Once upon a time, there was a girl who naively believed that the vast majority of Korean dramas were creative works worthy of recognition on the global stage. That girl is dead. This is the drama that killed her.
Welcome to Episode 3 of Cinderella and the Four Knights. Things have been pretty standard thus far, but the descent into bad begins now.
Cue the opening credits.
Someone in the art department saw The Lego Movie, and thought that was just what they needed. But if you were hoping to see The Helmeted Avenger as a Korean Lego Batman, you will be sorely disappointed.
Each character is introduced as a self-assembling Lego figure that poses seductively but cannot move or emote.
It’s a very chipper sort of introduction and one that contrasts starkly with the opening scene of today’s episode.
In case you’ve forgotten (and I don’t blame you if you have), our heroine Eun Ha Won has had a rough couple of days. First, she has to give up her college tuition in order to pay the rental fee at the crematorium that is caring for her mom’s ashes. She tries to make a few extra bucks by posing as Lip Smackers’ fiancee, but that backfires horribly and places her in the national spotlight. Then Absentee Dad steals the aforementioned ashes. And when confronted, he tells Ha Won she is the product of an extra-marital affair. He also makes it pretty clear that he wants her gone, so Ha Won obliges. Carrying nothing but the clothes on her back and her mother’s ashes, Ha Won walks out into the pouring rain and a very uncertain future.
And that’s when the Cult of Haneul gets her.
A simple phone call from The Chairman is all it takes to seal her fate. Ha Won finds herself an inmate at Haneul House, charged with the responsibility of molding The Chairman’s three grandsons into “decent human beings”. The only condition? ABSOLUTELY NO DATING.
Never mind that you’re a young girl living with three extremely handsome, extremely wealthy young men, all of whom are very single and look incredibly sexy when slow-motion walking through the rain. DATING IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN.
We good so far? Good. Because, unlike Dickens, I don’t get paid per word. In fact, I don’t get paid at all.
Ha Won sits in her perfume-scented bath and relives all of the horrible things said and done in the last few hours. Her dad slapping her. The truth of her birth revealed. Evil Stepmother telling her to just go away…she slips down below the surface of the water as though to drown all of the sad.
If there’s one thing this drama loves, it’s swinging wildly between moods. Cue the handsome men. The three Kang cousins are assembled in the living room. They’re wearing the same clothing as before but are miraculously dry.
Well, we didn’t get the hover-boards we all wanted, but at least we got self-drying clothing.
Ji Woon lounges against a wall wearing his finest, most practiced scowl. Busker Chic (I decided to upgrade him from Homeless Chic because he’s wearing a nice sweater today) is busy texting, and has forgotten to turn the sound off. I do so love the tap tap tapping of another person’s texting. Lip Smackers is sitting on the couch, pouting over the misfortune of having to share space with his cousins. The Butler enters, and begins to explain the new living arrangements. Basically, they’re exactly the same except now they have a homeless high schooler staying in the spare bedroom. Oh, and ABSOLUTELY NO DATING.
Objections are immediate.
Ji Woon also raises the obvious objection. How can no dating be allowed if Lip Smackers is already engaged to her? The Butler is on the verge of *finally* revealing what should be clear from five minutes’ observation: There is no engagement. Lip Smackers just likes to pay randos to pretend they’re dating him…when Lip Smackers springs from the couch and pulls The Butler aside.
Nothing suspicious to see here, folks. Nothing at all.
“Please don’t tell them the truth!” pleads Lip Smackers for reasons that will never be explained.
I suspect it has something to do with the writers needing more filler material.
The Butler is unmoved. “We should be honest,” he says, and moves to leave.
“No, can’t you see it’ll be safer to just keep up the act?”
Lip Smackers is desperate. Again, no idea why.
Meanwhile, Ha Won has emerged from her bath and sets about drying her clothing in the most inefficient, most sad way possible: hair dryer.
Her only pair of clothing dried, she sets about finding a suitable place for her mom. There really isn’t anywhere good at the moment, so she stashes mom under her bedside table.
