#os goblin

[episodes-outside-seoul]

Goblin, final verdict

This show has a lot to recommend itself. Its production values are excellent, its cast is charming, and it establishes an intriguing mythology based in Korean folklore. It even sidesteps my usual complaint about the work of writer Kim Eun Sook: its male leads aren’t flaming misogynists. Instead, they’re decent guys who treat their love interests with respect.

Even I adored the first few episodes, during which we came to know orphaned Eun Tak and her Seoul, a workaday city that just happens to be brimming with otherworldly beings, from ghosts and gods to reincarnated kings and queens. Growing up, Eun Tak had heard whispers that she shared a special fate with the most interesting creature of them all–an all-powerful Goblin who was born as a warrior during Korea’s Goryeo period. To this embarrassment of riches, add an adorable bromance, a cute second lead couple, and ladies who take care of other ladies.

Sounds great, right? For me, at least, all these positive aspects were more than outweighed by a few negative ones. Goblin’s bloated running time served to highlight just how little meat its story offered. If it hadn’t been almost twice as long as a regular sixteen-episode drama, its padding might have been a bit less grating. And if the show had been built around a couple I really loved, I might have been able to overlook its saggy-baggy story. But the icky age difference between the lead couple almost totally prevented me from enjoying their time together–middle-aged Gong Yoo and wet-behind-the-ears Kim Go Eun is not a pairing that ever should have happened. They’re both good actors, but even they can’t overcome their uncle/niece vibe. Plus, the show’s entire premise becomes a frustratingly moot point with its closing moments. Kdramas dealing with the supernatural hardly ever have satisfying endings, but this finale–not unlike the series itself–is just exhausting in its pointlessness. B-

[episodes-outside-seoul]

Goblin, 16

So the very end of the Goblin. He’s still the Goblin and she’s still the Goblin’s bride–which means we’re right back where we frigging started. Although not as epically awful as the Big finale, I’m still not sure why I bothered to watch a show in which literally nothing happened. Will he really never die? What about all that “back to nothing" business that the entire show was predicated on? :: kicks Kim Eun Sook ::

[episodes-outside-seoul]

Goblin, 10

Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo and Goblin are perfect examples of how (and how not to) write drama relationships.

The leads in Weightlifting Fairy are always joking and chattering about random things when they’re together. Their connection feels real–they’re first friends who like to be together, and second a romantic couple.

In Goblin, things are totally different. The leads share nothing but their purported romance. It’s their only topic of conversation, and the only reason they’re ever together. They get no joy or happiness from just being with each other. There’s never a moment when they feel compelled to share something just to know what the other person would think about it–instead, they keep secrets because the show needs a narrative, not because their characters have believable motivation. Their romantic feelings for each other are a route plot point, not something earned or developed.

[episodes-outside-seoul]

Goblin, 13

No wonder they're having production problems with this drama: This episode is an hour and 25 minutes long. That's a movie, not a tv show.

[episodes-outside-seoul]

Goblin, 9

I could easily forgive all of Goblin’s failings if only its lead couple had some kind of chemistry. (See Descendants of the Sun, for example.) Unfortunately, they don’t, and that means watching new episodes feels like a chore instead of a pleasure.

[episodes-outside-seoul]

Goblin, 13

I should have listened to Dramabeans ages ago–it’s really only necessary to watch the last ten minutes of any given episode of this show. The rest is mostly flashbacks, filler, or romance that gives me goosebumps (in a bad way). Throughout this big cliffhanger, all I could think was how powerful the scene would have been if I were emotionally engaged with either of the lead characters. But I’m not.

I don’t know where everything went wrong. This show had a great beginning, but somewhere along the way it lost sight of the human dimension of its world. Splitting the available screen time between a lot of big-name actors and even bigger name product placement certainly didn’t help. It diffused the central narrative and made the drama into a story that belonged to nobody in particular. There’s no beating heart in this mess, which makes it awfully hard to care about.

[episodes-outside-seoul]

Goblin, 13

Ugh. If they don’t lay off the skinship, I may need to drop this show after all. When the Goblin put his head on Eun Tak’s lap, I was literally flooded with a wave of disgust. This age difference might not be illegal, but I don’t like it one bit.

[episodes-outside-seoul]

Goblin, 13

Like me, someone who's involved with this drama likes to chew on pens. And like me, they've had a black pen explode in their mouth. And voila, creepy Goryeo ghost was born.