When Life Gives You Tangerines: Episodes 1-4
by Dramaddictally
Netflix’s period drama When Life Gives You Tangerines makes an amazing start with its take on love, loss, humor, and hardship — not to mention the return of Park Bo-gum. I was jazzed up by the leads, the set, and the love story — but, as it turns out, it’s the history and larger themes that have me hooked.
EPISODES 1-4
This is a romance, but it’s also a story about women — generations of women in a family, as well as the spaces women have been boxed into (or out of) historically. I wasn’t expecting this much depth when I went in, but the first four episodes (which mark the first of four “seasons” in these character’s lives) are packed with politics, history, culture, and struggle. Anyone who’s a fan of the Answer Me series will likely find something to love in this drama.
Episode 1 starts in 1960 and it’s mostly about the relationship between our heroine, OH AE-SOON (played by child actress Kim Tae-yeon during this segment), and her mother, GWANG-RYE (Yeom Hye-ran). Our story is set on Jeju Island — a place buried in myth and rumors — where Gwang-rye singlehandedly supports her three kids working as a haenyeo (one of the famed female deep-sea divers of Jeju, who earn a living by selling the seafood they catch).
The family is dirt poor. Gwang-rye’s first husband died (that’s Ae-soon’s father) and now she’s supporting her unemployed partner, BYEONG-CHEOL (Oh Jung-se), and sent Ae-soon off to live with her birth-father’s family. And right away, we see glimpses of the day-to-day discrimination that’s in for our women characters as Ae-soon isn’t fed the same as the boys.
Initially, the mother/daughter dynamic is that Ae-soon is desperate for her mother’s attention, while Gwang-rye is brusque, ignoring her daughter’s bids for affection. But our ten-year-old heroine has the heart of a poet and when Mom finds one of Ae-soon’s poems, worrying about her mom, expressing loneliness, and vowing to someday be the breadwinner, she’s moved to tears — and action.
She storms into the house where Ae-soon lives with her uncle and his family and starts wrecking the place, asking if the fish is so expensive that they can’t feed her daughter the same as the other kids. She takes hold of Ae-soon and brings her home to live with her, where the two develop a new relationship.
From there, we see Gwang-rye go to extreme lengths to try to ensure that Ae-soon does not follow in her footsteps and become a haenyeo — which is dangerous work, and which Gwang-rye is ill from. But this is also where subtle politics enters the picture, mapping the times in post-war South Korea. For example, when Ae-soon wins her fellow students’ votes to become class president, the teacher awards the position to another student, who’s a boy, but also the son of a general.
The drama does a balancing act between showing us the political (and gendered) realities of the times with newspaper headlines and radio voiceovers (Look out for spies! Denounce the mini-skirt!), but also letting the camera settle on the moonlit sea as traditional music plays — a reminder that people find beauty in the darkest of places.
When Gwang-rye hears about the class-president thing, she breaks her back to get some fancy attire and pay off the teacher, but Ae-soon says she’ll settle for VP. Gwang-rye tells her not to settle: “I’m the poor one, not you. Don’t hold back. Live your life to the fullest.” Yet, as the show goes on, we see that circumstance, more than ambition, will determine both of their lives.
Gwang-rye keeps diving, even though it’s killing her, saying she’d rather die working than begging. We learn that at that time, the average Korean lifespan was 52, and when Gwang-rye is finally taken away from Ae-soon for good, she’s only 29. (The actresses playing the haenyeo are older than their characters, showing how their work has aged them, which makes this revelation feel even more shocking.)
Following her mom’s death, Ae-soon wants to abide by her mother’s advice and return to her uncle, so that she can go to college, study Korean literature, and become a poet. But Byeong-cheol convinces her to stick around and help him raise the two younger kids. She learns to farm and cook, and by the time she’s a senior in high school, he’s still giving her excuses to stay behind and help him out with the household.
When we see her selling cabbages in the marketplace, it’s 1967 and Ae-soon is now played by IU. Except, she’s not actually selling those cabbages herself. The cute little boy who followed her around during all of their childhood, feeding her fish when she had none of her own, is doing the work for her. This is YANG GWAN-SHIK (Park Bo-gum) and he can’t see anything but her.
The thing about Gwan-shik’s character is that he’s set up from the very beginning to have his heart set on Ae-soon. What’s interesting, though, is that his actions are so simple, there’s really nothing romantic about his pursuit — which makes the entire thing somehow more romantic. However, it confuses Ae-soon. He’s feeding her, carrying her stuff, selling her produce — does he pity her or what? “You think I gave you fish for ten years out of pity?” he responds.
And while the drama has made sure to keep a light tone up to this point, the interactions between these young-adult leads are when the fun starts. We begin to get glimpses of another timeline, in the early 90s, where Ae-soon has grown kids of her own. We know the story we’re seeing in the 60s is really a memory — it’s a story being told about the past.