Ha Won still hasn’t had anything to eat, so she ventures off to the kitchen. It is there she meets the housekeeper, Charming Rustic Accent.
Charming Rustic Accent is from a rural town somewhere down south, and has all of that pushy southern charm that Seoulites think is so quaint and delightful.
Until you apply for a job in Seoul and get turned down because no one can understand your accent.
Charming Rustic Accent mistakes Ha Won for “the new help” and drags her out of Haneul House and off to the servants’ quarters. Ha Won is delighted with the lack of pretension (probably just happy to see books at eye level), and is just about to settle in when The Butler appears.
CRA is forced to grovel before a girl half her age because Confucian values only matter if everyone is equally poor.
As they walk back to the house, Ha Won protests The Butler’s treatment of CRA.
“Wasn’t that a bit much? I’m just another employee.”
“But she’s twice my age!”
“But it’s just not polite!”
This gripping conversation is interrupted by the loud rumbling of Ha Won’s stomach.
Ah yes, the growling stomach trope. My favorite drama bodily sound effect, second only to the ill-timed bowel movement.
At the command of Ha Won’s stomach, The Butler transforms into Sexy Chef Butler.
There is an unspoken law that every romantic drama must include a scene wherein the male love interest cooks for the female protagonist.
Ladies, if dramas give you any ideas that Korean men are these culinary masters, let me set the record straight. Korean men are just like other men. Some of them can cook, but many more limit their cooking prowess to the boiling of water (for ramyeon) and the grilling of meats. Now back to the show.
With great flourishing movements designed to excite the impressionable female, The Butler chops, stirs, sautés, and fries. He makes spaghetti in clam sauce.
Yum! Let’s eat–
Then Jjajangmyeon.
Okay, that may be a bit much, but we can still put that away–
Then he deep-fries an entire chicken.
ARE YOU FEEDING AN ARMY?
Why do rich people in dramas always use Western-style utensils? Is that supposed to be some marker of sophistication?
Apparently, yes, this house only stocks forks and knives because The Butler hands Ha Won a pair of wooden chopsticks. You know, the kind that come with your late-night delivery of sweet and sour fried pork and will inevitably splinter all over your mouth after a few bites.
My husband used to stock up on these “for an emergency”, and I finally threw them away. I don’t think he’s noticed.
As Ha Won chows down on the first real meal she’s probably had in years, a smile forms on The Butler’s otherwise cold and rigid face.
Her meal complete, Ha Won decides to take a short tour of the living arrangements. She comes face-to-face with everyone’s favorite secretly lonely guy.
“Ugh. Lift of your arms.”
My friends, if someone tells you to lift up your arms, and your first reaction is this…
…Congratulations, you’re a pervert and I hope you die alone and friendless.
Ha Won heaves a deep sigh. “Higher. HIGHER.”
Lip Smackers Pervert Edition complies and Ha Won moves to punch him in the ribs. Somehow, he counters her punch and pulls her into a warm embrace. They stare deep into each other’s eyes. Lip Smackers smirks confidently while Ha Won looks confused, uncertain whether to resist or to allow herself to be drawn deeper into the entangling folds of his fine, woolen sweater. Music swells that’s more of a sound effect than a sound track. It gives the impression of sparkling lights and magic fairy dust, of romantic potential just waiting to be tapped.
“I told you,” murmurs Lip Smackers, “I told you I’d protect you.”
Ha Won breaks the embrace and hurries off to her own bed. But she just can’t get comfortable. Three eligible men! What’s a girl to do? Sleep eludes her.
There must be a law somewhere that says the number and size of one’s pillows must increase in proportion to one’s wealth.
Unable to rest on her bed of pillows, Ha Won seeks a more comfortable alternative, one that bears a closer resemblance to her previous sleeping arrangements.
Meanwhile, The Helmeted Avenger is out for a late night stroll…or so he wants you to believe. He’s actually seeking out the solitude of his bat cave.
