Who Cares If Subtitles Are Annoying? Korean Television Is Worth It!

When the music school losers turn out to be both talented and cool af.

More and more people are enjoying Korean television shows, even those who claim they hate to read while watching TV, because drama this good defies language and cultural barriers. Watch a few episodes and you'll understand why such incredibly entertaining small screen offerings are winning over a global audience.

As a recent convert I went into the experience completely unprepared for the gems ahead. I'm not going to attempt to break down the types of storytelling forms and the genres because this isn't my field of expertise, and there are many great websites and online communities dedicated to Korean television, including fantastic recappers who will tell you stuff like whether the story is from a Japanese manga, or the past history of the cast and writers. My advice? If you watch a K-show, read a recap after each episode.

The spirits freak me out. (Yes, I am a woose.)

What makes Korean television so great? For me it's the no-holds-barred storytelling. Dramas can also include a lot of comedy and zaniness, so you're laughing then suddenly crying. I kept thinking of Joss Whedon, who has a similar storytelling style, in that amongst all the fun and jokes are incredibly complex emotional subtexts keeping viewers enthralled.

The surprise hug from behind is a popular go-to. #cuteas

Korean shows only run for one season, meaning no filler moments; each series packs a punch from day one, so skipping an ep isn't an option. Recurring themes include redemption, character evolution, and discovery of self-worth. People in Korean dramas are forced to face who they are, and address how they interact with the world, as well as how they want to live their lives from this point. To do well in a K-drama, a character HAS to be brave.

Love is another key element, and the emotion is treated with a level of respect that in itself is fascinating. Overall Korean television has limited sexual content, relying a lot on nuance, in terms of conveying complex psyches. Characters in Korean dramas feel deeply; they don't dismiss emotional intensity, and if a person is suffering because of love, the plot takes it seriously. Narrative-wise, self-sacrifice is a common form of emotional expression. Friendship is important, and the actions of loved ones usually move parts of the narrative forward—or backward. #interferingiscaring

One piggyback, and you're on the road to OTP.

I also like how the plot can present a character who appears childish and annoying in the first few episodes, only to unravel their psyche and reveal the influence of past traumas on their current behavior. Never judge a Korean drama on the first few episodes; if you're in, go the distance.  The way the story zips from lighthearted fare to downright intense drama within an ep or two will floor you. Unlike Western shows that prefer to set a specific tone from day one, Korean television dramas often run the whole gambit. A series can feels like you're watching seven different styles of storytelling in one big hit.

Visually they're quite sophisticated, often with incredibly beautiful framing. Music plays a big part in setting the mood; don't expect subtle background sounds. 

Expect heartbreak. And tears. (And not just onscreen.)

I get annoyed when people say these are soapies because no Western soap could hope to compare to a Korean drama. Emotionally it's like comparing 2D television with 3D cinema - storytelling with a whole other dimension.

On a cultural level, there can be slightly subversive elements at work. A number of plots constantly reference status and wealth, hinting that over-valuing these may close the door to potential happiness. Choosing love over arranged marriages is big. Walking a fine line that includes respecting older family members while not allowing them to completely control your future is another common thread. 

Aside from that - Korean shows are fun! They're quirky, intense, adrenalized emotional rides that don't shy from the tough stuff. Alongside difficult personal relationships (whether familial or romantic), the PTSD and the grief, kookiness abounds, including a penchant for talking to stuffed toys, hilarious drunk scenes, and God forbid, couples clothing. 

Who needs an inner monologue when the characters regularly
talk to stuffed animals? #interestingtrope

With the single season approach, there are too many shows to choose from. I watched a few on Netflix (but keep in mind the selection differs between countries). Certain free to air channels offer Korean dramas, and in the US DramaFever is a pretty big provider. Amazon and iTunes are in on the trend, too.

