This article contains ocean-size spoilers.
The Eighth Sense
Introduction
This article is an analysis of The Eighth Sense from a subjective viewpoint. In other words, I provide details, make connections to other concepts, while retaining my personal thoughts.
Here, I explore the title’s meaning, the use of motif, the use of color, camera work, editing, film references, LGBTQ representation, and K-drama/BL tropes.
As warned above, this article contains spoilers. I highly recommend that you watch The Eighth Sense first. It was captivating. I loved it so much, it spurred me to start a blog!
Summary
Ji-hyun (Oh Jun-taek), an incoming freshman at a university in Seoul, comes from the Daegu countryside to study fine art. He seeks to face his fears by gaining life experience.
Jae-won (Lim Ji-sub) returns to university following the completion of his military duty. Though he puts on a happy front, he privately suffers from deep emotional trauma.
The story explores the intense attraction between Ji-hyun and Jae-won, the emotional subtext surrounding them, and the balance they strike with each other.
Interoception
There is an eighth sense, which is called interoception. It governs the ability to identify our body’s internal sensations, like feeling hot, cold, hungry, thirsty, sexual arousal, the need to go to the bathroom, etc.. It is where the awareness of our emotional state originates. If we suffer from mental illness or emotional imbalance, the problem is found in our bodies.
For example, traditional Chinese medicine is used to heal mental illness based on particular organs that correspond with certain emotions. These might include liver for anger, heart for joy, kidney for fear, lung for sadness, spleen for worry, and so on.
As we travel the landscape of interoception vicariously through the characters in The Eighth Sense, we experience the balance between physical and emotional states. We ride along with two different relationships, those of Ji-hyun and Jae-won, and Eun-ji and Jae-won. One represents a healthy balance, and one does not.
Eun-ji, the ex girlfriend, desperately wants to have Jae-won back following his discharge from the military. In a bid to win him away from Ji-hyun, she repeatedly pressures him to go to a hotel with her and tries to kiss him, thinking this will appeal to his carnal instincts. She is especially tone-deaf given he’s deeply depressed and potentially suicidal. “Now that you’re back to your old self and doing well on your assignment, I’ll give you a prize,” she says. What is it? You guessed it. A five-star hotel.
On the other hand, Ji-hyun, though physically attracted to Jae-won, cares more about the feelings they share for each other, and how Jae-won is doing mentally. In episode 9, Ji-hyun worries they will lose touch with each other if Jae-won keeps avoiding him. His friend, Ae-ri, advises, “Gently approach him so that he can feel the good memories and emotions he shared with you.” As he goes forward, he consistently lets Jae-won know he cares for him.
Ultimately, Ji-hyun coaxes Jae-won to return to him. He demonstrates a healthy balance between the physical and emotional states, giving Jae-won that healthy refuge he needs.
Even as a modern society, we are still more comfortable with physical over emotional expression, because emotions often represent losing control. You’ve heard that expression, ‘a wave of emotion,’ which calls to mind a dangerous tidal wave. Strong emotions are like a storm at sea, and those with a ‘stiff upper lip’ can withstand the onslaught like the Cliffs of Moher. It is only recently that mental health has been brought onto the stage and given the mic. Being honest about the the way you feel, crying in front of someone, or admitting you suffer depression, is becoming more and more acceptable.
Motifs
Speaking of water, there is nothing on Earth more mysterious than the ocean. Unfathomable depths extend below the surface, harboring alien beasts and infinite blackness. However, in the shallows along the shoreline, waves cascade endlessly onto the sand in a soothing, meditative drone. This is comparable to our own hidden subconscious depths lying under an outer exterior, the part we show others.
Given that The Eighth Sense is partly set by the ocean, I noticed a wave motif throughout the series. Waves are visible, energetic manifestations of physical or vibrational disturbances. They vacillate between leaving and returning, up and down, push and pull, maintaining a delicate balance between two states. One does not exist without the other.
In The Eighth Sense, I think waves are analogous to physical or mental conditions, whether healthy or dangerous, balanced or unstable. If you’re not careful, waves can pull you under. Ji-hyun is literally swallowed by a wave that puts him in the hospital, while Jae-won is figuratively swallowed by a wave of depression following the accident. Both of them nearly lose their lives – Ji-hyun has a near-death experience, and Jae-won considers extreme decisions. Notice that the physical action of the accident triggers the emotional reaction of depression, which alludes to interoception.
