K-drama Drama

Crash Landing On You Made Me Into a Weepy, Emotional Basket Case

I don’t want all the feels!

Dear Netflix,

I am writing to complain about a program on your streaming service that I found to be both inappropriate and upsetting. I felt tricked. Deceived. The advertising for the program was false in such a way, I think, as to deliberately draw the unwary — possibly even the children! — into the sinewy tendrils of its insidious plot, theme, and message.

Crash Landing on You, a supposedly innocent and virtuous entertainment, took advantage of my weakened state in this difficult time, exploited my vulnerability, and, frankly, unmanned me. I — a completely normal, American, White male — was turned into a weepy, emotional basket case.

The title of this program, Crash Landing on You, led me to believe that the movie would be about a plane crash of some sort. That’s reasonable. Like that movie, Airplane!, where the guy is like, “It’s coming right at us!” And then he sniffs glue and makes a cool joke about quitting — but he’s not going to quit. And the demure, White nun talks “jive” in the way that Black people were stereotypically rendered at the time. That was good stuff! I thought we’d get something like that only better, because in this program the plane would actually be crash landing on someone — presumably “you”. Someone was going to have a plane crash right on top of them. That’s high concept. That’s good writing. If I were to come up with that idea, I would say, “My work here is done. Let’s go have burgers.”

But that’s not what this program is about. Honestly, at first I wasn’t sure what the program was about. Yeah, there was hang gliding and a tornado, but does Netflix not realize that Crash Landing on You is completely not in English? I know! Someone at Netflix had ONE JOB, and they blew it.

Yes, there are subtitles, but I should not have to read to watch a program about crashing! Do you read when you watch The Fast and the Furious or Mad Max? You do not. So, when I saw the words begin to scroll across my screen, I refused. I could have read them. Sure. I have that capacity. But I would not. I would not.

Until I did. Until your outlandish — but wholesome and compelling — plot, and your silly — but comedically charming and absolutely endearing — characters drew me in. Omigod, everyone in this program is so improbably good looking! I could not avert my gaze. Who knew that a Captain in a brown great coat and a CEO in a massively voluminous sweater could be this attractive? Entire flocks of sheep were shorn to make those sweaters, and the effort paid off.

Quid accidit, Netflix? So much goodness. So much tension! And that villain! Jo Cheol-gang! Booooo. Hiss. We knew immediately he was the villain because he’s the only person in the cast with an asymmetric facial feature. Effective lamp shading, Netflix. Well done.

So, you got me. Good for you, Netflix. Good. For. You.

The dilemma of Seo Dan and Goo Seung-Joon wrecked me. The emotional fortitude of Ri Jeong-Hyeok’s mother caught me completely unawares. I was beside myself watching the dirty, rotten, lousy, stinking, no good, awful scheming of the brothers. Oooooooo, I hate them! And the gentler moments, like when Ri Jeong-Hyeok and Se-ri were standing three feet from each other, staring into each others’ eyes, and then they would move to within two feet of each other! Oh, man! Holy cow! Phwaw!

Chaste is the new sexy, I think. And that thing that happened — to both of them, I ask you, both of them! — and the watch that Ri gave his brother! And Man Bok. Man Bok! How could you break my heart like that, Man Bok? I’m not crying. You’re crying.

A friend has pointed out to me that the tags in Netflix label Crash Landing on You as “swoon worthy.” At which I scoff. “Scoff!” Firstly, I do not swoon. Secondly, is swooning something one is “worthy” of?

You can be worthy of praise. You can be worthy of condemnation. You can do something that is worth a reward. But would I say to my son, “Well done on that math test, William. Shall I swoon for you?” Maybe if they had said “swoon warning,” Netflix would have a leg to stand on.

My friend also points out that the show was recommended by a middle school girl — the daughter of my buddy, Steve, who has never done anything like this to me before — and maybe that should have been a clue as to the nature of the program. To which I reply, “Yeah, okay. Fair point.” Sigh.

Look. I’m a reasonable person. Tough but fair! But I am not made of stone, Netflix. All I want is a little warning if your plan is to lay waste to my tender, tender heart.