He enters a dust-filled, cobweb-strewn room full of half-constructed motorcycles and boxes of mementos. Everything is covered in plastic sheeting. He heads straight for a small box buried in a corner. Wiping off the coating of dust, he pulls out an old photograph and stares at it, tears in his eyes as sad music plays.
See? Rapid mood change.
Resolve tightens within his chest. Resolve to find out why the Kang family seeks to erase his identity as a Han.
You already know the answer. Your grandfather is an arrogant, controlling prick.
Ha Won awakens the next morning to a text from her best friend, Vacuous Mouth Hole.
Ha Won informs her friend that she’s now living at Haneul House. Vacuous Mouth Hole doesn’t even bother asking why. Instead, she demands a constant stream of selfies. Ha Won obliges by showing off the ease with which the LG G3 takes high quality selfies.
Take note that that is NOT a Mac on her desk. Yes, the shape is vaguely apple-ish, but Apple knows better than to let their logo be seen in association with this show.
Ha Won now ventures outside her room and notices something that she should have seen last night.
Not only does she lack privacy, but she also has an unwelcome neighbor.
Lip Smackers takes this opportunity to send Ha Won a suggestive text message. “Hey girlfriend. I know you miss me, but I’m not appropriately dressed right now. Don’t worry. We’ll have time to catch up later.”
Burn it. Burn it all down.
Ha Won wonders who resides in the other room and decides to investigate.
Okay, stop. Stop. Not only are the fourth walls of every bedroom a giant sheet of glass (affording zero privacy in the one area where one needs privacy the most), but they also OPEN OUT ONTO A COURTYARD. Two words: Korean seasons. First, there’s the obvious one. Winter. Winter is cold and long and miserable. I’m sure the residents of Haneul House will love the draft or the fact that you have to bundle up in a parka just to get to the kitchen. Then there’s summer. Humid and equally as miserable as winter but with the added bonus that you can now enjoy your breakfast with a fresh sheen of sweat from stepping outside for less than a minute. Then there’s spring and fall. Such lovely seasons, were it not for the mosquitos. Enjoy not sleeping, as every time you open your bedroom door a fresh batch of hungry pests will find their way inside. And let’s not even mention all that polluted air wafting over from China. TRULY HANEUL HOUSE IS A MARVEL OF MODERN ARCHITECTURE.
Meanwhile, Haneul’s army of indentured servants gets to work steam-cleaning the carpets and caring for the grounds. It’s kind of like those montages of servants doing quaint servant-y things you always see in period pieces about young women with a fancy for poetry being romanced by gentlemen with fifty thousand pounds to their name, but with a deep sense of meaninglessness. Perhaps it’s because all of these people are faceless drones employed by cult. Ha Won returns from her morning walk to find the dining room table set with a full gourmet spread. She has a seat at the table and waits patiently for the others to arrive. She waits a long time.
The Butler informs Ha Won that the Kang cousins have never once dined together. Yet the kitchen staff slave away every day. Each meal is prepared with loving detail then left to sit untouched and unappreciated until it is removed for the next meal. Such is The Chairman’s will.
They can’t, like, eat at different times? Or take their meals to go? What a disgusting waste of perfectly good food.
Speaking of The Chairman…
Wait a second. Something is off here. Let’s get another look.
This can mean but one thing.
The Chairman gives Ha Won her first challenge: Get the Kang cousins to participate in the delightful Earth tradition of eating together.
Let’s hope this doesn’t go down the same dark path as that other Twilight Zone episode about humans and eating.
The Butler now sits Ha Won down and presents her with a thing straight out of another franchise with the word twilight in it.
Meanwhile, Absentee Dad is off again. His parting words to his wife show him to be a man of strong conviction. “That girl will probably come crawling back here. Don’t let her in.”
Once in his car, he receives an update on a developing plot line.
He drives off to meet us in the next episode.
Just then, The Butler arrives to dish out some sweet, sweet revenge.
Or rather, a polite rebuff because this show has no sense of the dramatic and would rather delay the gratification of seeing Ha Won’s shitty family get their comeuppance. Anything to keep the viewers engaged.