Accentuating the wave motif, the camera moves out across the ocean, then back to the shore like a wave during Jae-won and Ji-hyun’s beach excursion. This motif is repeated during their two-steps-back-two-steps-forward dance on the sidewalk at the end of the last episode, in which Ji-hyun basically says they can be there for each other if they take these steps together. On a larger scale, the motif reflects Ji-hyun and Jae-won’s relationship in how they pursue and retreat from each other throughout the series.
The concept of yin-yang is another motif that arises throughout the story. It is compatible with the wave motif. Much like how waves create up and down, in and out, back and forth dichotomies that cannot exist without each other, yin-yang also represents two opposing forces, or two halves of a whole, that cannot exist without each other. Where the wave is a physical object in motion, yin-yang uses mirror images and color to represent these opposing forces (see Camera Work and The Use of Color below).
The implication is that there must be a healthy balance between two people for a relationship to work. You create equilibrium with another person when you learn from your differences yet have things in common, when you know to give each other space and when not to, and when you are sensitive to both feelings and physical sensations alike.
The Agwa Bomb explanation, near the end of episode 7, when Ji-hyun and Joon-pyo go out for drinks, is a wonderful description of these concepts, and an analogy of Jae-won and Ji-hyun’s developing relationship. The bartender says, “Look at the shape of this glass. It has alcohol extracted from the coca leaves and an energy drink separately, like water and oil … You have to meet exactly in this center. Balance is very important. When one side is tilting, the other side supports it. And when the other side is tilting, it’s vice versa.”
This makes me think of that two-steps-back-two-steps-forward dance mentioned above, yin-yang, and, of course, waves.
The Use of Color
Black and White
First, I noticed a black and white color theme on the main leads, similar to the classic yin-yang color combination. In the opening restaurant scene, Jae-won wears a black button-down and Ji-hyun wears a plain white shirt. When they stand next to each other by the claw machine (gotta love that stove lighter), the contrast is very pronounced and introduces the theme right away. The theme is also present between Ji-hyun or Jae-won with other characters in the series, like Ji-hyun’s boss, Jae-won’s therapist, and their friends at different points in the show.
For Ji-hyun and Jae-won, this color theme continues throughout the series. Jae-won dresses in dark shades of black, blue, gray, and brown, and Ji-hyun wears primarily light colors like white and pastel blue, with accents of tan, green, and the odd striped shirt. Jae-won is like yin – dark, depressive, older, and wiser. Ji-hyun is like yang – light, joyful, younger, and inexperienced. By the end of the series, Jae-won adds more light colors to his wardrobe, and Ji-hyun adds more dark colors, which is symbolic of reaching a balance with each other.
They teach each other different things. Ji-hyun faces his fears through the challenges that Jae-won gives him, and he learns to love another person. On the flip side, Jae-won learns to relax his facade and let some joy lighten his sadness, as well as put his needs first.
Array of Colors
The other main color theme I noticed was a specific array of colors. The main colors are blue, green, red, and yellow, with lavender, pink, and tan as accents. The brighter colors are often faded. The red is sometimes an orange-y red, and the blue is often a powder blue. Of course, black and white is present, as already mentioned. These colors are consistent throughout the show, with careful attention paid to their placement in set dressing, wardrobe, and color grading.
I might be thinking too much into it, but this array of colors might represent one of the pride flags, maybe the Progress Pride Flag. Or maybe they represent something different. For example, tan can represent the color of sand. Blue can represent water, feeling sad, maybe Ji-hyun, or Jae-won’s little brother. Green for health. Red for danger or passion. Yellow for the sun. Maybe all of the above. Not really certain about these ideas. Try your hand at taking a guess.
Color Grading
Finally, the series uses color grading on the film to evoke certain moods. For example, black and grey tones accentuate Jae-won’s deep depression following Ji-hyun’s near death experience, and the grief of his friends (episode 7).
In episode 6, the beach scenes of Ji-hyun and Jae-won’s seaside excursion are blurred around the edges, and saturated colors make some of the images look like paintings. They almost look like they’re on another planet, or in a dream, which makes sense. Spending time with someone you’re completely gaga over is a dreamy, otherworldly feeling.
