Reviews

From Great Build-Up to a Drastic Downfall

The series starts strong, with great comedy, entertaining dynamics and especially good character development for the Leads. Ran's development is one of its biggest strengths: seeing her grow from someone extremely reserved who struggles to defend herself or Neen into someone who openly stands up for their relationship and eventually sets clear boundaries is genuinely satisfying. Neen's impulsive and playful personality also brings a lot of charm and comedy, while their chemistry makes the wholesome moments work really well.

Unfortunately, the later episodes almost work backwards from everything the series had built. The fun balance between comedy, romance and drama mostly disappears in favor of increasingly heavy and forced drama. Characters become less nuanced, some previously great side characters suddenly react in ways that don't fit their earlier portrayal, and the story loses much of the depth and believable communication that made the earlier episodes so refreshing.

The biggest issue is how extremely one-dimensional some antagonistic characters become. Ran's mother in particular is pushed so far in one direction without meaningful development that the story eventually leaves itself almost nowhere believable to go.

Towards the end, the series also skips over too much of the emotional journey that could have made its conclusion truly satisfying.

There are also several very obvious product placements throughout the series that occasionally feel completely disconnected from the scenes around them.

Overall, it's a series with great chemistry, genuinely funny comedy, strong performances and initially very satisfying character development. That's exactly why the later writing is so disappointing: the series had already built the foundation for a much more natural and rewarding conclusion, but ultimately chose forced drama and one-dimensional conflict instead.

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When you think it cant get worse than Only you it actually does

Starting of i have to say that if it werent for LingOrm this gl would have 6 rating max because it was bad. The good things: Orms and Runch's mom acting. Orm acted very well in a lot of scenes and was portraying the emotions without too much effort..
The bad things: I really can understand what Ch3 is doing. The budget was low, the production was terrible and everything seemed like it was made from a startup low-budget team. The script was mid, kinda boring most of the times and every episode was like the one before (except ep 11). Runchs mom did something, the wives were fighting, they made up and again and again. Lings acting was not good ( i love lingling). It seems like she could make only one expression even if she was sad, happy or angry. She couldnt make the viewers empathize her and feel the emotions with her.
The chemIstry: MID AF. I dont want to be the person who brings up The secret of Us but i just cant. We have seen the chemistry those two can have and it was great. This time it was like they were doing something forced. I will not even start with the horrible kissing . It was like they are disgusted by each other. I dont think its LO fault but the productions either way every person who is over 16 and has kissed someone knows this is not it.
To sum it up, i was disappointed bcs i like lingorm and that was horrible. The channel knows that they are BIG and whatever they will do its gonna hit but come on now. If there is a next series take it seriously and let them act, do workshops and make a series more people will enjoy.

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Love Sick 2024 — The Same Story, a Different Generation

I already liked the story of Love Sick. The original 2014 series was historically important and gave Thai BL something that barely existed on television at the time: two schoolboys whose relationship was not simply a tragic gay subplot hidden inside somebody else's drama. But liking what the original represented never meant that I thought everything about its execution had aged equally well. It took a very long time to reach emotional points that should have arrived more naturally, the enormous amount of surrounding school drama often diluted Phun and Noh's relationship, and I never completely believed the romantic ease between the original leads. Ten years later, Love Sick 2024 gave me the strange experience of watching essentially the same story and finally feeling that it had found the form I wanted from it. That is why I think calling this simply a remake understates what worked. The original Love Sick ran for 12 episodes in 2014 and then an extraordinary 36 episodes in its second season, making 48 episodes altogether. The 2024 adaptation takes the same novel by Latika Chumpoo and restructures that world into 15 episodes. That alone creates a completely different rhythm. Events that once seemed to wander eventually toward a destination now feel as though somebody has gone back through the story and asked what actually matters, what needs room, and what can be removed without losing the emotional identity of Phun, Noh and Friday College.