Looking to dip your toe in the vast K-drama pool? Here's a breakdown of the ones I've seen so far that stuck in my mind. (No procedural or medical dramas though: turns out I don't like them in any language.) The titles can be translated differently, so they might be online under other names as well. The actor's names are sourced from web listings, so apologies for any spelling issues or incorrect usage.

Tomorrow's Cantabile

Oh, this one is sweet. I'd recommend it for teenagers as well as adults. The story focuses on difficult musical genius Cha Yoo-Jin (Joo Won), and his next door neighbor Seoul Nae-Il (Shim Eun-kyung). She's a childish kook who starts crushing on him and shamelessly follows the guy around.

When a new conductor comes to their music college he creates S Orchestra, made up of the school's "losers". Soon the losers and Seoul Nae-Il decide Cha Yoo-Jin is their bestie, despite his constant grumbling, and once he has friends, everything begins to change.

When people just decide they're your best friends.

What do I love? How about the revelation Cha Yoo-Jin's aloofness and perfectionism, and Seoul Nae-Il's childishness and refusal to have serious piano lessons, are the result of PTSD? Both suffered traumatic events during childhood. The characters are forced to decide if they're brave enough to face their fears and move forward—on a lot of fronts. The show starts out so goofy I almost stopped watching, but I'm glad I didn't because it fast became a fave.

Learning to play well with others has more than one meaning here.

A classical soundtrack is obviously par for the course. Voiceovers that explain what the composer was trying to convey with the piece, sometimes outlining what was happening in the composer's life at the time, are a beautiful touch. During music scenes the show occasionally cuts to shots of the person playing in a field, a visual representation of the way music can transport the consciousness to a blissful place.

Learning by ear.

Best Scene: Seoul Nae-Il disappears after Cha Yoo-Jin's concert, and everyone thinks it's because his ex showed up. When he finds her this assumption proves completely wrong and the audience finally understands how deeply the two characters are affected, if not consumed, by the music they create.

Best Talent: Joo Won really carries the show as the lead; his simmering performance is incredible. But Kyung Pyo-Go as Yoo Il Rak deserves kudos too for his bubbly character as the electric violin rebel who appoints himself the lead's best friend. (And if you're wondering why he looks familiar, yes it is one of the guys from Flower Boys Next Door.)

Beating Again

Also know as Falling For Innocence, this wasn't what I expected. The story sees a guy receive a heart transplant and begin to change, falling for a woman who turns out to be the donor's lover.

That tension when the lifelong friend makes a play, crashes 'n burns,
and then moves to Resentment Town #niceguysyndrome 

Sounds like a rom-com, but this proved heavy with intense drama (in a good way). The lead Kang Min-ho, played by Jung Kyung-Ho, is a ruthless businessman known as The Serial Killer: he's always "killing" companies to accumulate wealth. End game? To destroy his uncle, who grabbed control of the family firm years ago. Ruining the company is paramount as he only has a month to live due to a heart condition.

Man on a mission. #revengeisamotivator

The lead here, isn't cold, he really is evil. Slick af, with a cruel sense of humor, this guy is intense. His interactions with Kim Soon-jung, played by Kim So-yeon, begin when she's the only one to stand up to him. 

This is a karma sucks kind of storyline. After an unexpected last minute heart transplant, the lead is slowly coerced by Kim Soon-jung, now his secretary, into seeing his father's factory workers as family, and reluctantly begins to care.

Everything unravels when he decides to go all in and try and save the company he was bent on destroying. As his uncle warned him, in big business the altruistic are bound to lose. On the personal front his shifting focus to Kim So-yeon is also fascinating to watch, and brilliantly done.

This recurring setting is a great metaphor 'cause this
pair have one hell of a life journey.

Best Scene: Oh, there are so many. Jung Kyung-Ho's charcter finally breaks when it looks like he'll lose the company, and admits he can't complain about the ruthless business practices of his corporate enemy because it feels like he's fighting the past version of himself - and he did so much worse to others. Another heart wrenching moment is when Kang Min-ho and Kim Soon-jung are visited by ghosts of their loved ones.

