[ad_1]
Boyhood: Episode 1 (First Impressions)
by solstices
With a stitch in my side from laughing too hard, I have to announce — I absolutely love this show so far! Boyhood starts out strong with a lovable protagonist and an accidental switcharoo, full of nostalgia for the vintage past and the idyllic follies of adolescence. At that age, few things are more devastating than being uprooted from the only community you’ve ever known — but perhaps a new chapter can usher in a fresh start and a reinvented identity.
Editor’s note: This is an Episode 1 review only. For a place to chat about the entire drama, visit the Drama Hangout.
EPISODE 1
After a retro comic book opening set to a delightfully jaunty tune, we find ourselves in 1989, Onyang. We’re back in the days of public shaming by corporal punishment, causing the high school bullies to take their anger out on their fellow classmates. Our gangly hero JANG BYUNG-TAE (Im Shi-wan), who just wanted to use the toilet, walks straight into the midst of the tension — which, naturally, has him added to the punching bag roster.
Some dramaland dads pile up a mountain of debt, and some cause irreversible accidents. Others, like Byung-tae’s dad, get caught running an illegal dancing school. With no choice but to flee from the authorities, the whole family escapes to Buyeo, overloaded taxi and all. They’re welcomed by their ex-neighbor family friends and a big pot of ramyun, regaling them with tales of how their daughter PARK JI-YOUNG (Lee Sun-bin) used to whack Byung-tae when they were kids. She’s mellowed out since, but the awkward Byung-tae can barely hold eye contact for more than a few seconds.
Through a cool action sequence, we’re introduced to the ace fighter JUNG KYUNG-TAE (Lee Shi-woo), whose fists are his biggest claim to fame. The title of Asan’s White Tiger hasn’t been bestowed upon him for no reason — legend says he once defeated seventeen gangsters all by himself. Kyung-tae proves the tall tale isn’t merely hot air by taking out three burly guys that confront him by the creek, which we all know is an excuse to have him look extra suave with water dripping off him.
Kyung-tae’s tussle is interspersed with Byung-tae furiously cycling away from middle schoolers who want to extort his pocket money, ha. As Kyung-tae basks in his victory, Byung-tae comes pedaling through a fog of car exhaust — which results in a hilarious crash landing that sends the concussed Kyung-tae to a hospital out of town.
Mishaps aside, though, Byung-tae’s having a hard time adjusting to the new town. Back in Onyang, he wielded a pencil. Here, he’ll have to contend with hoes and pickaxes — the arsenal of an agricultural school. It’s no wonder he’s having a serious case of first day jitters. Dad dusts his brain, fiddles with the wiring, and finally gets his lightbulb on… which produces the bright idea to have their policeman neighbor drop Byung-tae off at school, wailing sirens and all.
Needless to say, Byung-tae’s grand entrance earns him a spot front and center in the day’s gossip. Onyang is in Asan, so he’s got to be the Asan White Tiger, right? Then part two of Dad’s plan kicks in — Byung-tae saunters up to the classroom podium, challenging the class to a fight. The plan is to scrape by and edge into the middle of the food chain, except the plan goes straight out the window when not a single person has the guts to raise their hand.
Instead, the Gossip Gang approach Byung-tae after class in — where else? — the toilets, where they humbly welcome him to their school, mistaking his penitent kneeling for a new martial arts technique. Byung-tae’s expecting a beating, but his flinches get interpreted as lightning-quick reflexes, since everyone’s under the impression that he’s the best fighter of the century.
Cue: Byung-tae being treated like royalty, having his bag carried for him and getting eternally excused from cleaning duty. He’s treated to a welcome party, where he’s introduced to KANG SUN-HWA (Kang Hye-won), lauded as the prettiest girl in all of Buyeo. The guys wax poetic about Byung-tae’s supposed origin story, which is when our meek misfit finally has a realization, complete with a comically exaggerated, gaping fish-out-of-water reaction. There’s been a serious case of mistaken identity — Jung Kyung-tae, Jang Byung-tae — and he’s gone from the bottom of the food chain, all the way to the very top.
Gosh, is Im Shi-wan knocking it out of the park or what?! His acting skills will never cease to amaze me — gone is his polished idol persona or his genteel Misaeng demeanor. In place, we have a bumbling, blustering, downright endearing boy who’s tripping his way through the trials and tribulations of adolescence. He may find himself in downright absurd situations, but in the microcosm that is high school, every little stumble feels magnified into a life-or-death situation. Byung-tae’s character is handled with just the right amount of earnestness to make his struggles relatable, and just the right dose of fondness to keep us rooting for him.
The first episode may mostly have been exposition for the hijinks to come, but it’s done with such good pacing, complete with impeccable comic timing — then again, I’d expect no less from the PD of The Fiery Priest. In particular, I like how the humor is often found in understated moments, which are creatively and deftly woven into the story. Take the getaway taxi stuffed so full of trinkets that the trunk won’t close, for instance, or the chickens pecking away at Byung-tae’s spilled rice after his fateful crash. They’re the little, amusing idiosyncrasies of life, and they make the drama feel lived-in and full of heart. More please!
RELATED POSTS
window.fbAsyncInit = function() { FB.init({ appId : '127538621120543', cookie : true, // enable cookies to allow the server to access xfbml : true, // parse social plugins on this page version : 'v2.2' // use version 2.2 });
};
// Load the SDK asynchronously (function(d, s, id) { var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/sdk.js"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); }(document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk'));
window.fbAsyncInit = function() { FB.init({ appId : '127538621120543', cookie : true, // enable cookies to allow the server to access xfbml : true, // parse social plugins on this page version : 'v2.2' // use version 2.2 });
};
// Load the SDK asynchronously (function(d, s, id) { var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/sdk.js"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); }(document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk'));
window.fbAsyncInit = function() { FB.init({ appId : '127538621120543', cookie : true, // enable cookies to allow the server to access xfbml : true, // parse social plugins on this page version : 'v2.2' // use version 2.2 });
};
// Load the SDK asynchronously (function(d, s, id) { var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/sdk.js"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); }(document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk'));
window.fbAsyncInit = function() { FB.init({ appId : '127538621120543', cookie : true, // enable cookies to allow the server to access xfbml : true, // parse social plugins on this page version : 'v2.2' // use version 2.2 });
};
// Load the SDK asynchronously (function(d, s, id) { var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/sdk.js"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); }(document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk'));
[ad_2]
Source link