Review: Twenty-Five Twenty-One
Year: 2022
Country: Korea
Platform: Netflix
Twenty-five Twenty One is a coming of age drama elevated by a stellar cast and a thoughtful, moving script to stand out within its genre. Disclaimer, though, I may be biased as I am smack dab in the center of the target demographic of this show’s nostalgia pull. I’m the same age as Kim Tae Ri’s character, Na Hee Do, with a daughter only a year or so younger than hers. That fact definitely colors my perception of the show. But, I feel, also gives me insight on what it is setting out to do and a clear perspective on how successful I feel it was.
In the vein of the Reply series, the show centers on youth’s coming of age in the late 90s and early 00s. The show spans roughly from the IMF crisis in South Korea through the United States attacks of 9/11. The focus is on the transition from teenager to adult within the context of a sports drama.
Kim Tae Ri plays Na Hee Do; her and her rival Go Yu Rim are international level fencers. The show lovingly sprawls through relationships with parents, friends, the struggle of self-discovery, finding one’s path in the world, starting a career and, of course as any KDrama worth its salt, first love.
What sets this drama apart - in my opinion - is what makes it controversial and will potentially render it unpalatable to others and it also cannot be easily discussed without show-ending spoilers. So if you don’t want those, you can go ahead and skip the rest of the review knowing I heartily loved and recommend this drama for its solid writing and acting (Nam Joo Hyuk, as ever, reminding me of why I have such a soft spot for his characters and their awkward charm).
~spoilers past this point~
A common trope in the Romance-heavy drama landscape is the idea of The One. It is not enough for our OTP to meet, fall in love, and be together. No, they must also be fated, destined to meet since childhood, mystically connected all their lives. It is a useful short-hand, a way of confirming to the viewer that once the drama is over and done, the viewer gone, these two are going to remain together in perpetuity (which is often why sequels or continuations is placed where they’re more common are awkward). Fate has declared it so,
To be clear, I have no problem with this trope. It is just one of many in a storyteller’s toolbox: dependent on execution for its success.
However, over the course of life, a person can have many loves, many important relationships. Longevity is not the sole marker or a relationship’s success or value. So it is refreshing to have a show that acknowledges and explores that. A romantic love can be deeply important, powerful and essential to a certain person at a certain time in their life and then ultimately fall apart. The fact that it ended does not render the relationship’s place in a person’s life meaningless and doesn’t have to be torn down because someone eventually has a different life partner.
The show takes pains to show early on and continuously in the flash fowards that Hee Do is not with Yi Jin. He is not the father of her child and she only knows about what’s going on with him in passing. I am sure some may have anticipated a last minute fake out, putting everything right so our lovers can rid off into the sunset, but there is no such moment, nor even the hint of one. The last scene is not a mystical meet-cute. The focus is fully on Hee Do reflecting on the beauty and ephemeral nature of the past.
The relationship is permanently left in the past of Hee Do’s journals and memories. This, for me, renders the entire story all the more poignant, overlaying it with a Romanticism of youth.
I found the ultimate dissolution of the main relationship heartbreaking because it was so understandable and believable. It is not enough to care about someone, to be in love. Relationships require communication skills and cultivation, things that come with experience. It is why first, young love rarely works out. Especially in the late teens/early 20s which is a transitionally period for many people. It is a time of internal growth and self-discovery which is important and not always conducive to building a relationship. (Of course relationships from this age can work out, but it is nice to see them *not* working out and still be important)
As watchers, it is frustrating because we can see what the characters need to do to solve their problems. But the characterization of each lead is so strong we understand why these solutions aren’t possible or readily discovered by either of them.
And so, we are left on this gem-like reflection on the past. It is unclear if current day Hee Do is happy; there is a melancholy to Kim So Hyun’s portrayal of the older Hee Do. And we never see her partner to know how that relationship is. But I find that ambiguity fitting. This show is ultimately about youth, and in ones 20s the future is wholly uncertain.