Best Talent: Kim So-yeon plays her part so well, reserved yet really just trying to survive and keep all the pieces together as life falls apart. Jung Kyung-Ho is a tour de force. His transformation is so incredible it's like he's two different actors, one at the beginning and one at the end. Whether being comedic or dramatic, he burns up the screen and is riveting to watch. I've since caught a few of his shows, and he's become my fave Korean actor. 

Personal Taste

Park Kae-in (played by Son ye-jin) crosses of paths with Jeon Jin-ho (played by Boys Over Flowers alumni Lee Min-ho) and it's the pebble that sets off an avalanche. Park Kae-in is a furniture designer living in a house built by her famous architect father. Jeon Jin-ho is a young architect who  convinces Park Kae-in to rent him a room when she ends up in dire financial straits. The building, Sanggojae, has never been opened to the public, so living there will help Jeon Jin-ho with an important upcoming contract bid.

She assumes he's gay, and instead of correcting her, he lets the lie stand. Expect fun tropes like interfering best friends, constant misunderstandings, and competing love interests, not to mention a makeover element as much about internal transformation as external.

Aw, these two. #roomies

I love the attention to design and detail. Personal Taste is beautifully filmed, especially the gallery scenes. Most of all I love the reveal partway through, that the kindest, smartest character is gay. When one of the lying, cheating characters starts defaming homosexuals, the script calls out this hypocrisy. Honoring love is a dominant theme in many Korean dramas, and the way this series reiterates love is precious and should always be respected, regardless of gender, is awesome.

The location itself becomes part of the story.

We get to watch our two leads try to disentangle themselves from the lies they've woven, and deal with the fallout from childhood traumas that have negatively impacted their lives. The show is a lot of fun, but you do feel for the leads, who make a right mess of everything.

 Number 1 not-yet boyfriend ever. #winning

Best Scene: When Jeon Jin-ho rubs Park Kae-in's belly while she's horribly sick with her period, and sings her a nursery rhyme, the sweetness factor is off the charts. Choosing to deliver updates on Park Kae-in's emotional state in the form of metaphorical weather forecast voiceovers is a nice touch.

Best Talent: While both leads are great, I really enjoyed Ryu Seung-ryong's portrayal of the sweet, sad gallery director Choi Do-bin (the best of the bunch frankly). Seeing Jo Eun-ji in the ensemble cast was a pleasant surprise—she was in Beating Again, and has a vibrant onscreen energy.

Master's Sun

This series is so much fun. Gong Hyo-jin plays Tae Gong-shil, who wakes up from a coma to discovers she can see ghosts. The series begins after the character's life has completely unraveled, partly because the ghosts hardly allow her to sleep. She does their bidding; delivering messages to loved ones while existing in a perpetual state of exhaustion and fear.

Possession is a bitch.

One night she hitches a ride with businessman Joo Joong-won (played by So Ji-sub) and discovers the ghosts are forced to dissipate when he touches her. Unfortunately he's not much for kindheartedness and has no interest in helping out our heroine. Realizing the haven he offers is a miracle she can't pass up, Tae Gong-shil gets a cleaning job at his mall. 

For this pair car accidents are haunting in more
than one way...

This mixed bag of comedy and drama is so entertaining. They really go for gold, with twins, conniving rivals, closure-for-spirits, sun metaphors, and undercover stings. The ghosts are scary at first, but like the characters you begin to get used to them.

So Ji-sub is fabulous as the businessman who tries to maintain a rigid front, and put up a valiant struggle against love. His dialogue is so unexpected, but you get his skewed logic as he tries to place a monetary interpretation on his interactions with Tae Gong-shil.

To say this guy has control issues would be understatement.

I think Gong Hyo-jin is one of the best female leads I've seen. This is the story of her journey from a frightened, disempowered victim, to an empowered survivor who comes to terms with her experience of the world. 