The greatest improvement for me, however, was Almond Poomsuwan and Progress Passawish. Casting two genuine newcomers as Phun and Noh could easily have gone wrong, especially when they were inheriting characters already associated with one of the most important early pairings in Thai BL. Instead, their inexperience became part of what made the romance convincing. Phun and Noh are teenagers discovering feelings they do not completely understand, so uncertainty should be visible. The awkward pauses, hesitation, embarrassment and moments where they seem unsure what to do with their own bodies do not feel like experienced actors carefully manufacturing adolescent discomfort. Sometimes they simply look like two young performers discovering how to play intimacy at the same time their characters are discovering it. For me, that was perfect casting. I did not need polished romantic leads behaving as though Phun and Noh had already survived three previous relationships. I needed boys whose feelings seemed slightly ahead of their ability to explain them. Progress makes Noh wonderfully expressive without turning him into a cartoon, while Almond gives Phun a calmer quality that makes the moments where his emotions become visible much more effective. They are also simply adorable together, but cuteness alone would not have carried fifteen episodes. What mattered was the ease between them. Even without relying on a conventional kiss between the central pair, I understood exactly when proximity had stopped being part of their fake-boyfriend arrangement and started meaning something neither knew how to name.

That is where the difference from 2014 felt most obvious to me. I am not interested in speculating about the sexuality of either generation of actors because acting does not provide evidence of someone's private orientation. What I can judge is what appeared on screen. With the original leads, I often felt an awareness that two male actors were performing a male-male romance. With Almond and Progress, that barrier largely disappeared for me. Touching, leaning against one another, invading each other's personal space or simply remaining physically close rarely felt like something the actors needed to overcome before the characters could exist. The decade separating the adaptations matters here. Love Sick first appeared in 2014 at the beginning of modern Thai BL television, when the genre itself was still unusual enough that academic research now identifies the series as a turning point in Thai media. By 2024, these younger actors had grown up in a country where BL actors appeared on enormous billboards, male-male fictional couples had become mainstream entertainment products, Pride was publicly celebrated, and parliament had approved marriage equality. During the broadcast of Love Sick 2024, royal assent made Thailand the first country in Southeast Asia to legally recognise same-sex marriage, with the law scheduled to take effect in January 2025.

That does not mean homophobia disappeared or that every Thai teenager suddenly became completely comfortable with sexuality. Research involving Bangkok adolescents still finds stigma alongside increasing acceptance, although the overall levels of stigmatising attitudes in the studied group were relatively low and positive exposure to LGBTQ representation was associated with lower stigma. I therefore would never use Thailand's reputation for tolerance to make assumptions about Almond or Progress themselves. What has changed is the cultural environment in which young actors learn what two boys being affectionate can look like. By 2024, male-male romance was no longer the strange television experiment it had been when the original Love Sick appeared. That difference affects the entire remake. The school feels younger and more emotionally open. Attraction can be confusing without automatically becoming terrifying. Boys can tease one another about relationships and exist physically around one another without every touch being framed as an enormous violation of masculinity. This is still BL rather than a documentary about Thai teenagers, but the emotional vocabulary has changed. Watching the remake made me realise how much a society can change around a story while the basic story itself stays almost identical.

Cheewin Thanamin was also a sensible person to guide a cast this inexperienced. Whatever anyone thinks about individual dramas in his filmography, by 2024 he had spent years directing young performers in BL and understood the mechanics of the genre. He had worked across comedy, explicit adult romance, school stories and much darker material. More importantly here, he knew not to direct Almond and Progress as miniature versions of experienced BL stars. Their youth and lack of polish were allowed to remain visible, and because the characters themselves are young, that vulnerability becomes an advantage rather than a defect. The supporting cast works for similar reasons. There are moments where the differences in acting experience are visible, and nobody should pretend every performance is technically perfect. But Friday College benefits enormously from looking like an actual collection of boys rather than a room full of twenty-five-year-old professional models pretending they have homework tomorrow. Contemporary viewers were divided about the inexperienced performances, with some praising the authenticity and others wanting much stronger emotional control from the newcomers. I fell much closer to the first group because this particular story needs youthful awkwardness more than it needs technical perfection.

