A simple show about a young woman navigating life. And it is a most extraordinary show.
Simplicity is one of the most confounding and elusive qualities in any context. Take a stroll through a supermarket and try to count how many brands of bottled water are on the shelf. It’s just water. They are just putting it in a bottle. But there are countless variations of it. Spring water. Sparkling water. Distilled water. That’s just some of the kinds. A product as common as an apple can be green or red and within each of those colors are multiple varieties each with their own combination of sweetness, tartness, firmness and suitability for eating raw or baking or to be used for cider or sauce. Simple things that somehow complexity mushrooms out of seemingly without end.
“Yumi’s Cells” is, on its surface, a simple show: a young single woman navigates her career and personal life. The narrative device of animated cells, each of which are responsible for a particular trait of her personality, is intermittently inserted to illuminate her inner mental and emotional processes and how they manifest in her behavior.
While the combination of animation and live action may be novel (at least in Korean dramas), that’s not at all what is remarkable about “Yumi’s Cells”. That is not to say that the animation is not terrifically entertaining. It may not be Pixar quality work, but the cells are mostly cleverly written. The dynamic between the primary logical cell and emotional cell helps keep a bit of a de facto organizational hierarchy. The cells add more than a dash of humor and some of it is in moments where a bit of lightness is decidedly welcome. Done poorly, these segments could have been dead space fillers. But they instead both advance the narrative and entertain simultaneously.
The quality of the animated scenes, however, is secondary to the live action. The production here is perhaps not award-winning, but it has a lovely OST. The photography is well done. The wardrobe, particularly with Ahn Bo Hyun’s Wung, has some standout contributions. But this is, on the surface, a simple show: a young woman navigates her career and personal life. Massive amounts of cgi and a thundering score would be woefully out of place.
As for the supporting cast, its purpose is mostly to provide scenery as Yumi and her inner cohorts navigate daily life. Lee Yoo Bi stands out a bit as Ruby. Park Jin Young is mostly in a half catatonic trance as Yu Ba Bi, but that may be by design. But this is not an ensemble show and the ups and downs of the minor characters are barely on the relevance spectrum here.
“Yumi’s Cells” has three things that shine and shine brightly. One is the editing of each episode and how it so cleverly advances the narrative. No shows, or at least very very few, proceed through time in a straight linear fashion. All feature some manner of flashbacks or time skips or possible futures. Here, although there are flashbacks, it is more that the action is revealed not in a linear sense, but in increasing magnitude of importance. But it is done in a way which does not require a viewer to have a degree in quantum physics to follow. They are simple stories, but revealed in a complex manner. The storytelling is absolutely masterful. Concealed things are revealed at the most opportune time. The pace of how the story progresses within each episode never lags. And although it is a simple show, there is an incredible amount of suspense and it is so cleverly and slowly ratcheted up to a climactic moment. It is a simple show and it simply executes brilliantly.
In addition to the narrative, Yumi and Wung are not just immensely adorable, but they are painfully realistic and relatable. These are not chaebol heirs or hero cops or exorcists or genius orphans. They have anxieties and are emotionally scarred and don’t say the important things that they should say and they don’t always understand each other and they say part of what they need to say but never say the most important part of it and they hurt each other and they hurt themselves and they have all these flaws and, despite all of these things, they still find a way to intimately connect as human beings. And they struggle as two people intimately connected. It is one of the most honest depictions of a relationship in any medium.
The centerpiece of all of this is Ahn Bo Hyun as Wung and Kim Go Eun as Yumi. For Ahn Bo Hyun, this is new ground, both in terms of the personality of the character he’s playing and the magnitude of the role. If there is a theme in his previous roles, it’s testosterone with a side dish of not exceptionally intelligent. Physically, he’s not transformed beyond the hair and a few whiskers. Frankly, his impressive physique is one of the few out of place elements here. Wung is eating, hanging out with Yumi, eating and hanging out with Yumi or coding for hours on end. That distraction aside, Ahn Bo Hyun is a delight as the very left-brained, somewhat awkward but massively good natured and warm Wung. He has range. He has talent. And this is a role that suits him. Quietly, especially towards the end of this run, his depiction of a character who is lost internally but desperately trying to keep it buried is painful and lovely to watch.
As a swirling ball of earnest, bright, vulnerable and determined, Kim Go Eun is magical. She’s had no shortage of starring roles on blockbuster shows. But unlike those roles, here she’s the straw that stirs the drink. Not only that, but as the show is so deeply focused on Yumi, it is her performance that the success of the show largely hinges on. As the show delves deeper into Yumi’s character, Kim Go Eun’s portrayal grows more layered and nuanced. She hits all the notes in the emotional spectrum. She displays both speaking and physical prowess as an actor. The performance may not have a singular spectacular moment, but it is so uniformly deftly accomplished.
Separate, these two leads are wonderful. Together, they are indescribably transcendent. And the show as a result is a marvel.