Best Scene: When Tae Gong-shil gets drunk spirits possess her. Joo Joong-won can banish them with a touch, but it's not long before another moves in, making her inebriated nights a trial for Joo Joong-Won. Hilarious, since Tae Gong-shil isn't immune to animal spirits either...

Best Talent: The leads here are brilliant together; both performances are so nuanced. So Ji-sub plays dramatic intensity and fantastic comedic timing with equal pizazz, while Gong Hyo-jin takes the audience on her emotional journey in such a beautiful way.

Not Forgetting The Fashion...

The styling in Korean TV shows is topnotch (and shares my love of sunglasses). Out of the shows listed above, I've awarded Best Dressed Gal to Kim Yoo-ri as Tae Yi-ryung in Master's Sun. Her character is a model/celebrity, and her fashion is beautifully chosen. Generally black or white, in sleek cuts. 

Best Dressed Guy award goes to Lee Min-ho as Jeon Jin-ho in Personal Taste. His styling is beautiful in this series. Hats off to whoever was behind the constant stream of stunning ensembles.

...And The Food!

In some cases there are more loving close-ups of food than there are of certain faces. And unlike U.S. TV shows, where food is a part of the set dressing and characters chew on a quarter of a teaspoonful for entire meal scenes, in Korean dramas people love to eat and the characters chow down with zeal.

Eat up!

After a while you'll get hungry, and a sandwich won't cut it because everyone onscreen is eating noodles! I grab these, available from most supermarkets. #yummmm

#committedtothefullexperience

Alright, Prepare To Uncouple...

Is the Odd Couple pairing as unbreakable a trope as it used to be? In the evolving world of television storytelling, the OTP (One True Pairing) may be in the throes of evolution.

With the Odd Couple procedural drama Castle kicking off next season minus one of the leading pair (Stana Katic as Kate Beckett), and Sleepy Hollow still a possible renewal despite killing off one of the OTP leads (Nicole Beharie as Abbie Mills) it would seem times are a changin'.

Sexual tension/possible romance between lead characters has long been an audience drawcard. "Shipping" is a term used to describe viewers' emotional investment in the idea of a couple. Many a showrunner will tell you messing with an established "ship" can impact ratings.

But these days TV is in a state of flux, with demand for new material at an all-time high. Programs willing to play with popular formats and tropes are catching the attention of viewers, and as a result networks are becoming more open to experimentation.

The question is, have we reached a point where a series can not just continue, but actually flourish after the loss of its original Odd Couple? 

One of the most notable partner replacement gone wrong in TV history was The X-Files back in the day. Mulder's departure, it can be argued, effectively rung the death knell for the series.

However it's worth noting Mulder was the quirky one in the partnership, and in the cases of Castle and Sleepy Hollow, each series' charismatic quirkster is remaining. Could this be a key factor when it comes to surviving the break-from-trope?

Another point to consider is whether the bold move of ending an Odd Couple pairing onscreen is a reflection of changing times and shifting cultural attitudes. Our belief in HEA (Happily Ever After) isn't what it used to be. 

Are audiences becoming okay with a sparks-fly couple not working out onscreen - or not even getting together in a romantic sense in the first place? Whether death or more mundane life choices lead to a separation, chances are we've become familiar with the bittersweet transience of finding that elusive synergy with another person.

Maybe, as audiences, we're ready to watch and empathize with characters dealing with life once a Grand Love, or the potential for such, has passed. Moving on: is that where the next small screen storytelling trend is at?

My Half a Dozen Fave Female Characters on TV Right Now

Scream Lydia, scream.

Television is a fickle thing: while on paper the concept of a female character can seem ground-breaking, inspiring, and/or relatable, often a viewer’s interpretation doesn’t align with critical consensus.

Instead of a blog disagreeing with certain much-touted female characters pushed upon audiences as positive representations, I thought I'd write about six female characters that engage and interest me to the point where I never miss an episode of the series, in the hopes they make an appearance.