The remake also reminded me why I liked the original story despite my problems with the older adaptation. The fake-boyfriend premise is simple but effective because neither boy initially understands what he is inviting into his life. Phun wants a practical solution to family pressure. Noh needs help with his music-club budget. The transaction gives them permission to behave like a couple before either has to admit that he might actually want to be one. Pretending becomes a safe rehearsal for feelings that are much more frightening when they become real. It is hardly the most complicated plot BL has ever produced, but simplicity is not a weakness when the characters make the emotions interesting. Where Love Sick 2024 particularly improved things for me was in making that transition easier to feel. I could see when jealousy stopped being part of the joke. I could understand the discomfort around girlfriends without needing the drama to continually explain it. I believed that Noh could simultaneously care about Yuri and recognise that what he feels for Phun belongs somewhere else emotionally. The story remains messy because adolescence is messy, but the mess now feels attached to the characters instead of the series simply taking an unnecessarily long route toward the next important scene. I also appreciated that the remake did not attempt to modernise Love Sick by turning it into a completely different kind of BL. The setting, music club, friendships, uniforms, gossip and enormous network of teenage relationships are still recognisably Love Sick. The production understands that the original has an identity worth preserving. What needed updating was not the central premise but the way the story moves, the performances, the production polish and the emotional language between the boys. This is important because the original deserves respect even where the remake improves upon it. Thai BL in 2024 could afford to look more confident partly because Love Sick took the risk ten years earlier. Research on the Thai BL industry repeatedly identifies the 2014 series as one of the crucial starting points for the enormous market that followed. A remake therefore had an unusual responsibility: it had to improve something historically important without behaving as if that older production had simply been a mistake.

For me, it succeeded. The 2014 version was groundbreaking; the 2024 version was simply much more enjoyable to watch. Those statements can exist together. Being first deserves recognition, but being first also means working without ten years of accumulated knowledge about how Thai BL can be written, acted, filmed and marketed. The remake had the enormous advantage of inheriting an industry the original helped create.

Final Thought

What I liked most about Love Sick 2024 was not that it changed Phun and Noh. It was that it allowed me to see the same characters through a different generation. The basic confusion of first love is still there, but the atmosphere surrounding two boys discovering attraction no longer feels the same as it did a decade earlier. Almond and Progress did not need to define anything about themselves for me to believe their characters. They simply needed to appear comfortable enough with each other that Phun and Noh could exist without the actors' hesitation becoming louder than the relationship. That is why using newcomers worked so beautifully for me. Their awkwardness had value. Their uncertainty had value. Even the little imperfections in their performances could resemble the imperfections of teenagers who have no idea how they are supposed to behave when friendship begins turning into something else. I found them extremely cute together, but more importantly, I found them believable together. The story itself remains fairly simple and there are still too many surrounding characters for every storyline to receive equal depth. I would not pretend this was some revolutionary piece of writing in 2024. What impressed me was how much better the same material could feel when the pacing, casting and emotional atmosphere finally worked for me. It was almost like discovering the version of Love Sick that had always existed somewhere inside the original story but had not yet completely reached the screen. And perhaps that is the best reason for a remake to exist. Not to erase the work that came before, and not simply to reproduce it with prettier cameras, but to take something important and ask what another generation can reveal inside it. For me, Love Sick 2024 answered that question very well.

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You Make Me Dance — A Small BL That Made a Difficult Year Warmer

Note: This review reflects how I experienced the drama when it was released in 2021 and was originally written elsewhere before being added to MDL. I therefore judge it within the BL landscape that existed at the time rather than comparing it with productions released years later.

I probably remember You Make Me Dance more fondly than its story alone would normally justify. I watched it in 2021, during COVID, when everyday life already felt unusually confined and repetitive, and something about this little Korean BL gave me exactly the atmosphere I needed. It was quiet, romantic, slightly melancholic and visually warm despite taking place during winter. It certainly wasn't an extraordinary story, and even at the time I could see weaknesses in the writing, but watching these two lonely men gradually become important to one another made those short episodes strangely comforting. Sometimes the circumstances in which we discover a drama become inseparable from how we remember it, and this is one of those cases for me.