The memory of Jae-won and his little brother going to a camera store is washed in blue, as is Ji-hyun’s present day trip to the camera store to buy an instant camera for Jae-won. Not sure why the directors chose blue. Both leads dress in lots of blue, particularly Ji-hyun. Jae-won’s brother is associated with blue. Perhaps Ji-hyun reminds Jae-won of his little brother. Notice Ji-hyun wears a yellow jacket (left), and Jae-won’s brother wears a yellow sweater (right), which could symbolize a positive feeling, like hope, happiness, or sunshine. In fact, the powder blue and yellow combination is a consistent theme through out the series, usually associated with Ji-hyun, and found in clothing, pictures, media, indoor settings, and outdoor locations.
Camera Work
The Eighth Sense is much more cinematic than the average BL. The camera acts as a third person joining the action, and as a tool to accentuate the subtext and themes of the story. Below are a few of my favorite examples from the show.
POV/Active Participant
The surfing scenes are active and chaotic, with lots of up close white water sprays, underwater angles looking up to the surface, and whirling tumbles inside the waves. It gives the viewer the feeling that they are in the water, too. At the beach, the camera moves in and out across the seascape, mimicking the motion of the waves, as mentioned above in Wave Motif. It makes you feel as though you are the wave itself.
Handheld Camera
The handheld camera is a very common technique, and the filmmakers use it well in this production. There are handheld shots during emotional or uncertain scenes, reflecting that unsteady, shaky vibe. Examples of this are seen in Jae-won and Eun-ji’s break-up scene (episode 9), and also the club meeting following Ji-hyun’s accident (episode 7).
Flipped Mirror Images
Select scenes of Jae-won and Ji-hyun are flipped mirror images of each other, following the concept of yin-yang mentioned in Motifs above. I think the way they pulled this off is super creative. We see these flipped images during Jae-won and Ji-hyun’s subway ride together, standing on the platform and also through the glass on the train (episode 3). These shots may symbolize the concept of ‘my other half.’ Apropos, in Ji-hyun’s liberal arts class at the beginning of episode 8, the Hedwig presenter (see Film References below) quotes, “It is clear that I must find my other half. I have to find my other half. What does this person look like? Are they identical to me? Or do they look the opposite from me? Does my other half have what I don’t have?” Could this also be analogous to yin-yang? Well, yes, I think so.
Then, close-ups of Jae-won’s half-face in the therapist’s room mirror each other (episode 5). As these flip from one to the other, the therapist says, “Don’t you think it might be all because of your brother? Your younger brother who got in an accident while with you, your younger brother who you couldn’t protect…” I think the half-face symbolizes missing his other half, a part of him that was cut away, and by extension, the fear of losing Ji-hyun.
The flipped mirror image happens again in the bedroom scene in Ji-hyun’s dorm room (episode 10). They are laying on Ji-hyun’s cramped single bunk bed, cuddling each other, together again full circle, after their long trial. They’ve found their missing halves and are about to begin the real work of finding the balance between each other. Here is the yin-yang again.
I really love the flipped mirror images. Those are my favorites. I’m not sure if the flipped image technique has been used creatively that much without a literal mirror in the scene, but again, my film and TV repertoire is limited. If you look up flipped mirror images, it seems they are mostly used in advertising. Even if it has been used a lot in film or TV, to me it feels new and fresh in The Eighth Sense. The timing of these three different flipped scenes is great subtextual storytelling.
Editing
I read complaints that the editing in The Eighth Sense confused the viewer, causing them to have to go back and watch a section again to understand what was going on. I also read that the editing was too choppy, acting as a distraction. I mostly disagree. I think many of the editing choices are in line with the creative choices in telling the story. Some instances stand out to me as outside the norm. I’ll give my opinion on whether I think they are misunderstood artistic choices or errors in execution.
First Kiss
This unusual edit occurs at the end of episode 2, where Jae-won yanks Ji-hyun in for a kiss. The shot cuts in mid-yank. For those of us who watched the series in real time, we were left on a horribly tall cliffhanger that lasted for seven painstakingly long days. The second half of the shot, yank into kiss, continues first thing in episode 3. This edit is certainly unceremoniously chopped, but I think it is meant to be.
