BLISS RATING: ★★
“An explanation is a truth we dare to tell, an excuse is a distorted truth, and a lie has no truth from the start. If you don’t intent to tell the truth, don’t call it an explanation.” – Quote from Reloved
Sometimes story ideas come along that are so dumb and so mind-numbingly bad, you wonder how you sat through it without completely losing your own sense of reality. Honestly, this is one of the dumbest ideas for a plot I have seen and even adding adorably cute kids to the mix could not salvage this mess. You know you are also in trouble when throughout the series, flashbacks while the protagonists were in college 5 years previously looking the same as they do now. When a series that relies so heavily on days-gone-by without considering that they might have changed in 5 years, you know you have a weak story, and this is one of the most mediocre BLs I have ever seen.
Regrettably, this is yet another saga of miscommunication—this time, at its very worst. The story carried this cross to such an extreme that I wanted to jump into the story personally and just scream in the very first episode, will the two of you simply sit down and talk to each other as adults! Sanely. Rationally. And stop with the artificial drama. If they had done so, the story then perhaps would have been forced to have a theme worth exploring. Instead, it droned on and on and on about missed windows of opportunities. All because basic, and I do mean simple basic questions from the beginning were not ASKED.
Than (Peter Paratthakorn) and Akin (Golf Kunavut) had been lovers in college. While Than was younger than Akin, he was deeply and passionately in love with Akin. That was established early on. Yet, Akin, perhaps because of unknown personality flaws, always seems to doubt Than. Akin picks up Than’s phone one day and hears something that he completely misinterprets – not by a little but by a lot. He then breaks off all communications with Than. Can you say inextricably?
By chance, they meet again now some 5 years later. Than is currently head of a sports gym in the same building where Akin works. Than is taking care of a niece while Akin has taken on the responsibility of being a father to Mawin, whom he originally thinks is Than’s son. The story is replete with nonsensical situations like this, making the entire story self-implode and demolish itself. It is implausible from the beginning and remains implausible throughout. What gives this story character and a saving grace are the two children. They are simply adorable and are the glue that keeps this mess somewhat cohesive and entertaining. If it were not for them, these two protagonists would have had no substance at all.
The only reason I did not glum over this series is because there is a secondary love story that is surprisingly strong, poignant, and well-developed, even though I do not think that it was intended to be so. And honestly it seems so weirdly out-of-place. Akin’s coworker named Pond (Bee Apisit) in all candor is so much more dynamic than either Akin or Than. He is not only ruggedly and hypnotically handsome but also endearing in the sense that he says what he means and means what he says. It is quite refreshing to have an upfront character for a change. Almost immediately, he gets into a conflict with the new client, Don (Year Chotritud). However, we sense that it is more like sexual tension conflicts and sexual innuendo banterings rather than one of professional disagreements. These two develop a hot and erotic romance which does lead to much stronger feelings for one another. Despite that, Don was and remains not ready for their relationship to be made public. This causes tension between him and Pond, as Pond does not want to stay “unseen”.
Their liaison takes on surprisingly dynamic twists and turns that, if actual, seemed rather genuine and brutally honest. Both need to let the other know how they feel and where they stand emotionally. And that they did do. There is little doubt that this relationship could have developed into a strong and meaningful attachment, rather than the trivial portrayal demonstrated by Than and Akin. However, for some unfathomable reason, their relationship was not meant to be.
It is not that tragedies, to be sure, do not happen in real life; they certainly do. And this mishap was plausible, but it was just so unexpected since the diegesis seemed so much like a rom-com or light fluff. It appeared from a production standpoint – ‘out of place’. And frankly it all seemed to be handled so ineptly in total. The catharsis in this tragedy is at the end, ironically at the wedding of Than and Akin. Pond’s vulnerability and exhaustion becomes visible, allowing us to sense his internal pain. We see that he deeply loved Don; a love that unfortunately will never be. For a secondary love story, their connection far outshined and overshadowed both in depth and in intensity the one Than and Akin supposedly had all along. Simply put, Year and Bee need a series for themselves. They have such screen chemistry and a strong natural attraction to one another. They fit together like a hand in a glove. Their believability factor is off the charts. It is rare, very rare, for me to regard a BL Thai couple to be in love but Year and Bee did that effortlessly and naturally.
Who really S.T.O.L.E. this series? The children are the real stars here. They are scene stealers and are so natural at it. It is hard to not appreciate their instincts to be children and hence are children, naturally. Arathorn Chulkiat as Mawin is an ingénue in soft, gentle ways. His cherubim face and infectious smile simply captures every scene. Not to be outdone is his ‘older sister’ Nene (actress unknown) who with her charm and angelic face dominates the scenes she and Mawin are in. But they do so with pure acting finesse and personal charm. They exude pure joy and innocence.
Overall, this series is an incoherent mess and no amount of cuteness from Mawin and Nene can save it from itself. The story is unfathomably dense, filled with flashbacks that do not fill in any blanks but only add to the chaos. As stated, when you rely on flashback continuously, you have a bad story. You learn nothing about Akin or Than except that Akin always looks like he is in a constant state of sadness and Then appears to have reached his maximum dose of happy pills every day. Akin never learned to trust Than and Than should dump Akin for being a complete Milquetoast and moronically emasculated by others along the way.
The production tried too hard to cover up the flaws of this series by making it cute. They presented a wedding scene that would make sugar seem unsweet. Yet none of it seemed or felt real. So many caricatures with no substance. With barely any reference or mention to the tragedy of someone who lost the love of his life. But I guess ‘life must go on’ mantra being paramount and the proverb ‘when one door is closed, another one opens’ is the obvious philosophy of BLs. Like these phrases, which are trite and seem empty to me, the story ends up being meaningless as well. I am getting so weary of solutions to stories that are obvious from the first episode – COMMUNICATION.
This is a frustrating and boring series to watch except for the poignant but albeit short connection between Pond and Don. The story germinated good ideas but could not get out of the flaw that kills most BLs from Thailand – lack of communication and/or miscommunication and honesty.
Enough already.
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