Descendants Of The Sun: Why Song Joong-ki, Song Hye-kyo’s confession of love remains the most intense in K-drama history

So what was so magical about the show?

The beauty of many South Korean shows is that they know just how to appeal to the die-hard romantics, the lovers of mush and cheesiness, so that they can just about get away with thin storytelling. It works, no doubt. Descendants Of The Sun sees an unlikely love story between a captain of the Special Forces Unit in South Korea, and a steely-willed doctor. He’s a tough soldier named Yoo Shi-jin, who risks his life and has to gun down threats; she, Mo-yeon, believes in saving lives. They meet in South Korea, date for a while, and she gets annoyed that he keeps ditching her on their romantic evenings. On realising that he’s a soldier, she realises that their ideologies are poles apart, and they part ways. They meet again, eight months later in the fictional country of Uruk, where she is posted as a medical volunteer. He is a ‘peace-keeping’ agent. After earthquakes, aftershocks, kidnappings, bomb explosions and a virus leakage, they find their way back to each other. Happy endings for everybody, you can raise your glass of Soju as toast.

(Photo: Viki)

The magic of the show entirely lies with the chemistry between Song Joong-ki and Song Hye-kyo, even overpowering Hyun Bin and Son Ye-jin from Crash Landing On You, which had a similar arc. Perhaps it was Joong-ki’s ability to deliver heart-stopping romantic lines without being cringe worthy at all, his straight-faced and deadpan humour, coupled with Hye-kyo’s dazzling smiles and repartee. In fact, when Joong-ki was asked about ‘embarrassing lines’ in the script, he told Korea Herald, “Some say that the script was cringeworthy, and I respect those opinions as well. I didn’t feel that way. I felt confident that I could process the script and deliver the lines in my own style.” He was right.

He also expressed his fears that viewers won’t relate to the relationship between Si-jin and Mo-yeon. “I felt that the kissing scene between Shi-jin and Mo-yeon happened too soon. I thought viewers wouldn’t be able to relate to a relationship that moved that quickly. But I was wrong. Viewers loved it.”

Song Hye-kyo later said, “He played his role so well, which even made my heart flutter,” said Song. “After I finished filming in December, when the drama was aired, I watched it as a viewer and fell for his charms. After all, I’m really happy that the drama ended well.”

The chemistry between both of them was electric. One particularly poignant scene was when Shoo-jin displays his complete faith in Moo-yeon completing a surgery of a UAE prince—something that could result in his dismissal from the army. Yet, it’s the manner in which they both look at each other, as guns are drawn between the South Korean soldiers and the UAE guards. While K-drama couples have had their share of loving and intense scenes, DOTS continues to remain an epoch—because it had actors, who could communicate desire and understanding through glances.

The professions of love are not exactly textbook either, and yet it hits hard. In one of the crucial love scenes, Yoo Shi-jin, who has kissed a surprised Mo-yeon, asks her, “Should I apologise, or should I confess my love?” He hears an accidental, hilarious confession of love—one that she makes just as she thinks that she’s going to die—but she refuses to accept it. Later, when they’re sitting on a truck to get back to camp after navigating a minefield, she tells him gently that she wants to spend more time with him and not go back to Seoul. She responds, “That was my confession. Should I apologise?” He answers quietly, “How do you know I’ll accept your apology?” And the two of them share a proper kiss, this time. This was one of the best love confessions, as it was refreshing, superbly intense and no words were wasted, neither did the makers rely on tricks like rain to emphasise the point, or one of them being held at gunpoint. There was a powerful undercurrent of intensity, that overpowered the normal sugariness of a K-drama.  It wasn’t saccharine or overtly sweet (which isn’t a fault) that other K-dramas show, the chemistry just felt that inflammable. Even their reunion in the final episode had similar tones, where Si-jin returns after being thought dead. Again, not too many words are spoken, it’s all said through a few tears and a quiet apology.

I’ve always enjoyed watching the love confessions in Korean shows—be it Gong Yoo or Kim Go-eun in Guardian: The Great And Lonely God, or Nam Joo-hyuk and Bae Suzy’s sweet confession ‘Why do you like me’ in Start Up. They’re all syrupy sweet—no complaints most of the time, but it’s hard to find the intensity that was between Song Joong-ki and Song Hye-kyo, who had a bit of both.  Lee Min-ho has strived to be this intense in many of his shows, but unfortunately his character is usually a bully, or a toxic stalker, so it’s hard to take him seriously. Nevertheless, he comes a close second with Kim Go-eun in The King: Eternal Monarch, though he didn’t quite need the horse and sword to drive home his point.

Even the second lead couple, played by Kim Ji-won and Jin-goo had their own charm, though her father, who didn’t want his daughter to be with a sergeant and was spewing ultimatums, constantly disrupted their love story. This plotline is not novel at all for those who have grown up on Bollywood—we’re used to desi dads offering blank cheques, hollering at potential sons-in-law to prove themselves.

The brotherhood between the soldiers, especially Shi-jin and Dae-young was heartening to watch as well — enough to convince viewers of the implicit trust that they had in each other. The sweet friendships between the doctors and the soldiers were also just as heart-warming, and thankfully there were no messy love triangles.

(Photo: Viki)

Confusing fluff to cover plot-holes

Stilted Americans and the baffling and mangled politics aside, DOTS didn’t quite go beyond being just a love story, and all the seemingly troubling plot points were resolved within an episode. You knew that if someone were going to catch a virus, they’d survive it. They’ll survive with a bomb vest too—because apparently it’s just that easy to take down American gangsters. They can survive an explosion too, as well as earthquakes of terrifying magnitude. In short, there was no severe threat to any of the leads, and so the opportunity of more emotional scenes were missed. Some characters who showed promise were shoved to the side after a while, and we never found out what happened to them. The only side character whose plot got enough justice was Jung-joon, a North Korean soldier, whose presence loomed over the entire show. It finally paid off—as he was the one who rescued Shi-jin and Dae-young from a dire fate.

The show had potential to be more powerful with its realism, but perhaps not everyone looks for that all the time when watching television. Sometimes, you just settle for what you get, and if that includes Song Joong-ki and Song Hye-ko sitting on a truck of hay while professing their love, you take it.

There’s something memorable about watching your first Korean show, and despite all its flaws and messy plotlines, the charm of Descendants Of The Sun still endures today.