If the filmmakers had wanted to do a more conventional cut, then they would have filmed the kiss either in two separate parts, or in one shot with a longer hold time for the yank. Something like that. It would be unnatural, but necessary for editing purposes if you want a smooth transition.
It seems the directors of The Eighth Sense chose not to do that. I think their whole vibe for the series is authentic and creative. Therefore, they may have directed the actors to perform the yank and kiss in one organic shot, then cut it in the middle, simple as that. There was just a little bit of slo-mo at the end of the yank on the first cut at the end of episode 2, which helped drag it out some, but not much.
I’m not sure why they chose to make such an abrupt cut, but the clue must lie in how Ji-hyun feels. The cut accentuates his shock at suddenly being yanked in. Just before the scene cuts off, he may be thinking, “What’s Jae-won doing??” Then, next thing he knows (beginning episode 3), he’s being kissed. Along with the shock he feels are maybe excitement and pleasure, which is communicated by dwelling on the kiss through several edits.
This explanation makes sense to me given that the directors are using filmmaking tools (camera, editing, music, color, motif) to flesh out the physical and emotional subtext of the story. It is one of the most creative cliffhangers I’ve ever dangled from.
Aggro Dad
The second strange editing moment occurs in the scene where the father breaks Jae-won’s camera in a fit of anger (episode 5). Jae-won’s little brother had gifted it to him shortly before he died, so it is extra precious to him. I watched this scene a couple times to understand what happened.
First is the cut of Ji-hyun leaving a very drunk Jae-won at his doorstep, then cut to Jae-won waking up hungover the next day. Next, his dad yells at him through the locked bedroom door. Then, Jae-won reluctantly opens the door. So far so good.
Next thing, we are in a blue-tinted memory of Jae-won’s visit to the camera store with his little brother. The sound of his father scolding him is heard over the cut, followed by the sound of something breaking in reverb. You will notice that the breaking sound coincides with a shot of the glass camera case in the memory. After the blue scene is over, it cuts back to Jae-won sobbing and trying to put his smashed camera back together.
This is the only time the editing confused and bothered me some. It would have been nice to at least see a shot of the father’s hand throwing the camera. If they didn’t film a shot of that in the first place, then this confusion isn’t the fault of the editing. As it stands, you may have to analyze the subtleties of the cuts in this scene before it makes sense.
Yoon-won’s Anxiety
Another awkward edit occurs during the meeting between Yoon-won, Jae-won, and Ji-hyun (episode 9). Yoon-won has to get the details of the fated beach trip for a report she’s required to deliver to the school before the surf club can be reinstated. In an effort to save Jae-won further humiliation, Ji-hyun firmly insists that he will write the report himself, then walks out of the room in a bit of pique, leaving Yoon-won and Jae-won in a quiet daze.
The next cut is an extreme close-up of Yoon-won’s face where she is about to cry. It’s the first extreme close-up in the scene and it’s a bit jarring when all of the preceding shots were full-length, torso, and bust or regular close-up shots. Here, I’m on the fence about about whether it was an error in judgment or a successful creative choice. I’m leaning toward the latter because the cut is expressing how a minor shock (Ji-hyun walking out) can trigger a sudden wave of feeling to come on very strong.
I’m sure there are more unconventional editing moments in the series, but these are the ones that jump out at me. Speaking for myself, I like unconventional, creative attempts in any kind of art. Even if it doesn’t work, it’s proof of exploration and an attempt to express something to others. This alone receives my appreciation. So, all in all, I’m a fan of the editing.
Film References
There are a few film references I noticed based on my own knowledge of film. These may be completely off the mark. I don’t know whether or not the directors of The Eighth Sense used any film references other than the obvious two on the top of the list below. For the others, I’m just having fun making leaps.
I’m a Cyborg, But That’s Okay (2006)
Ae-ri and Ji-hyun do a presentation on I’m a Cyborg, But That’s Okay, directed by Park Chan Wook, in their liberal arts class. This film explores the relationship between two psychiatric patients who navigate mental illness together. Mental illness is a shared theme between the movie and The Eighth Sense.
In The Eighth Sense, Jae-won suffers from depression and suicidal ideation. He feels trapped in a box. In I’m a Cyborg, But That’s Okay, Young-goon is delusional and Il-sun is schizophrenic. They are literally trapped in a box (the institution). All of these characters learn to accept rather than try to change themselves, as well as meet people who love them as they are and not as they are expected to be.