This gives the drama the freedom to embellish and make a tall tale out of what happens between Ae-soon and Gwan-shik back then. It’s got a hue of nostalgia, but it’s also got the hindsight of people who survived something. It might not have been funny then, but it sure is funny now — and that’s the story we get to see as viewers: the way they remember it, not necessarily the way it happened. And in this tale, our born-into-poverty protagonists are epic heroes.
The primary conflict at this stage is that Gwan-shik’s halmeoni doesn’t want him marrying Ae-soon. She’s got nothing going for her, according to Grandma, and she and Gwan-shik’s mother will do anything to keep them apart.
To Gwan-shik’s credit, he’s 100% on Ae-soon’s side. He’s not scared of his grandmother, but he is worried about how Ae-soon will be treated in his family if she enters it. Beyond that, he’s got to convince Ae-soon to get onboard with a marriage. She’s determined to find a way to get to Seoul and go to college — why would she marry an island boy when she could find a guy in Seoul?! But really, for all the temper and attitude she gives Gwan-shik, she really wants him to make a move (not just keep trying to feed her fish).
One day as they’re walking home through a field, he finally goes for it, grabbing hold of her hand, which she’s already put in his jacket pocket. Then they have their first awkward kiss, totally tensed up and unsure how long to hold the pose. It’s what she wanted, but still, she’s not going to marry him, she says.
That is, until she runs out of options.
We learn that Byeong-cheol has a new woman living with him (supporting him) and she doesn’t want Ae-soon in the house. He has no money to send her to college like he promised. And her uncle wants her to go work in a factory in the city and send money home. No money, no family, nowhere to turn, she runs to Gwan-shik.
This could have been a really sad and dramatic moment, but that’s not the tone of this drama. Instead, she’s sobbing so much that she’s almost unintelligible, but we can still hear her insulting Gwan-shik for “just being a guy from Jeju.” For his part, he only wants to be what she wants him to be, and he starts trying to recite some poetry he learned. He’s not good at it, and she just wants him to shut up and go back to taking care of her, which is what he’s good at. They hug, and the next thing we know, it’s 1968 and the two are running away together.
Ae-soon steals a bunch of jewelry and clothes from the woman living with Byeong-cheol, and Gwan-shik robs his mom and grandma. Then, the two lovebirds board a boat for the mainland, posing as a newlywed couple (though they’re still minors). Again, the lives of our leads line up with the political terrain of the country as their asked for ID during a hunt for North Koreans. The voiceover tells us there was a recent coup, but it “wasn’t as revolutionary as they’d hoped.”
And wouldn’t you know it, you could say the same for this runaway plan.
They land in Busan, try to sell the jewelry, and are rebuffed because it’s obviously stolen and they’re clearly underage. So, they try to get a motel for the night and are robbed of their stolen goods by the couple who owns the place. They get tossed out in the street, with nothing to their name, not wanting to go home, when they decide to steal back their twice-stolen loot.
They sneak into the motel at night, but are only able to get the cashbox. Just as they’re about to escape, the couple’s kid starts screaming and they’re chased into an alley by the motel owners. The wife tackles Ae-soon while Gwan-shik runs off ahead. She tells him to go without her, but instead, he throws down the cashbox and takes a flying leap at the husband, as Ae-soon headbutts the wife.
It’s our OTP’s first fight, but luckily it’s not with each other.
After the police station, Gwan-shik’s mom tracks them down, gets back her jewelry, and takes the pair back to Jeju. And this is when we see how awful the repercussions are for Ae-soon compared to Gwan-shik. Rumors go around about her (she spent the night in a motel with the guy she ran away with). She’s expelled from school. And Gwan-shik’s family hates her even more now.
Gwan-shik only gets a warning at school and there are no rumors that’ll “ruin his reputation.” He’s holding onto the idea of Ae-soon (kneeling before her uncle), but Ae-soon is way down in the dumps feeling hopeless. She’s convinced (by her family and Gwan-shik’s) to go out with a divorced dad who’s much older than her. He’s rich — and “willing” to take her in because he needs someone to raise his kids. He’s even willing to “overlook her past with another man,” he tells her at their first meeting, as he screams at the café staff (hint: this guy is abusive).
Gwan-shik is just a crying mess now, in tears in front of anyone with authority, trying to convince them that he and Ae-soon should be together. But when he finally drags her away from the guy she’s supposed to marry and presents her with a ring, it’s Ae-soon herself that says it’s never happening. This rich guy will send her to college so she can be a poet, and then no one will speak badly of her again. “Let me change the fate you pity,” she says.
Gwan-shik asks if he’s standing in her way. She basically says yes, telling him that he has to leave so she can live her life. And then he’s full on crying again. They part ways and she’s set to marry this other dude, when we learn that she let Gwan-shik go because of something his mother said: that Ae-soon was the one standing in Gwan-shik’s way. Essentially, they both backed away from each other for the same reason.
And without Ae-soon to follow around and care for, Gwan-shik really has no life. His only ambition is to be by her side — she’s the one with all the hopes and dreams. And yet, the culture and society are telling her no and slamming the door.