That’s the thing, isn’t it? Maintaining an audience is important, and unless people find characters appealing—whether cruel or kind, devious or honest—interest in the show will wane.

A great female character is the culmination of a few factors (all of which apply to male actors/characters as well)*:

-Firstly, impeccable casting. An actor who completely embodies the character understands the person they're portraying on a deeper level, and communicates this to the audience. 

-Writing that creates a multi-dimensional, believable person is (of course) paramount. It's easy to create a character, but taking it to another level, where they seem like a person, is the challenge.

-A show with a framework that provides a wide scope of plot opportunities for the character to grow. 

-Excellent direction. Now and again a director of a tv episode understands the character and the actor so well they help guide a performance from great to phenomenal.

-On point costuming, hair, and makeup. Visual cues can help with characterization, and subtle changes are a great external signal for inner turmoil.

Quinn King in UnREAL
played by Constance Zimmer

I agree with the critics on this one (Zimmer won a Critics' Choice Award for her performance). As the Executive Producer on a Bachelorette-style reality show, Quinn King is a manipulative, ruthless, and complex character. Professionally she's a survivor (reality tv pun) in a male-dominated field, and most of her days are spent avoiding the sharks. 

Relationships with Chet, her lover, and Rachel, her producer, offer insights into the woman behind the ambition. The episode where Quinn was caught reading a bridal magazine was proof even the most cynical and world-weary can occasional fall to the allure of Happily Ever After, no matter how toxic their relationships (or work environment!). Quinn's professional trajectory is achieved through sheer will power and hard work, with ethics more often than not taking a backseat. Guessing Quinn's next move is relatively impossible, which makes for great television.

The key here is believability: Zimmer makes Quinn into an incredibly engaging character you find yourself empathizing with, despite the havoc she's sometimes causing in other people's lives. Her motivations, and her perspective, are so well sold by the ever-impressive Zimmer that in the hyper-world of UnREAL, Quinn feels like a real person.

Mona Vanderwaal in Pretty Little Liars

played by Janel Parrish

Speaking of hyper-realities, Mona Vanderwaal is one of tv's most compelling teenage characters (pre time jump). Over the years Pretty Little Liars has evolved into a complex web of subtext, gender issues and social commentary, to the point where it's bound to end up the subject of a college course - and I'd be happy to give a lecture.

Mona is a dork who transforms herself into an It Girl after the disappearance of queen bee Alison. When Alison's friends are bullied and blackmailed by cyber-presence "A", it turns out to be Mona, who is then admitted to a psych ward; the girls became her dolls, but Mona's actions stemmed from insecurity, and revenge. Thanks in part to a genius IQ, Mona is a manipulator and a survivor. Kidnapped in later seasons, she spends weeks in an underground bunker, forced to pretend to be Alison - blonde wig and all.

Five years into the future and Mona is still brilliant, yet still obsessed with the schoolmates she never managed to make into friends.

The point is you're never quite sure where Mona stands, and Parrish's performance has made Mona arguably the show's most popular character. When Mona smiles she's either happy, hoping to fit in, gloating over secrets (knowledge is power for this clever hacker), or mimicking human emotion for her own ends. The few times the character is truly emotionally vulnerable, Parrish's delivery hits it out of the park.

Dr. Cassandra Railly in 12 Monkeys

played by Amanda Schull

What I love about Cassie Railly in 12 Monkeys is that on paper she is not a character I would relate to, yet the no-nonsense doctor (well, virologist) is portrayed in such an emotive and subtle way by Schull that the audience can't help becoming instantly invested. 

Cassie is kidnapped in the pilot. The guy, Cole, turns out to be time traveller, and tells her where he will be in one year's time before disappearing into thin air (literally). When we next see Cassie, a year has passed and she's a bit of a mess: both her professional career and her personal relationship have unraveled. Still, she's determined to help Cole stop the plague that has almost wiped out humanity in the future.