During the presentation, Ji-hyun shares his interpretation of the film’s message, “Be who you are and live the way you want to.” Maybe he refers to the stigma of mental illness, or being gay, or maybe no label at all, in which the person feels as though they’re unable to be loved for who they are.
Hedwig and the Angry Inch (2001)
Ae-ri and Ji-hyun’s classmate gives a presentation on Hedwig and the Angry Inch, directed by John Cameron Mitchell. I included a quote by the Hedwig presenter in Camera Work above, but there is more. Additionally, the Hedwig presenter says, “The movie, ‘Hedwig,’ talks about human nature and its fundamental desires. How can we become our true selves? And in the end, is it possible to find your true self?”
This, to me, speaks of being confined by something, like Jae-won’s facade or Ji-hyun’s fears, unable to break away from it and express themselves. Perhaps it speaks of coming out of the closet. Whatever the case, they both want out of the box so they can be free to be their true selves, to “be who you are and live the way you want to.”
La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc (1928)
I was immediately struck by the visual similarities between the head shot of Yoon-won’s face (episode 9) and Falconetti’s in La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc, directed by Carl Dreyer.
In addition to the head shot resemblances, the sense of persecution is also shared. In the film, Joan of Arc is harshly judged for daring to be a military hero, dress in men’s clothing, and be a demonic, evil wench. She is burned to death as punishment. Yikes.
Conversely, Yoon-won only feels persecuted, but nonetheless, persecuted she feels. She has a lot of pressure to find a job, reinstate the surfing club, and please her parents. When Ji-hyun walks out of the room after insisting he write report himself, it triggers a break down. Another possibility is the allusion to Jae-won’s persecution, including the beach excursion report, the Disciplinary Committee for wailing on his shitty friend, Tae Hyung, and his deep-seated belief that he’s responsible for his brother’s death and Ji-hyun’s accident.
In this scene, Jae-won is so gentle and caring with Yoon-won when she cries. Sometimes a hug and a sympathetic ear go a long way in keeping us sane. Jae-won also comforts Ji-hyun after a bad day at work, where Eun-ji makes his life hell for a couple hours. This illustrates how giving Jae-won is to others, but neglectful of his own well-being. It’s so relieving when he finally allows Ji-hyun to love him.
Point Break (1991)
I might be way off, but I noticed parallels to Point Break, the surfing crime movie directed by Kathryn Bigelow. The movie has a learning-to-surf scene on the beach as the waves crash behind Utah and Tyler. Her lessons are way more brutal, though. I’d rather take lessons from Jae-won. Still, the vulnerability of learning something new is the same.
Also, in Point Break, Bodhi and Utah are intensely drawn to each other, similar to Jae-won and Ji-hyun in The Eighth Sense, except their relationship is contentious, not romantic. A slight aside, that’s like saying ‘I’m a lover, not a fighter.’ Could this be a yin-yang dichotomy between two separate shows? Anyway, Utah and Bohdi have fisticuffs all throughout the movie. Like Jae-won and Ji-hyun, they are opposites of each other. Utah stands for order and safety, and Bodhi lives for the ultimate ride. Dude.
Top Gun (1986)
Okay, I know this one is a stretch, but hear me out. The reference I noticed is a very small thing. Just a kiss from the movie, Top Gun, directed by Tony Scott.
After Maverick and Charlie have an intense argument, they make up for it in the bedroom. The kiss in question is a silhouette of their faces in profile as they slowly touch their lips together. It has the visual effect of mirror images that form the outline of a vase.
In The Eighth Sense, Jae-won and Ji-hyun visit a hotel where they spend some intimate hours. They also share a kiss that looks almost identical to the one in Top Gun, except without the tongue (you’ll see what I mean if you watch the whole Top Gun scene – not even going to help you out on that one). Even the position of their heads is the same. I wonder if the directors were inspired by that shot. It, too, is another mirror image, though it is organic and not flipped. It implies real connection with another person, with no artificial separation, or rather, no barrier.
LGBTQ Representation
The Eighth Sense is a story about two people who fall in love. It also happens to be a BL series. I thought LGBTQ representation in this series was understated and organic, which gave the issue more depth. Let’s break it down, shall we?