The day comes when Gwan-shik’s family puts him on a boat to the mainland to pursue athletics. And it’s the same day that Ae-soon is being fitted for her wedding clothes. As the minutes tick by, Ae-soon realizes that she can’t do it. She runs from the store, all the way to the pier where Gwan-shik’s ship is already far off in the distance. It’s raining, she’s in her new skirt suit, and she sits on the pier and sobs, calling his name — until she’s sobbing, “Mom! Mom!” And it looks like our heroine has lost everything, as she knows it.
Gwan-shik — in this epic tall tale — hears his name from afar, sees her on the pier, and jumps ship. Then, in a matter of minutes, he courses through the water like a sea animal until he reaches the rocky wall of the shore, scales it, and grabs Ae-soon in a tight embrace. They’re crying, hugging, shaking — until the punchline: “I have to pay for these clothes!” Waaaa. Haha.
We see them in the 90s timeline again, where the older Ae-soon (Moon Sori) is at home with her daughter, YANG GEUM-MYEONG (also played by IU) and Gwan-shik’s now-grown-up baby sister, GYEONG-OK (Seo Hye-won). We learn that the night in the motel in Busan resulted in Geum-myeong, who was born eight months after the wedding (soon after that pier incident). But when Geum-myeong was born, the 18-year-old Ae-soon dropped her aspirations, fell in love with her new daughter, and decided to embrace her role as a mother and wife who stays at home.
We get scenes of the young couple with their new baby, both of them beaming with happiness. But at the same time, they move in with Gwan-shik’s family, where Ae-soon is abused by her mother-in-law, as well as Gwan-shik’s grandmother. The bond between Ae-soon and Gwan-shik is strong, but she never tells him what happens to her in his absence.
Still, like her own mother, Ae-soon wants more for her daughter. “I don’t want her to set the table, I want her to flip the table,” Ae-soon tells Gwan-shik, asking for his help in standing up for Geum-myeong against his mom and grandma. She wants Geum-myeong to do whatever she wants, not only the things “allowed” for girls. But the older women stand by traditional gender roles.
Gwan-shik defies these gender roles in a lot of ways, right from the beginning. For instance, when they were kids, and Ae-soon told the haenyeo that she was going to be president one day, the women asked Gwan-shik what he wanted to be. “First Lady,” he answered. And when it comes time to stand up for his wife and daughter, he uses that defiance in small ways that mean a lot — like sitting at the same table as them during family meals, and letting his female child have all the food she wants, even though it’s supposed to go to the men.
When Gwan-shik’s mom and grandma decide that Gyeom-myeong should grow up to be a haenyeo, Ae-soon thinks of her own mother — how she lived and how she died — and flips out. She won’t allow that for her daughter, she says, before getting slapped in the face. Gwan-shik comes home from work just as this happens, grabs his wife’s hand, picks up his daughter, and says to the other women in his family that they won’t see them again. They leave, and that’s that.
But, they’re broke living on their own. In order to pay the bills, Gwan-shik takes a job on a fishing boat, working for the abusive ass that Ae-soon was supposed to marry. He never tells Ae-soon who he’s working for, but she starts to realize he’s coming home with bruises all over him. Pregnant for a second time, Ae-soon marches to the dock, kicks the guy in the shin, and says her husband isn’t working there anymore. And that’s the sendoff for “spring” — as we wait for next week’s installment, which will take us into the summer of these character’s lives.
Wow. I would love to go into more depth about this, but I think you should just watch it. I thought this was going to be a romance, focused equally on the two characters, but this is more Ae-soon’s story. And as we see further into what’s happening in the 90s timeline, with the grown Gyeom-myeong also planning to marry — and also sitting before a horrible soon-to-be mother-in-law — I’m enthralled with what this drama is saying about “progress.” There are the obvious nods to politics and economics as we see the recent history of Korea, but the thread about women — which is connecting the societal level changes with the lives of these specific characters — is nicely done.
On one hand, we see that Gyeom-myeong is working a corporate job in the 90s — meaning women have entered this sphere. On the other, her prospective mother-in-law is telling her to quit and stay home when she gets married. Plus, she’s got the baggage of knowing her own mother wasn’t able to go to college — even though her husband wanted her to go and succeed.
But the really interesting dynamic, which is well observed on the part of the writer, is that Ae-soon wanted to work so her mother didn’t have to. When she couldn’t save her mom, she tried to save herself, and finally, she put all her efforts into her daughter. But in the next generation, Gyeom-myeong is supporting herself partially due to those efforts and she talks back to her mom, saying she doesn’t want to end up like her. It’s a fascinating shift, where Ae-soon’s motivation was to take care of her mom, and Gyeom-myeong’s is to not suffer like her mom. The story has me in its claws, waiting for more on this theme of what it means to progress.
Apart from that: Park Bo-gum is back! And who knew I missed him on my screen so much. He just lights up the place. I love how he and IU are handling the humor here. With the strategy of the show to take us to the brink of sadness and then pull back into jokes, they’ve got the right level of playfulness. I will be very happy to stay with this one to the end, through all the small sufferings and larger oppressions — as well as all the simple love and big messages.
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