Cassie really holds her own in this plot. There is an eventual romantic development between Cassie and Cole but it's natural and organic, and doesn't overwhelm the dominating storyline (i.e. saving humanity). Cassie has to do the best she can in her timeline to help Cole with his mission, as he is regularly pulled back to the future. Some of her choices are tough, and occasionally Cassie's responses are unexpected but in some sense understandable (thanks to great writing). 

Obviously the psychological and emotional pressure on the character is extreme, and there is a sincerity and depth to Schull's portrayal that's made her one of current sci-fi television's most rounded female characters.

Lydia Martin in Teen Wolf

played by Holland Roden

I keep meaning to blog on the modern gothic aesthetic of Teen Wolf; even just in terms of cinematography this is a beautifully presented production. Every episode offers a number of shots that could be printed as stills, framed, and hung in a gallery.

Then there is Lydia Martin. Originally the bitchy, beautiful best friend careful to hide her high IQ, clueless to the existence of the supernatural, Lydia's life is reshaped as she begins to discover the true nature of her friends. But the character truly comes into her own with the revelation Lydia is a banshee.

The writer's take on this mythical creature is unusual and frankly, fabulous, amplifying (bad joke) two elements of the traditional tales: sound and death. Lydia is drawn to scenes of death, or impending death, often in a trance-like state (meaning she's driving one place and suddenly finds herself near a corpse, no memory of her change in direction). She also "hears" premonitions in the form of sound. Since most banshees don't manage to hold onto their sanity, Lydia's journey is not an easy one. 

Roden plays the disturbing scenes with an eerie gravitas. At the other end of the spectrum are Lydia's more comedic/fun moments, delivered with equal pizzazz. The key here is the extremely complex character development the writers have spread over a number of seasons, which the actress's topnotch performance turns into into riveting viewing.

Agent Peggy Carter in Agent Carter

played by Hayley Atwell

Peggy Carter was an unusual choice for Marvel's first female-led series. Not only because of the lack of a modern setting, but Peggy isn't a leather-clad vigilante, alien, mutant, or wonder woman (ha!). She's an educated individual whose greatest fight, it could be argued, is against gender prejudices (as the show is set in the 1940s).

Turns out these elements are what make Marvel's Agent Carter so memorable, and so entertaining. Peggy's head is always held high; she battles both super villains and bureaucracy with focus, inventiveness, bravery, and zest. But Peggy is also human - occasionally she gets hurt, and it's this three-dimensional representation that makes Peggy resonate with viewers.

One of the best moments in the series was a flashback to Peggy as a naive young romantic who turns down the chance to become a spy due to her pending marriage. The stark contrast between the past and present versions of the character highlight how much Peggy has changed over the years, and makes the audience empathize with her more. Atwell's nuanced performance combined with quality scripts make the series one to watch.

Uehara Yuri in Good Morning Call
played by Mori Erika

Good Morning Call is a Japanese series on Netflix adapted from a manga. The story follows the evolving romance of two teens at the same high school who end up sharing an apartment after a real estate scam. Very sweet, and fun viewing. I enjoy noting the cultural differences, and the way the show's pace and visual tone differ from American programs. (Side note: The actors eat a lot onscreen, and I like that food isn't just a prop.)

Yuri, played by Mori Erika, is the sister-in-law of the male lead character Hisashi Uehara. Every now and again the show delves into deeper fare with moments of emotional intensity and complex dynamics between characters that are more implied than explicitly explored in the dialogue, and it's these sudden subtle forays (bold contrast to sillier moments) that make the show entertaining.

Erika's character has a mischievous side, but when the laughing, fashionable, professionally successful young woman turns up at Nao and Uehara's apartment—rain-soaked and devastated—to announce she's getting a divorce, the audience sees a whole other side to Yuri.

Considering the language barrier (meaning for English-speaking audiences Erika is communicating largely through tone, body language, facial expressions, and her eyes), the actress' ability to hint at the emotional depths/inner turmoil of the vivacious character is really impressive.