It is pretty obvious that Ji-hyun is only attracted to men. He does not want to share a Love Motel with Ae-ri. Given that Jae-won dated Eun-ji, his ex-girlfriend, for two years, then falls in love with Ji-hyun, it is safe to say he is bisexual.
Does this matter? It does and it doesn’t. I fell for this series because it is such a captivating, beautifully-told love story. It transcends the BL label because love is universal. But, the details of our identities matter. Diversity is what keeps the world in checks and balances. We need to define who we are, so we can express ourselves to others, and get by in the world. It sure would be nice to do so without the threat of violence or being marginalized and not taken seriously. Yes, things are changing, but this stuff still happens. Of course, this is my personal take on it.
Anyhow, Jae-won and Ji-hyun do not signal their sexual orientation to society at large. Rather than lie, they just don’t share it. However, this is a little grey, because public displays of physical affection in Korea is generally frowned upon, so it is hard to tell if they keep their budding attraction for each other on the down low because of that, or because they are entering a same-sex relationship. It’s probably a combination of both.
Jae-won seems to be more comfortable disclosing his sexuality than Ji-hyun. In the roadside convenience store on the way to the beach (episode 6), he corrects the clerk when asked if he’s traveling with a girlfriend. He states he’s with a boyfriend.
I think through Ji-hyun’s experience more than Jae-won’s, we feel the fear of being exposed, of not being accepted for who we are, and the impact of what we say or don’t say. Ji-hyun is still himself, he just tucks this side of himself out of sight. Thankfully, he is able to find some freedom by the end of the series. He gains acceptance in his social circle and finds someone who loves him for who he is.
I appreciate how this was handled in the show. When I say ‘understated and organic,’ I mean that there is no overacting, no awkward lines, no symbolic sign on their forehead that reads, ‘I’m gay.’ Or maybe I should say, it doesn’t feel forced. All the information about sexual identity, underlying feelings, vibes, situations, etc. are mostly nonverbal subtext, with a few spoken words on the matter.
K-Drama/BL Tropes
I included a section about tropes, partly because it’s fun, and also to highlight the ways that The Eighth Sense uses them, or doesn’t use them, to create a natural, classy BL series. Anyone who has watched their fair share of K-dramas knows there are certain tropes that are uniquely characteristic to them. Examples include the romantic umbrella walk in the rain, dragging the girl around like a rag doll, and many more.
I’m not gay, but I like you.
‘I was straight until I met you.’ Or, ‘I’m only gay for you.’ Which ever way you spin it, it’s a trope found in many BL series, which The Eighth Sense avoids.
Both Ji-hyun and Jae-won know clearly what their sexual preferences are. They don’t agonize over whether they like men or not, and neither of them expresses any surprise over their attraction for each other. There is absolutely no second-guessing themselves in this area. Jae-won does not hesitate to flirt with or kiss Ji-hyun, and Ji-hyun willingly receives his affection. This is refreshing.
The chaebol.
Jae-won is basically a chaebol. His father owns a conglomerate and expects him to take up the mantle. This is as far as the comparison goes.
The word ‘chaebol’ is never used. Jae-won does not wear fancy clothes, nor do we ever see him in a suit. He dresses down. He remains very humble about his background and is able to be friends with a variety of people. There is only the implication that his parents are strict with him about his career choices. We don’t see explosive arguments or groundings. This seems more realistic than the exaggeration of chaebol found in most K-dramas.
The naked-man-taking-a-shower scene.
This trope goes no further than that. Instead of the expected hot guy who shows off his muscles as the water cascades over his abs, we only have head shots and close-ups of Jae-won’s eyes checking out the cutie pie next to him. All is not lost, though. We do see Ji-hyun’s body, which is slender as a willow branch. Not the typical ripped athletic guy.
Tripping and catching.
The worst example of this trope is when a female character, often wearing heels, trips and falls in almost every episode. At the least, a woman trips and falls maybe one or two times in a show. She is almost always caught by a gallant man in a graceful dip.
In The Eighth Sense, near the end of episode 10, Ji-hyun stumbles and trips over the sidewalk. It looks natural when it happens. How many times have you tripped over uneven ground when you were drunk, or even not drunk? The ‘catching’ in this scene shows Jae-won grabbing Ji-hyun’s arm and pulling him upright. It is not romantic at all. He does not swing Ji-hyun into a ballroom arabesque a la Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey (Patrick sure is getting some attention on this post).