The premise is unusual enough to immediately attract attention. Song Si-on is a 22-year-old contemporary-dance student struggling financially after conflict with his family leaves him largely alone, while Jin Hong-seok is a 28-year-old debt collector who has already abandoned his own dream of music. Hong-seok arrives to recover Si-on's debt, Si-on convinces him to wait until an important dance audition, and somehow debtor and collector end up sharing a rooftop home while becoming emotionally entangled. The details are certainly not the most realistic financial arrangement ever written, but realism was never what made the series work for me. What interested me was the symmetry between them: one man is desperately trying not to abandon his dream, while the other already knows what abandoning one feels like. Their romance grows from that recognition as much as from attraction. The drama was also tiny. Eight episodes of roughly twelve to nineteen minutes meant that the complete story was barely feature-film length, and a movie edit was indeed released afterwards at around one hour and forty-six minutes. That format inevitably created problems. Si-on's relationship with his mother needed more development, Hong-seok's history with music could have gone considerably deeper, the rival characters are more functional than complex, and several emotional developments happen because the series simply has no time to let them evolve slowly. Contemporary reviews in 2021 were already divided on exactly this issue: some viewers praised the production and chemistry while feeling that the story was racing against its short runtime and leaving parts of both characters unexplored. I agreed with that criticism even while enjoying the drama much more generously than some reviewers did. But I also think it is important to remember what Korean BL looked like at that moment. W-STORY had already produced Where Your Eyes Linger and Mr. Heart, and You Make Me Dance belonged to that early wave of Korean productions trying to establish BL as something visually polished even when the budgets and episode lengths were much smaller than ordinary K-dramas. It already looked professional. The lighting, winter atmosphere, rooftop interiors, dance studio and framing around bodies gave the series an identity that felt much more deliberate than its miniature format might suggest. A Japanese Blu-ray release later in 2021 even promoted it specifically as the next BL from the company behind Where Your Eyes Linger, which shows how recognisable W-STORY's emerging position had already become.

The dance itself is important because it isn't simply a hobby pasted onto Si-on to make him visually interesting. Dance represents the part of himself he refuses to surrender even after family rejection, financial trouble and professional insecurity. Hong-seok, by contrast, has already surrendered his relationship with music and accepted a life that pays him without fulfilling him. The idea that Si-on's movement can awaken something in Hong-seok is simple, perhaps even slightly sentimental, but I liked it. One is still fighting for the thing that makes him feel alive, and watching him reminds the other that surviving and living are not necessarily the same thing. There is also a fascinating production detail behind that choice. Choo Young-woo's character was reportedly not originally conceived as a contemporary dancer at all. During casting, Young-woo demonstrated dance he had learned while preparing for acting-school entrance examinations, and the creative team changed the character and story around what they saw. That makes sense when watching him because the camera clearly trusts his physicality. Si-on's dancing does not look like a random skill inserted between dialogue scenes; the series repeatedly allows Young-woo's body to communicate loneliness, ambition and frustration. For a young actor making his first screen appearance, carrying both the acting and the physical demands of the role was quite an introduction. Choo Young-woo was very young here, and there are moments where that freshness is visible, but it suited Si-on. He has the vulnerable look of somebody who desperately wants affection while pretending he can survive without it. His expressions can move quickly from stubborn confidence to something almost childlike, which makes Si-on's emotional dependence understandable without turning him into a completely helpless character. This was his first credited screen role, so I could not watch him in 2021 with an established filmography in mind; I simply saw a very attractive young actor with an unusual screen presence who immediately made me curious about what he might do next. Won Tae-min fascinated me for a different reason. He was still credited as Won Hyung-hoon then and was also extremely early in his screen career, but he already had one of those faces that seemed capable of belonging to almost any character. I could imagine him as the good man, the dangerous man, the ordinary office worker, the villain, the romantic lead or the person you should probably avoid following down a dark alley. That versatility is partly physical—his features can look remarkably gentle or very hard depending on expression—but it would mean nothing without control behind it. Hong-seok begins as someone who should be intimidating, yet Won lets little moments of care escape before the character is prepared to admit them. For someone with so little screen experience at the time, he was remarkably captivating. Hong-seok could easily have become ridiculous because the premise asks us to accept a debt collector who essentially moves into his debtor's life and gradually becomes his protector. Won plays the character seriously enough that the absurdity becomes less important. He has a natural stillness that works particularly well opposite Young-woo's much more physically expressive Si-on. One character moves because he is trying to keep his dream alive; the other often barely moves because he has spent too long suppressing his own. Visually, they balance each other. Their chemistry is what ultimately allowed me to forgive the screenplay. It isn't the most explosive romance, but I believed that these two lonely people could become attached very quickly because both recognised something missing in themselves through the other. Hong-seok does not simply want Si-on because he is attractive; Si-on represents passion, youth and the courage to continue wanting something. Si-on, meanwhile, finds in Hong-seok the dependable adult presence and protection he has been missing. That creates an imbalance which the short script never examines deeply enough, especially considering that one is technically collecting the other's debt, but emotionally I understood why they gravitated toward one another.

