LOVE, HATE, AND MONEY WITH THE HONG SISTERS
Money has always been an important issue in the Hong sisters’ works. In fact, in their two earlier dramas, Delightful Girl Choon-hyang and My Girl, money provided crucial plot points. The stories often hinged upon problems created by money (and the lack thereof), as those series’ female heroines, Choon-hyang and Yoorin, were brought to their respective dilemmas because of it.
Choon-hyang’s life revolved around money because she had always lived without much of it. Her adolescence was characterized by two things: working hard at various part-time jobs and studying. Excelling at school was essential for someone in CH’s financial straits, who could only hope for upward mobility through academic success. That would in turn lead to enrollment in a good university and a successful future in which she could provide for herself and her mother in comfort.
Although her relationship with Byun Hak-Do begins innocuously, she finds her fortunes in life increasingly bound to his financial generosity. Byun manipulates the world around her to ensure that her financial duress benefits him, with CH’s constant gratitude and her continued presence in his life. Initially he acts out of compassion, setting her up in a new apartment, providing her mother with a job, and using her designs in his movies. However, as he grows more obsessed with gaining her love, his actions cross into emotional blackmail -- he pays off her mother’s sizable debt knowing she can’t pay him back. CH’s sense of honor and pride will not let her remain indebted to him, but every time she attempts to free herself of the burden, he creates more complications.
In My Girl, Yoorin suffers a similar lack of financial wealth, although she doesn’t dwell on her situation as pitiable, choosing instead to look upon her youthful vagaries as exciting adventures and life lessons. Still, the conceit of the series hinges upon her taking upon the role of fake granddaughter to a wealthy man, and although her conscience prevents her ready assent, ultimately she is swayed by promises of money. Her coercion into Gong Chan’s scheme would never have happened if her father had never gambled away his money, if she hadn’t been chased by thugs to vouch for her father’s debt, if she wasn’t in a dire situation, and if Gong Chan hadn’t been rich enough himself to dangle these carrots in front of her nose at her most desperate state.
At one point, Yoorin’s conscience and emotions have taken such a bruising that she wants out of the scheme. Gong Chan attempts to bribe her continued participation by promising a higher salary. She rejects it, thinking her emotional welfare is more important, and is almost able to walk away until Gong Chan throws out a desperate, last-minute enticement: the villa property in Jeju Island. Lest we think too harshly of Yoorin’s ability to put a price to her dignity, we have to remember that all she wanted was a peaceful life unmarred by constant moving and money woes, where she could live happily with her father. In the first episode, Yoorin makes her father the promise to build a home for them on their own land. Although she may dismiss her childhood wanderings with lively tales and a positive spin, the promise of Gong Chan’s villa harkens to her deep-seated wish for security and a stable home. Furthermore, the property is in Yoorin’s adopted hometown of Jeju, making it all the more welcoming.
In Fantasy Couple, however, we see a reversal of sorts. The setup used in Choon-Hyang and My Girl, wherein the poor girl becomes indebted to a rich benefactor, is common in kdramas, and the Hong sisters have fun with the convention to produce many comical moments. But Fantasy Couple marks their departure from the norm by making our heroine -- and not the hero -- the rich, cold character in need of thawing. It’s interesting to note the gender disparity, however, that makes Chul Soo not poor but rather miserly. Had his situation been financially dire, the setup would not have worked in the same way.
I’d venture to guess that gender inequities in Korean society prevent a male lead character from fulfilling his requisite roles of hunky savior of damsels in distress when his wallet is distressed as well. While there are male characters in the K-drama pantheon who have been poor, their financial suffering is played for sympathy. Chul Soo, on the other hand, is merely stingy. Even before we are told he is quite well off, he plays the role of the comical tightwad, suffering indignities to squeeze an extra buck when he has to. Thus Chul Soo’s preoccupation for hoarding money is fodder for humor rather than pity. Instead, the female is brought low, made penniless and identity-less by circumstances of fate, and bound to the male’s side out of sheer necessity. (There’s enough to make a separate social commentary on these gender disparities, but that’s for another editorial.)