Cute, chubby friends.
I don’t know how else to say that without sounding offensive, but it is offensive. I apologize. The fact is, many K-dramas have them. They provide comic relief and friendship support, but not much beyond that. In this series, these character tropes are certainly funny and supportive, but they break out of the box.
Joon-pyo, Ji-hyun’s childhood friend, is a total player, a real man hound, albeit a very nice one. He is good at being non-threateningly dangerous. You could say he is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Also, his emotional reactions to people and things are genuine. He seems like a real person.
Jae-won’s friend, Yoon-won, has a beautiful voice and a warm demeanor. While she is opinionated and confident, she shows a vulnerable side to Jae-won. Like Joon-pyo, she demonstrates a range of emotion, which breaks the cookie cutter template.
Head falls on shoulder.
This trope occurs during the bus trip to the beach, and in the cab on the way to Jae-won’s house.
In the bus, we don’t actually see Ji-hyun’s head fall on Jae-won’s shoulder like we do in other K-dramas. In this one, Ji-hyun’s head is already on Jae-won’s shoulder when the camera cuts to them. We don’t see him nodding off before Jae-won guides his head down with puppy love in his eyes (hurl). Instead, Jae-won happily listens to music.
The same thing occurs in the cab, after Ji-hyun tasks himself with taking a very drunk Jae-won home. Jae-won’s head is already on Ji-hyun’s shoulder when the camera cuts to them. Ji-hyun has the warm fuzzies for it, but seems more concerned with getting his drunk man home.
The jealous ex.
This is the only trope that remains unchanged from what you see in a typical K-drama, except for the ending party scene when Ji-hyun approaches Eun-ji and apologizes for being mean (she is the one who should apologize, but whatever).
In the course of their short conversation, Eun-ji says, “I realized the five senses weren’t everything. Just follow your feelings.” In saying this, she tacitly admits that she relied on the promise of sex to get closer to Jae-won, which didn’t work.
Eun-ji gets a close-up when she says this line. Most jealous ex tropes don’t get that privilege. It is probably the most important line in the story, because it directly relates to the title of the series, in which the eighth sense begets emotions from bodily sensations. Considering her character represents only one half of the eighth sense, and her emotional smarts are imbalanced, it’s no wonder she failed. She serves as a learning lesson.
Other tropes
Food ordered but not eaten. The characters in The Eighth Sense order food and actually eat it. You believe they just might be full by the end of the scene.
There are no ‘thought bubbles’ or interior monologues spoken out loud. You have to observe eye gaze, facial expressions, body language, and organic conversations between people in order to guess what they might be thinking.
No umbrellas. And no rain either, for that matter.
Salivating over a man’s bobbing Adam’s apple while he drinks a beverage is absent. Thank God.
No one is jerked by the arm like yesterday’s rag doll to be stuffed in a car, yanked into a quiet alley and pushed against the wall, pulled outside a large building for a talk out front. My joints hurt just thinking about it.
And no messy toothbrushing with all that drooling toothpaste foam! Yuck. This may not gross anyone else out, but I’ve always had an aversion to foamy stuff. When I see the messy toothbrushing scenes, I gag inwardly. Seriously, can someone explain why this is a trope in K-dramas?
The End!
The Eighth Sense was like a playground for me. Or a superb five course meal. It kept me entertained, provoked, and satiated for hours. This series requires a little more of your attention if you want to understand the added layers of the story. I think this may be why the show is so captivating. Watching dumbed-down fluff certainly has it charm, but it is very refreshing to see something this sophisticated, diamond-in-the-rough as it is.
I was particularly drawn to Jae-won. I could relate to his battle with depression. I found a lyric from a song called Unloveable by The Smiths that fits him well:
“I don’t have much in my life, But take it, it’s yours.
I wear black on the outside, ‘Cause black is how I feel on the inside.”
I’m so glad Jae-won finds love with a sweet, caring person and a path to healing. He was so busy caring for others and trying to take responsibility for things that were out of his control, he forgot about himself.
This was a breath of fresh air. I think I need to go the beach this summer. It might be a good time to watch The Eighth Sense again.
Please drop me a line. I might bite!