The physical romance also felt surprisingly comfortable for a Korean BL of that moment. In a 2021 Viki interview, Won and Choo themselves joked that their characters were older than the school-age leads often associated with BL and hinted that viewers would get scenes they wanted to see. The kissing never becomes explicit, but it doesn't feel as though the production is terrified of the fact that these men are attracted to each other either. That mattered in an industry where Korean BL was still defining how much romance it was prepared to show. I also remember the winter atmosphere almost as strongly as I remember the plot. The cold air, rooftop apartment, dance studio, scarves and subdued colour give the drama a feeling of isolation that suits both characters. A contemporary 2021 review described the winter setting as adding to the coldness and loneliness surrounding them, and that is very close to what I felt. During COVID, when so many of us were spending much more time inside and ordinary social life had become strange, that combination of loneliness slowly turning into warmth affected me more than it probably would have under different circumstances. That is also why I cannot judge the drama entirely through technical imperfections. If somebody watched You Make Me Dance only for plot construction, I could understand a considerably lower rating. The mother's storyline is incomplete, the rival dancer is too thinly written, CEO Cha functions more as an obstacle than a fully convincing person, the financial premise is questionable, and the ending resolves problems with the efficiency required by a drama that has almost no minutes left. The story is simply “okay.” What lifted it for me was performance, chemistry, atmosphere and timing. There is a difference between saying a drama is objectively flawless and saying that a drama gave you an experience you value. You Make Me Dance was the latter. I could see exactly where it was underwritten while still wanting to stay inside its little world. The imperfections did not stop Young-woo and Won Tae-min from making the central relationship emotionally pleasant to watch, and the production understood how to create mood despite having very limited time.

Final Thought

Looking at You Make Me Dance as I experienced it in 2021, I understand perfectly why I gave it 9/10 even though I would never pretend every individual component deserved that score. The writing was not a nine. The plot was not a nine. The development of the supporting characters certainly was not a nine. But a personal rating is also about what watching something actually did to you, and during a difficult period this tiny winter romance made me feel better. It also gave me two actors I immediately wanted to remember. Choo Young-woo had the vulnerability and physical expressiveness needed for Si-on despite this being his screen debut, while Won Tae-min already looked like an actor who could become almost anybody depending on what a future director asked from him. Their chemistry was strong enough to make a very compressed romance feel warmer and more complete than the script really allowed it to be.

Korean BL in early 2021 was still finding its shape, and You Make Me Dance was part of that process. It showed that even a drama built from eight miniature episodes could have attractive cinematography, real romantic chemistry, actors worth following and enough emotional identity to stay with somebody after the plot itself had started fading. For me, that is exactly what happened. I don't remember every narrative detail anymore, but I remember the rooftop, the winter, the dancing, those two faces, and how much I enjoyed having them around during COVID. Sometimes that is worth more than a technically perfect script.

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Don't waste your time watching this

The ending scene is MC dying for no reason. the write force his logic (which is wrong and childish) down your throat. Its painful to watch and will make you angry for wasting your time. never gets better. TrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrashTrash

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I know it’s fluff, but come on, it definitely deserves a higher rating than this. ?