Overall, it is a show - a simple show of a young woman navigating her career and personal life - that has seamlessly integrated exceptional lead performances and superb storytelling into a captivating package.
Recommended for everyone without any reconsideration, reservation or regret, as “Yumi’s Cells” is the most outstanding drama of 2021.
“Yumi’s Cells” is, on its surface, a simple show: a young single woman navigates her career and personal life. The narrative device of animated cells, each of which are responsible for a particular trait of her personality, is intermittently inserted to illuminate her inner mental and emotional processes and how they manifest in her behavior.
While the combination of animation and live action may be novel (at least in Korean dramas), that’s not at all what is remarkable about “Yumi’s Cells”. That is not to say that the animation is not terrifically entertaining. It may not be Pixar quality work, but the cells are mostly cleverly written. The dynamic between the primary logical cell and emotional cell helps keep a bit of a de facto organizational hierarchy. The cells add more than a dash of humor and some of it is in moments where a bit of lightness is decidedly welcome. Done poorly, these segments could have been dead space fillers. But they instead both advance the narrative and entertain simultaneously.
The quality of the animated scenes, however, is secondary to the live action. The production here is perhaps not award-winning, but it has a lovely OST. The photography is well done. The wardrobe, particularly with Ahn Bo Hyun’s Wung, has some standout contributions. But this is, on the surface, a simple show: a young woman navigates her career and personal life. Massive amounts of cgi and a thundering score would be woefully out of place.
As for the supporting cast, its purpose is mostly to provide scenery as Yumi and her inner cohorts navigate daily life. Lee Yoo Bi stands out a bit as Ruby. Park Jin Young is mostly in a half catatonic trance as Yu Ba Bi, but that may be by design. But this is not an ensemble show and the ups and downs of the minor characters are barely on the relevance spectrum here.
“Yumi’s Cells” has three things that shine and shine brightly. One is the editing of each episode and how it so cleverly advances the narrative. No shows, or at least very very few, proceed through time in a straight linear fashion. All feature some manner of flashbacks or time skips or possible futures. Here, although there are flashbacks, it is more that the action is revealed not in a linear sense, but in increasing magnitude of importance. But it is done in a way which does not require a viewer to have a degree in quantum physics to follow. They are simple stories, but revealed in a complex manner. The storytelling is absolutely masterful. Concealed things are revealed at the most opportune time. The pace of how the story progresses within each episode never lags. And although it is a simple show, there is an incredible amount of suspense and it is so cleverly and slowly ratcheted up to a climactic moment. It is a simple show and it simply executes brilliantly.
In addition to the narrative, Yumi and Wung are not just immensely adorable, but they are painfully realistic and relatable. These are not chaebol heirs or hero cops or exorcists or genius orphans. They have anxieties and are emotionally scarred and don’t say the important things that they should say and they don’t always understand each other and they say part of what they need to say but never say the most important part of it and they hurt each other and they hurt themselves and they have all these flaws and, despite all of these things, they still find a way to intimately connect as human beings. And they struggle as two people intimately connected. It is one of the most honest depictions of a relationship in any medium.
The centerpiece of all of this is Ahn Bo Hyun as Wung and Kim Go Eun as Yumi. For Ahn Bo Hyun, this is new ground, both in terms of the personality of the character he’s playing and the magnitude of the role. If there is a theme in his previous roles, it’s testosterone with a side dish of not exceptionally intelligent. Physically, he’s not transformed beyond the hair and a few whiskers. Frankly, his impressive physique is one of the few out of place elements here. Wung is eating, hanging out with Yumi, eating and hanging out with Yumi or coding for hours on end. That distraction aside, Ahn Bo Hyun is a delight as the very left-brained, somewhat awkward but massively good natured and warm Wung. He has range. He has talent. And this is a role that suits him. Quietly, especially towards the end of this run, his depiction of a character who is lost internally but desperately trying to keep it buried is painful and lovely to watch.
As a swirling ball of earnest, bright, vulnerable and determined, Kim Go Eun is magical. She’s had no shortage of starring roles on blockbuster shows. But unlike those roles, here she’s the straw that stirs the drink. Not only that, but as the show is so deeply focused on Yumi, it is her performance that the success of the show largely hinges on. As the show delves deeper into Yumi’s character, Kim Go Eun’s portrayal grows more layered and nuanced. She hits all the notes in the emotional spectrum. She displays both speaking and physical prowess as an actor. The performance may not have a singular spectacular moment, but it is so uniformly deftly accomplished.
Separate, these two leads are wonderful. Together, they are indescribably transcendent. And the show as a result is a marvel.
Overall, it is a show - a simple show of a young woman navigating her career and personal life - that has seamlessly integrated exceptional lead performances and superb storytelling into a captivating package.
Recommended for everyone without any reconsideration, reservation or regret, as “Yumi’s Cells” is the most outstanding drama of 2021.
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