Oh wait, we are not engaged because this disjointed episode that stumbles from one unrelated scene to the next has all the entertainment value of watching a colostomy bag fill up.
“Ha Won was personally invited by The Chairman and is now residing at Haneul House. I require her possessions. It is The Chairman’s will.”
Just don’t tell her it’s a cult run by an insane extraterrestrial.
The Butler is almost home with Ha Won’s belongings when he receives an urgent call. He abandons his charge and runs off.
Ha Won gets right to work making mealtime happen. And what better way to get into someone’s social graces than to stalk them? She follows Ji Woon into his bat cave. She doesn’t even knock. She just walks in.
Privacy is overrated.
“Is it your habit to invade people’s personal space,” asks an irate Ji Woon.
For some reason, Ha Won seems surprised by his reaction, even though when they last met in episode 2, they expressed a mutual desire to kill each other. She strongly denies having any nefarious schemes, so Ji Woon jumps to the obvious conclusion.
“Are you crazy?” Ha Won turns to leave, and it is in that moment that Ji Woon springs into action. With the reflexes of a man accustomed to punching thugs in the name of truth, justice, and the Korean way, he grasps Ha Won, pulling her close and spinning her around. Her face expresses shock as she meets his steady gaze and finds herself paralyzed in his arms. She can feel his minty-fresh breath on her face, the ripple of muscles under his shirt. They stand there for a second that stretches into a lifetime, a second pregnant with possibility. The music swells again. It’s that same tinkly, magical sound from before, only slightly louder and more insistent this time.
They break apart.
“What the hell is wrong with you,” sputters Ha Won. “I told you I’d kill you if you ever touched me again!” She decides to kill him later. It seems better to flee the room than to face the pecs of doom unarmed as she is.
Will she ever kill him? Sources say not likely.
It’s only after she leaves that Ji Woon turns to glance at the razor-sharp saw protruding from a tool box mere inches from where her neck would have been a moment before. He sighs heavily.
See? He was just embracing her because he wanted to protect her from a slight scratch. Because that’s always the obvious solution to safety hazards. And explaining your actions is overrated anyway.
In her haste to escape, Ha Won runs directly into her luggage and sends it tumbling into the conveniently placed artificial stream. As we all knew would happen. In despair, Ha Won plunges into the freezing cold water to retrieve what looks like a year’s supply of free make-up samples. “I guess this is a metaphor for my life,” she reflects sadly.
It could be worse. You could have an audience.
Busker Chic is concerned and rushes off to fetch a net. Lip Smackers, on the other hand, considers it his sacred duty to stand by and offer useless commentary.
“Look at all this garbage!” he exclaims as Ha Won’s suitcase floats past.
This man has the tact and charm of a dead mouse.
There must be a rule that the Kang cousins simultaneously gather at least once every episode because Ji Woon suddenly appears. He scolds Ha Won for causing trouble for others, though what exactly that trouble is and why it’s her fault is uncertain. He does all of this while she’s shivering with cold and clutching a bouquet of dried flowers that were intended to be a gift for her mom.
Forget the dead mouse. This man has the tact and charm of a deer just as it collides with your new car.
Eventually, there’s a blowout fight that isn’t even worth bringing up because there are no consequences and it’ll all be forgotten in less time than it takes to read this paragraph. Ha Won goes back to her room and applies her trusty hair dryer yet again. Sad music plays to indicate that everyone feels sad. It isn’t really clear why they are sad, but just know that they are sad. Ji Woon is the saddest of all. I’m sure he’s just misunderstood and deep down under his ass-like exterior is a pure soul with all the warmth of freshly baked cookies.
And so it shall come to pass that all sadness shall be wiped away with the swipe of a credit card. The time has come, as it always must in every drama, for a wealthy man to buy clothing for a poor woman. For The Chairman has beheld Ha Won’s lack of clothing and deemed it improper for a girl to be seen in the presence of wealth dressed as she is. And, as always, The Chairman’s will shall be done.
The Butler tells Ha Won not to worry her pretty little head and to just go do girl things like drink an overpriced latte while admiring designer handbags.
No, really, that’s what he suggests.