My mind gets completely overwhelmed after watching a 35+ episode C-drama or a highly intense K-drama, and honestly, dramas like this are exactly what breathe life back into me. 😂

I’m not going to call it a masterpiece, but it definitely holds a special place in my heart. I absolutely loved the FL, so yeah, that definitely earned the drama some extra points from me. ❤️

**Overall, I’d definitely recommend giving this a try after finishing something heavy or emotionally intense. Sometimes you just need a light, fluffy drama to reset your brain, and this one does exactly that.**

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One of Meng Na best works.

If someone asks what's Meng Na best drama which showcase her acting, i will give The Soothsayer as first choice. Tinghua is really good at non romance drama and i always enjot their non romance drama. Soothsayer is refined version of Yun Miao with more complex story. The biggest problem with this type of work is too much talk and a slow pace. This drama sets a good example for other works, proving that the FLs strength doesn't necessarily require defeating the villain. The whole series has one main storyline and three stories. FL travels through twelve families to retrieve the twelve fragments she lost. Each story is touching, with themes of national righteousness, family affection, and unexpected plot twists, all full of positive energy. The second story, in particular, has a very unexpected ending. I initially thought, "I've seen this story before," but I realized I was wrong. FL's character is well-developed and three-dimensional. The process of recruiting followers is the most reasonable among similar stories. The supporting characters are also fleshed out and vividly portrayed, not stereotypical at all. Especially the villains, who are finally not just tools to be used; they all have their own perspectives and stances (their wickedness is very justified), and their exits are not drawn out, avoiding the situation where a villain is involved for several episodes. The costumes, props, and sets are exquisite, the visual quality is excellent, the action scenes are smooth and fluid with impactful punches, ML and FL are handsome and beautiful, the supporting cast is top-notch, the acting is consistently strong, the filters are natural, the voice acting is fitting, and the background music is perfectly suited, making for a very enjoyable viewing experience. Special mention must be made of FL and the emperor. It's easy for a character like the FL to be portrayed as expressionless (a common mistake in many similar dramas), but her aloofness isn't about being expressionless; Meng Na perfectly captured that dignified yet stern aura. Although the emperor only has about two minutes of screen time, his smiling yet ruthless character leaves a deep impression, giving me the feeling of a final boss.

Highly recommended. I can't think of any other production company that can achieve this level of quality in this genre of short dramas. It's a truly breathtaking experience that you have to see for yourself.

And for the director, thank you for giving last masterpiece have a safe journey in afterlife~

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The overall plot, the casting, the acting, the music everything was good but it had some flaws towards the last few episodes it felt they rushed it just to end the drama within 40 episodes the final epdisode didn't feel satisfactory to me, they could have made it much more better, the story really had a potential but they didn't use it wisely, and i liked ye xian more than the main leads. One refresh and new thing compared to all the other dramas with plots like this is the young emperor in which they portrayed him like a real emperor he had thoughts of his own, kind and wise unless all the other drama where emperor are showed like a powerless puppets manipulated by powerful factions and needed someone to shield and support them..

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A Zombie BL That Actually Understands the Apocalypse

Survival Comes First
What impressed me most about The Last Oath is how seriously it treats its setting. This is not simply a romance with a few zombies wandering around in the background. The characters need shelter, food, supplies and protection, and even entering an abandoned building can become a life or death situation. There is a constant feeling that nowhere is completely safe, which makes the quieter scenes just as important as the action. 🧟

The World Feels Empty and Dangerous
I really love the visual atmosphere.

Action With Actual Consequences
Another surprise was how intense some of the zombie encounters are. These infected are FAST, so characters cannot simply stand around deciding what to do. People panic, mistakes happen and survival often comes down to seconds. A Lie arriving to save the group was such a satisfying moment because by then the episode had already built enough danger for his appearance to feel earned rather than convenient.

More Than Just Two Handsome Leads
Of course Chen Liang and Ming Han are very easy on the eyes, but I am glad the series is giving me more than visuals. Lin Zai's immunity creates a bigger mystery surrounding the outbreak, while A Lie clearly has more going on beneath the surface. Their connection is still at the very beginning, and I actually hope the series takes its time developing it rather than rushing straight into romance.

