survives close scrutiny, but because it's simply fun to watch. This show has a terrific cast, an engaging supernatural premise, and enough personality that viewers may happily forgive its increasingly haunted logic.
If the remaining episodes maintain the same energy, this could still become one of the more entertaining K-dramas of the year—even if the detectives never notice the balcony.
Update 1: Just finished Ep. 4: A shocking twist that just might prove this show is breaking with standard kdrama tropes. Excited to see what comes next.
Update 2: Just watched the beginning of Ep. 5 & turned it off. Here's why. The K-drama formula is practically sacred: no matter how toxic, incompatible, or geographically separated the leads may be, they'll inevitably end up together.
Episode 4 looked like it was daring to break that rule.
After saving the heroine, the male lead is absolutely demolished by a speeding car, launched into the air like a ragdoll, then rushed to the hospital in critical condition. His heart flatlines. Friends break down in tears. The woman, devastated, wanders outside to cry beneath the moonlight...
...when he suddenly appears in front of her.
Completely healed. Perfectly healthy. Dressed in his casual street clothes.
Classic ghost behavior, right?
It was a wonderfully unexpected twist. For a moment, it looked like this series had the courage to do something genuinely original.
Then Episode 5 arrived and screamed, "Psych!"
He's not dead. He's not a ghost. Instead, we're told that during his life-threatening medical emergency, he somehow pressed pause on dying, slipped past the doctors trying to save his life, changed into his street clothes, strolled outside to comfort the woman, then casually returned to the hospital for a few more tests.
...Excuse me?
I expect a healthy helping of absurdity from K-dramas. That's part of the fun. But this isn't a contrivance—it's narrative fraud. The first four episodes built an engaging supernatural mystery, only for the writers to yank the rug out from under the audience with a twist that makes absolutely no sense.
Episode 5 didn't surprise me.
It cheated me.
My rating plummeted from a 10 to a spiteful 2, and I dropped the series on the spot. In a world overflowing with great television, I'd rather spend my time with shows written by people who respect both their own story and the audience's intelligence.
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