Living with Chul Soo, the newly impoverished Sang Shil has no idea of the riches she once possessed, and learns the value of money in a way that Anna never understood. Anna easily spent $1 million on a piece of art, and showered Billy with lavish gifts that were high in price but low in emotional value. Billy felt this lack keenly, and even told Anna once that he’d prefer gifts that were smaller but from the heart. (And yet, Billy himself continued to shower Anna with material gifts that she never enjoyed.)
In episode 14, a flashback shows Anna telling Billy that she had learned early in life to close her heart and open her wallet. Having lost both parents and her grandmother, Anna had lived without family or loved ones from the age of twelve, inheriting enormous wealth in lieu of love. When she had attempted affection, people didn’t bother to hide their annoyance at not having received material generosity instead. One gets the sense that to Anna, money means rather little. It is the things we lack that we desire, after all. Anna’s never lacked for riches but was starved for affection.
All the more reason to find it curious that Anna’s new identity as Na Sang Shil should enjoy money so much. Living with Chul Soo, who values every penny earned and who’s always on the lookout for more opportunities to earn more, she sees how much (and how little) money buys. For the first time in her life, she must endure being without things she desires, like a new washing machine or fashionable clothes. Knowing what she cannot afford makes them valuable because money now represents sacrifice. For every dollar she spends, she realizes there are things she cannot buy. Choices become more real than they have ever been.
Perhaps because money symbolizes work and restraint, Sang Shil finds pleasure in receiving small gifts from the heart, such as the headband Chul Soo buys for her. Gifts have come to represent more than their monetary value. She also learns how actions are as meaningful as material objects, and appreciates gestures of affection and friendship. For instance, the old Anna saw food as something simply to taste good, and not an occasion to spend time with someone. She berates Billy for cooking a meal for her, because his paltry gesture doesn’t compare to a top chef’s culinary skills. Sang Shil, however, is touched by the children voluntarily waiting for her before eating, who considered it more important to have cold pizza all together than a hot one without her.
Sang Shil learns to like money so much that she takes to hiding it around the house, for fear that Chul Soo will take it away from her. She gets a kick out of getting away with using as much money as she can without Chul Soo finding out. Anna was imprisoned by her riches, which simultaneously drew people to her who wanted to benefit from her wealth, while also driving them away, because it separated her from them and left her bereft of true human companionship. In contrast, money gives Sang Shil the ability to freely indulge in her favorite things, like eating jjajangmyun and rice wine whenever she wants.
One difference between Fantasy Couple and the other two series that I appreciated is that here, money is not used to entrap anyone. Choon-hyang was manipulated by Byun’s ability to throw money around, and Yoorin was bribed into posing as an impostor. But neither Chul Soo nor Sang Shil are coerced into action by a puppetmaster wielding large sums of cash. It’s nice to see a drama play out a romance where everyone acts of their own volition. Aside from being more realistic, there’s a sweetness to a relationship when love is allowed to develop and flourish freely.
No, the trials and tribulations of money -- both having too little and too much -- are hardly a novelty to Fantasy Couple. The age-old theme is a particularly popular K-drama convention; take any K-drama and you’ll see the theme prominently displayed. And the majority of those K-dramas play with the familiar setup of poor, virtuous female and rich, handsome benefactor. (Aside from the two others already mentioned, consider the following: in My Name Is Kim Samsoon, Samsoon agrees to contract-date Samshik in exchange for an amount that will enable her to save her family’s house. In Goong, Chaegyung is persuaded to marry Shin despite her misgivings when she realizes her family is being hounded by creditors. In Full House, Ji Eun, scammed of all her savings and her home, agrees to marry Young Jae when he promises to give her the house. And so on.)
Although Fantasy Couple doesn’t break new ground, it uses the money motif to make some keen character points while while at the same time turning the cliché on its head. The result provides us with a refreshing change and some hilarious comedic moments, in true Hong sisters style.