Utter Disappointment
Six hours. Three hundred and sixty minutes. Twenty-one thousand and six hundred seconds. Completely f**king wasted.
What began as a carefully constructed masterpiece was horrifically undone in a mere ten minutes. I beg you, please do not watch Can This Love Be Translated?
There will, of course, be spoilers ahead.
The Beginning
Without exaggeration, episodes 1-6 are among the greatest things I have ever laid eyes on.
Joo Ho-jin, the male lead, is an interpreter capabale of flawlessly translating any language, yet struggles to interpret the emotions of those around him. Cha Mu-hee, the female lead, is a famous actress who hides her true feelings behind a mask, often lying to keep others pleased.
Over the first six episodes, these two find themselves constantly tangled up in misunderstandings, yet gradually begin to understand one another and communicate more honestly.
"There are as many languages as there are people. Everyone speaks their own language. That's why people misunderstand, misinterpret, and offend each other."
— Kim Yeong-hwan
And don't even get me started on the cast: Ho-jin is played by Kim Seon-ho and Mu-hee by Go Youn-jung. Need I say more?
In short, they literally had everything going for them: incredible plot, beautiful life lessons, phenomenal cast, heavenly soundtracks, you name it.
Episode 7
Mu-hee rose to fame for her lead role as Do Ra-mi, a zombie from a horror movie. However, this character is more than just a role she played; it becomes a manifestation of Mu-hee's negative feelings. In moments of vulnerability, she would hallucinate Do Ra-mi, who constantly reminded her of her fears and shortcomings.
But as Mu-hee falls for Ho-jin, Do Ra-mi starts appearing less and less, signalling Mu-hee's growth and increasing self-confidence.
Well, at least that's what I thought was happening.
Because in the last ten minutes of episode 7, the writers decided to ditch their carefully crafted story. Out of literally nowhere, Mu-hee develops Dissociative Identity Disorder. So now Mu-hee alternates between her maturing self and a crazed, zombie alter-ego. And how do they introduce this? By having her break into Ho-jin's house and, I kid you not, spike him.
The End
Needless to say, I dropped the show immediately. But never have I ever felt so betrayed watching a K-drama.
Words cannot express how emotionally invested I was in these characters. I was upset when things went wrong, giddy when things went right. This was the only thing keeping me going during my final exams. It felt like after years of watching K-dramas, I had finally found my 10/10.
Only for the writers to stick their middle finger up and shatter any semblance of a plot they had built up, and along with it my heart.
So for all of you seeing TikTok edits of the show and adding it to your watchlist, let this be my warning to you. If you still decide to watch it (those edits ARE really good), stop at episode 6. Most of the clips used in those edits were from the first six episodes anyways.
Clearly, the writers can't translate six episodes of perfection into a coherent story.