(*Two shows I haven't mentioned with notable female portrayals are Game of Thrones and Downtown Abbey. Both brilliant, but I find what happens to the character's too sad for regular viewing, so I only catch an episode now and again; not enough to really comment on character development.)

The Magicians: Thinking Outside The Box

QUIT DICKING AROUND. DO SOME GODDAMN MAGIC.

Someone gave me a copy of Lev Grossman’s novel The Magicians a few years back. A strange sense of ennui, a greyness, wraps itself around the tale. I could never really relate to the emotional veil that seemed to encapsulate the characters’ experiences. The novel’s protagonist is self-absorbed, intelligent, detached, and depressed: neither the traditional hero nor antihero. Grossman’s sentences were beautiful, and he played with established tropes quite brilliantly, mutating them into new and clever incarnations, but at heart I’m more a lover of the traditional hero’s journey.

Saying that, the book was unique and unsettling and offered insight into an alien mindset, which is always appreciated. The television series managed to hold onto that same, cold emotion while showing more of what simmers beneath the surface of each character: a fascinating mix of cold bleakness, burning resentments, and repressed passions.

I don’t generally address aspects of a novel-to-tv series adaptation: expecting anything other than a new twist on an old tale is shortsighted. I prefer to appreciate the way each medium presents the story. But in this case, I was surprised by my vastly different reactions to particular elements of the narrative in a small screen format (more on that later). Please note: spoilers for episodes 1-3 ahead...

To my mind, at its core the story is about power. In this world I think it’s fair to say knowledge is power, and magic is, in a sense, a metaphor for both power and pain. A lot of television shows today are about saving people, about grandiose love, about noble achievements (whether undertaken willingly or unwillingly). The Magicians is none of the above, which instantly makes it a more difficult sell, and a more interesting one.

Dean: This school exists for a single and timeless purpose. To reveal your innate abilities and hone them to the highest degree. Now what you do with it after that is entirely up to you. If you want to take over the world, we don’t teach that, but give it a go.

The gist of the story is that Brakebills is a secret magic college (pretty much) that accepts Quentin but not his friend Julia. She goes darkside, joining the hedge witches, who will do anything to obtain scraps of spells. Add in books about the magical land of Fillory—with a much darker sell than Narnia—and the audience realizes Quentin and his new friends have a creepier adventure ahead of them than Lucy and co. ever did.

Stylistically, the pilot is slightly erratic, and the second episode rushes the audience (I would have loved to casually hang with the Brakebill’s crew longer and get a more rounded impression of their characters before seeing them immersed in adventures and trials), but the third, to paraphrase Goldilocks, is just right.

That's not to say each episode doesn't have wonderfully memorable moments. The first time Quentin performs magic (and subsequently faints, way to go Q) is fantastic, and the pilot closer introducing The Beast is magnificent. I also loved the way they opened the second episode, like a crime scene procedural, magic-style. The ominous, almost bleak tone often plays against a whimsical humor (Quentin's magical "testing" is bizarrely funny) creating a signature style from the get-go (perfectly showcased by the hedge witch/book sex scene).

The lackadaisical attitude to student welfare scattered through the episodes is also disconcertingly hilarious.

Eliot: That is what’s left of the third year class. Were 20, now 4. No one knows why.

Quentin: They're just gone?

Margo: Rumor has it killed.

Eliot: Or flunked, or got bored, or died 16 perfectly natural deaths. Whatever. We all signed this waiver, hope you read yours—it says spellwork is not unlikely to murder you and if so, oh well.

Margo: So stay on the garden path, kid.

Character-wise, I think the small screen embodiment of Quentin, played by actor Jason Ralph, is what draws me in. I love the way he conveys Quentin’s issues with a nervous stammer, anxious posture, and fidgeting ways. Visually he bleeds insecurity. (Side note: His interactions with partying, Wilde-like Eliot are the show's strongest scenes. That character, portrayed by Hale Appleman, is as amazing as readers of the novel could hope.)

