KBS, 2020, 16 episodes
Genres: medical drama
Written by Lee Hyang-hee (이향희)
Directed by Yoo Hyeon-gi (유현기)
More information: Wikipedia / HanCinema
Soul Mechanic:
Healing the Mind in the Shadow of Stigma
If I were to assign a "like index" to my reviews, Soul Mechanic (Lélekjavító) would be the series to earn the maximum score based on its undertaking, rather than necessarily its performance. Yet, it is a unique creation that, despite dealing with grave issues, remains very easy to watch. It is a moving and beautiful story, filled with important information and thoughts to ponder.
- Perhaps the most important series I have seen.
- An extremely clever social public service announcement disguised as a drama.
- It denies nothing, yet it doesn’t paint a complete picture.
- While it doesn't lie about anything, it still lulls us into a rather false idyll.
I am certain that to understand this drama, it is particularly important now to recall a few facts, most of which are generally known. Everyone knows that in the 2017 OECD rankings, South Korea stood in first place regarding the rate of suicides and those receiving hospital treatment for mental illnesses. Although a state-funded institutional system exists for the care of mental health patients, the system itself struggles with numerous internal problems. On one hand, only 3% of total healthcare funding is allocated to this purpose, which mostly goes toward inpatient care, while the majority of patients receive outpatient services. Despite the fact that there is no shortage of highly trained professionals and medications, the number of people utilizing these services remains low.
The reason for this is stigmatization—the social branding of patients, which is one of the most bigoted legacies of Confucianism. Those suffering from mental illness are seen as proving weak; they fail in terms of self-discipline and their own will, and thus, as individuals, they represent a stain on the judgment of their entire family. Preserving the "face" of the family is a paramount consideration, which explains why only about 7% of those in need turn to the care system for help. Even they try to keep this a secret, doing everything possible to ensure no trace remains in health insurance records. There are several other discouraging factors as well, such as the state of patient rights or discrimination in the workplace, which are similarly settled by law, but their implementation leaves much to be desired.
Perhaps this is enough to support why the theme of this drama is so vital. There is no question that the creators of the series approached the task with responsibility, and they aimed to deploy "big guns" in terms of the cast as well. Primarily Shin Ha-kyun and Jung So-min, who guarantee audience attention. Both are magnificent, individually handling their characters' emotional nuances with brilliance—even with humor, which in Shin Hakyun’s case has a truly unique flavor—and the chemistry between them is very strong.
We see a hospital drama set in a clinic dealing with mental health patients. Among the members of the dedicated medical team, we meet Doctor Lee Shijoon, who is not afraid to employ innovative perspectives and put them into practice for the sake of his patients, even if he must go against hospital regulations. Thus, he is the "soul" of the healing work, but the hospital is facing expansion, which brings internal power struggles.
The main thread of the story unfolds between Doctor Lee and a musical actress who comes into his sphere of vision. Here, melodramatic elements already come into play, as both struggle with the burdens of their pasts. Doctor Lee must simultaneously face his father-complex—made more difficult by the worsening dementia of his former master-surgeon father—and his guilt over the loss of his first patient, a woman suffering from Borderline Personality Disorder. This condition rhymes with the later diagnosis of Han Woo-joo, who initially draws attention only with her outbursts of rage. The drama primarily uses the cliché of two wounded personalities healing each other for them, yet through this, it attempts to draw a fairly accurate picture of the various phases of the girl’s illness. After a few twists, we find them in a doctor-patient relationship, where feelings slowly awaken for one another. This is certainly one of the most vulnerable points of the story's credibility, as professionally, it is likely not permissible for a doctor to treat someone with whom he is in a romantic relationship. Although the story questions this, it remains permissive of the situation.
The micro-stories of individual episodes are integrated into the unfolding of their relationship, presenting the diversity of mental illnesses like a tableau. In these stories, the protagonists are of various ages and professions. To highlight just a few: we see a student who turns to drugs due to exam pressure; an ingenious alcoholic who requires constant vigilance; and those from particularly high-risk professions (firefighters, subway drivers). Nor is healthcare left out, through the presentation of the troubles of hospital nurses—and even a minister appears. It is truly exciting how the background of the onset of illnesses emerges, along with the therapies that can lead to recovery. Family dysfunctions, domestic violence, grief work—these are all put on the table. We see the terror in which these people live, and we also see the efforts the healers make. We even get a comprehensive picture of the most varied therapies. It can be clearly felt that every such small story in the drama is actually an exclamation point for many viewers, who may recognize themselves or their problems, and through the series, receive guidance, encouragement, and help regarding where and how to start on the road leading toward a solution.
Where, then, does the drama paint a false picture? Perhaps in the fact that it creates illusions to achieve its goal. Although two cases illustrate that mental illnesses do take victims, the therapies work smoothly, bringing recovery in every instance. To mention a few examples of the false elements: the more advanced Doctor Lee's father's dementia becomes, the more clear and insightful messages he sends to his son, redrawing their relationship. The doctor's forgiveness is more understandable, but—good heavens!—they even managed to squeeze a ferris wheel/carousel scene into this situation (which personally gives me the creeps). What a cloudless letter of connection the mother leaves behind for her daughter, with whom even the foster mother—whose judgment is questionable at best—reaches a tear-jerking understanding. The fellow who could be called a public danger due to his delusions indeed becomes a proud guardian of order, smoothly, without trouble, and accepted by everyone. The aggressive alcoholic woman eventually sings enthusiastically in the choir. And the minister—what a decent man, how much he takes the workers' troubles to heart! Even the vile little social-climbing piece of filth, the hospital’s vice director, is embraced by everyone during the closing drinks. The good ones all reach their goals, the less good ones improve, and everyone finds peace.
However, I feel the greatest "stretch" is in the presentation of the lead girl's healing process. Particularly at the beginning of the story, they still try to convey the unstable, ever-changing, extreme faces of Borderline Personality Disorder. Jung So-min does everything to make these believable. Her charming personality fits the states of hyper-cheerful joy very well, and her wavering, inner uncertainties are also authentic. It is even appropriate that she embarks on the road to recovery when she accepts her own illness and undertakes to fight against it. However, from this point on, the real phases of the fluctuation characteristic of the personality disorder are omitted—those hells that both the person involved and those living in their environment go through, especially since not all of them are psychiatrists. Here, it is as if we are only stepping forward on the peaks, making the healing process seem linear—an almost self-operating, unbroken process. And that is anything but characteristic of BPD.
Still, I can look upon these perhaps intentionally undertaken distortions with forgiveness. Much more important is the fact that this drama was born, and it gives hope for the changes that will follow in its wake. Time will eventually bring the possibility for deeper portrayals. Since it is currently 2021, Navillera is already here.
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