The supporting group deserves some credit too. Watching ordinary people trying to work together and make survival decisions gives the story another layer beyond the main pairing. I already find myself wondering who is going to survive until Episode 24 and who is going to completely break under the pressure.

There are a few moments where AI are noticeable, but they are brief and honestly did not affect my enjoyment. When everything else is giving me an ambitious zombie survival story, strong action, interesting characters and BL all in the same series, a few seconds doesn’t matter, who cares 👬

Two episodes in and The Last Oath has already convinced me that this combination can actually work. It feels different from everything else I am currently watching, and instead of knowing exactly where the story is heading, I genuinely want to discover what happens next.
10000/10. Bring on the next outbreak. 🔥

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good starting episodes - reels you into the story a bit

Episode - 1
First episode was good reels you in a bit, felt a bit too fast at the start with everything happening and the whole Lin Zai brother situation was quick, thought a bit more context or some flash backs to before the apocalypse or when it just starts. The equipment 'A lie' (Chen Ming Hao) is carrying seemed quite good considering the apocalypse started 22 days prior (might be reading to far into that + might need some back story or explanation) but so far i'm invested. Was a bit taken aback by scenes that look like AI but other than that it was good. (Also need to know the song name that was played throughout the last few minutes of this episode).

episode - 2
This episode was okay though I feel like things are happening fast once again considering this drama will have 24 episodes but they are short either way we’ll see what happens in the upcoming episodes. definitely a bit of tension between ’A Lie’ and ‘Lin Zai’ at the start, curious to see were that goes. I like the concept of Lin Zai being immune though I’d like to see where it goes, also love whenever bows and arrows are included in combat type dramas.


overall - I’m intrigued to see where this goes

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Campy Chaos That Lost Its Steam

A good number of people really enjoyed this one. But honestly, I was mezzo mezzo, meaning so-so or half and half. The script was all over the place and tried to fit as many cult-horror classics into one drama, and that was super fun to watch. I never knew what I was going to get, and the script was purposely absurd, with the kind of over-the-top humor that works for me. I grew up on 1980s campy horror like Sleepaway Camp, Night of the Demons, The Evil Dead, and Army of Darkness, so I enjoy kitsch and the outrageous.

What didn’t work for me was how much steam they tried to add to the storyline. It was fine the first couple of times, but by the 10th episode, it had become so redundant that the humor started to wear thin. It was bordering on tired and overdone, and by the halfway mark, I was pretty much over it. I continued mainly because I was interested in the broader premise and wanted to see how the virus storyline and the various conflicts surrounding it would play out. That part kept me interested, but the recurring intimacy bits increasingly took away from the other parts of the drama that were working for me. What I could have done without was the male lead repeatedly using intimacy with the female lead as a solution in one of the recurring side arcs.

Closer to the end, the narrative itself started to feel a little bland. At that point, I was mostly watching just to wrap things up, without being as invested as I had been earlier.

Overall, this was an okay watch for me. I did enjoy the offbeat characters and side stories, falling in love with the main narrative and a few roles. Had they been a full format though, I probably would have dropped this one.

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The Last Oath Was Not What I Expected

i started The Last Oath mostly because the idea of mixing BL with a zombie outbreak sounded unusual, but I was surprised by how quickly the story pulled me in. What really works for me is that the show takes its survival setting seriously. Finding somewhere safe, searching for supplies and dealing with the infected actually matter, so there is always a feeling that something could go wrong. The zombies are fast and threatening, the action is surprisingly good and I really like the abandoned locations surrounded by nature because they give the series a strong atmosphere. LinZai being different from everyone else adds an interesting mystery, while ALie is easily one of the most intriguing characters so far. Their relationship is only just beginning and I actually prefer that because there is plenty of time for their connection to develop naturally alongside the survival story. The supporting characters also feel like part of the plot rather than just being there to fill space. There are a few small production imperfections, but nothing that bothered me enough to take away from how entertaining these first two episodes were. It feels fresh, ambitious and completely different from the BLs I normally watch. An easy 10/10 start for me and I really hope it keeps this quality.

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