Cooking Crush is exactly what you’d expect from a classic Thai Rom-Com with OffGun as the leads—sweet, fluffy, and with enough chemistry to melt even the hardest heart. Or so you'd think. But alas, not even the power of a fan-favorite ship can rescue this drama from the depths of its own lazy directing.

Let’s start with the good stuff, because there is some. We’ve got a cute romance between a culinary student (played by Gun, who looks like he could charm a brick wall) and a medical student (played by Off, who, I suspect, has an entire closet filled with only one personality type). There’s also a culinary competition thrown in for a dash of excitement—although it feels more like a sprinkle rather than a healthy spoonful. As usual, Gun’s acting is top-notch. The man knows how to make you believe he’s head-over-heels in love with a plate of pasta, let alone Off. But there’s one tiny issue: if you pay close attention, it looks like Gun simply can’t—or won’t—kiss Off properly. It’s been said before, but after watching this show, I’ve got to admit, the evidence is overwhelming. If I hadn’t seen them in other shows, I’d assume they had the romantic chemistry of two damp sponges left out in the sun too long.

Then there’s Off. Now, credit where it’s due—he’s improved a lot since Not Me. But while his acting skills have leveled up, his characters? Not so much. It’s like watching his Not Me character with a minor tweak, as if someone said, “Let’s just add a dash of ‘quirky’ and call it a day.” His characters feel so similar it’s hard to tell if he’s playing different roles or just slightly remixing the same one.

On the brighter side, Neo once again shines with his performance—he’s like that extra hot chili in a bland dish, spicing things up whenever he’s on screen. And we get a promising debut from Aungpao, who did surprisingly well, making me hopeful for future roles.

But let’s be real, all these minor acting quirks could be forgiven if it weren’t for the Director, who apparently decided that the easiest route was the best route. And by easiest, I mean he thought, “Let’s have everyone stand still, sit down, or—if I’m feeling really adventurous—lie down while talking. That should cover 85% of the show.”

I’m not exaggerating. A solid chunk of this drama is just characters sitting, standing, or lounging around, delivering dialogue with close-ups of their faces as if they’ve just been told their life depends on nailing this monologue. The scenes play out like this: character A walks in silence from point A to point B (perhaps to get a snack or ponder life’s mysteries). They stop, sit (or stand dramatically), and then proceed to talk—often at great length—with an alarming number of close-ups. It’s like the director found out people sometimes walk and talk at the same time, but then thought, “Nah, let’s not get too crazy with this walking-and-talking business.”

The result is a visual lullaby, lulling you into a gentle state of boredom. There’s no real momentum, and the repetition of these static scenes makes it feel like you’ve been trapped in a loop of endless small talk. I mean, I’m all for character-driven scenes, but this was more like watching people wait for the bus while occasionally talking about their feelings.

If only the director had decided to, I don’t know, add a bit of movement or activity to the scenes? Maybe let the characters actually do something while they talk? But alas, creativity must have been on vacation during production.

In conclusion, Cooking Crush had the ingredients for a decent rom-com—great actors, a cute premise, and a fan-favorite pairing. But due to lazy directing, uninspired cinematography, and a plot that involves far too much standing around doing nothing, it ends up feeling more like a half-baked dish than a gourmet meal. If you’re looking for something light and easy to watch, go for it. But if you’re expecting a culinary masterpiece? You might want to lower the heat.