I feel like Quentin is always drowning. In reality, the story revolves around him but he has yet to realize it, and I love this. He isn't powerful, or devious, or playing the long game. He wants to conform and survive the system: that is all.

Dean: Now your meds. Quentin, you haven’t been depressed. You've been alone. And you are not crazy, you’re angry. And you are correct. Everyone, everyone medicates, out there. Here, we hope you won’t need to.

The most problematic element for me is Julia. In the books she was my absolute favorite, a lone rogue more than a little dark and odd. In the show I feel no empathy or connection with the character whatsoever: her storyline doesn’t engage me. I’m not sure if it’s the writing, the casting, or both. Likewise Alice, who I also quite liked in the books, seems a collection of clichés and tropes rather than a real girl. I never forget the actress is "being Alice", and that’s problematic.

For me, standout female characters are Margo, Professor Sunderland, and Eliza. What do they have in common? On reflection, all are empowered. In contrast Julia and Alice lack power in the form of knowledge, and are on the hunt: Julia for magic spells, Alice for details of her brother's fate. 

I would normally be engaged in both searches, on the side of the underdog, but I’m not, which makes me consider this the one notable flaw in the show at present. Julia and Alice are also quite humorless, which doesn't help with empathy and engagement, while the others tend to have moments of whimsy, or wit.

(The actor who plays Julia and the actor who plays Pete were both in Gossip Girl, which I realized while pondering the thought Quentin is like Dan Humphrey: he considers himself an outsider while on the fast-track to becoming the ultimate insider.)

The best part of the show's writing is the way the characters are tied to the lead Quentin: the animosity between him and Penny, his reverential relationship with the Dean, his out-of-character increasingly selfless attitude with Alice, his wary interactions with Margo (mostly through Eliot at this stage), his crackly friendship with Julia’s boyfriend James, and even his chilling first meeting with future nemesis The Beast.

Quentin's interactions with Eliot and Julia are the standouts. His evolving odd couple pairing with Eliot is one of the best aspects of the show (when they confide in each other it fleshes out the characters immensely). Then there is his complex friendship with Julia.

The uncomfortable, attraction-never-addressed issue is a strong part of the set-up. In the pilot, Julia and Quentin's argument is about more than Fillory; it's the way you snap at friends when sexual tension not acknowledged is in play.

In regards to their showdown, I’ve seen a lot of online talk placing Julia as the victim in this scenario, but I actually saw Quentin’s perspective as well. (Not sure if that’s because of the novel?) To me, Julia used Quentin’s friendship to fill in the gaps in her relationship with the less mentally compatible James, all the while aware of Quentin’s attraction to her, and since this is a common real-life practice I dislike, I could see where Quentin’s simmering resentment came from.

 Eliot: Funny little irony they don't tell you. Magic doesn’t come from talent: it comes from pain.

On the technical front, not sure I’m sold on the occasional slight camera shake to create a more documentary feel (I’m guessing). I do appreciate the number of shots each episode that make for beautifully composed stills. Sound is skilfully used on this show to create atmosphere, most notably in the pilot's closing scene. In terms of costuming, the male characters are MUCH better dressed than the female characters. 

In regards to set design and location, I love the modern day and Old World mash-up that is Brakebills. A promotional shot of Quentin approaching Brakebills, dwarfed by the grass and the building in the distance, barely registering against the vastness of the institution, contrasts sharply with the street shots of graffiti (which I think of as symbolizing the hedge witch underground magic scene) where Quentin dominates the frame. I love this distinction.

Final note: Syfy, the quality of your new programming has massively improved in 2016, but what’s with the floating sex scenes? The Expanse and The Magicians both (albeit one scientifically-based and one magically-based). You honestly don't need it, especially before we get to know the characters—it feels way gratuitous. The storytelling is more than enough.