Ha Won agrees that she’s much too unsophisticated to shop for herself. She exits the shop and runs right into a Grumpy Old Bitch with a crocodile skin bag.
I really appreciate how, in just two episodes, Ha Won has gone from a badass with killer take-down instincts to a bumbling idiot who can’t punch, can’t avoid sharp or stationary objects, and can’t recognize an obvious scam when it’s screaming at her from beneath a thin veneer of knock-off Sephora.
Just when things are starting to look serious, Ha Won is rescued by…well, it was about time she showed up.
Mannequin declares the handbag to be an obvious fake, then invites Ha Won to have the coffee she was already on her way to buy. They have a truly riveting conversation.
“YOU MUST BE SO HAPPY TO BE DATING LIP SMACKERS. I SURE WISH I COULD BE HAPPY LIKE YOU.”
And the conversation is mercifully murdered by the arrival of The Butler, who sees nothing wrong with announcing Ha Won’s current living arrangements. And he’s right to do so because Mannequin is so upset by the news that she immediately leaves.
CHAIRMAN BE PRAISED. I am, however, offended by her complete disregard for the lovingly crafted ice Americano in front of her. Vietnamese coffee farmers nobly sweated and bled for those beans, only to be paid a pittance so that Big Coffee could charge you $9 for a shot of espresso and some water. Show some Chairman-damned respect, you capitalist pig!
As it turns out, the costume department spent all of their budget on the Kang cousins’ magical, self-drying wardrobe, so there’s nothing left for Ha Won. She forces The Butler to return every outfit except a tracksuit that’s almost identical to what she has, except this new one is *fancy*.
Subtext: Ha Won is unrecognizable unless she’s wearing a tracksuit.
I’m starting to think that Ji Woon is Mannequin’s totally platonic booty call because every time she is sad because Lip Smackers doesn’t love her (which, if you’ll notice, happens about every 20 minutes), he shows up to comfort her. Or rather, stand next to her in a monotonous art space.
“I just don’t get it,” pouts Mannequin.
I’m running out of ways to say he’s just not that into you.
“I can’t stand it anymore,” she continues, with all the emotion of a bloated corpse releasing gas, “I’m going to go talk to Lip Smackers right now.”
I’m sure this will go really well for you.
Back in her sub-desk bed, Ha Won receives a series of texts from Lip Smackers.
“Come here. To my bedroom. I have something for you.”
Ha Won ignores him. No one ignores Lip Smackers.
With her innocent uniform held hostage, there’s nothing Ha Won can do but submit to the will of Lip Smackers.
And suddenly, Ha Won feels the Power of the Lips compel her. She rushes into Lip Smackers’ outstretched arms and moves in for the kiss that will seal her fate forever.
JK. She head-butts him as hard as she can and makes a grab for her uniform.
Did you get tricked? Lip Smackers sure did. The writing is inconsistent, but it’s not THAT inconsistent.
Right?
RIGHT?
Despite years of training in martial arts, Ha Won’s fake-out is a complete failure. Lip Smackers easily foils Ha Won’s wild swing and encircles her in his arms. He is warm and smells vaguely of lavender. He pulls her closer. Ha Won is helpless to resist. “You’re getting more and more interesting,” whispers Lip Smackers, as he draws her mouth closer to his own.
Oh, hey. Look who’s here!
Ji Woon looks up and sees Lip Smackers’ glossy lips about to touch Ha Won’s and knows that, were Mannequin to see this fateful kiss, the shock would kill her.
Please. Let it happen. End her misery.
There’s only one way to save Mannequin.
The same music plays that we’ve heard at the end of every episode thus far: the vaguely hip hop beats and back-up singers going “woooooah wooooooooah”. We get a panoramic shot of both couples. Ha Won’s confusion. Lip Smackers’ self-confidence. Ji Woon’s desperation. Mannequin…well, Mannequinning. The episode ends. Finally.
Tune in next time to find out if episode four will feature this show’s first kiss or if you’ll have to wait longer for some actual payoff.
Na Nun Ajumma 