Call It Love: Revenge, Desire, and Loss – The Impact of Family Cataclysms on the Lives of Descendants

사랑이라 말해요
Disney Plus, 2023, 16 episodes
Genres: drama, melodrama, revenge, romance, family, office
Directed by Kim Ji-yeon 김지연, Lee Gwang-yeong 이광영
Written by Kim Ga-eun 김가은

You can find the original article in Hungarian here →

Call It Love is a drama of silence. The silence of solitude. The silence of defense. If we were to total the screen time of the two protagonists and examine the ratio of speech to silence in their interactions, I am certain that the time spent in stillness would be the longer share. Impatient viewers might find the series slow or even dull for this reason, but the attentive ones will witness a profound psychological deep-drilling.

(Author’s screenshot from Call It Love.)

The first and, so far, only filmed story by writer Kim Ga-eun focuses on the inner worlds of the two leads and their transformations, even while placing their observation within a crowded, bustling environment. The genres, too, exist in an unusual blend. Among romantic Korean series, we more frequently encounter sweeping melodramas seasoned with realistic dramatic elements; however, here the situation is reversed: the main plot is a plausible, meticulously crafted psychological drama, colored by elements from the melodrama's toolkit. The relationship between the protagonists is driven by the motive of revenge, and their story is embedded in the exploration of both their family dynamics—thus, we are also viewing a family drama. If that weren't enough, we also experience the struggles of a business facing hardships. Because the series focuses on unfolding a classic drama for the vast majority of its run, it manages to keep our interest high—though it wanes slightly in the final episodes, in direct proportion to the melodrama's tropes and moods gaining more ground.

One of the directing duo is Kim Ji-yeon, whose magnificent subsequent drama, The Haunted Palace, I have just recently seen; the other is Lee Gwang-yeong, who already has nine directorial works behind him, including The Secret Life of My Secretary, which is also linked to Call It Love by its male lead. Both are seasoned directors, a fact felt throughout the series: the visual compositions can tell stories of loneliness in a thousand ways, and the watchful gaze of the cameras never misses a single telling look or movement in the acting.

(Author’s screenshot from Call It Love.)

This must be highlighted because, despite all the writer-director value invested, the drama remains an exceptional playground for the two actors playing the leads. Looking back at the drama as a whole, we find few scenes where the two protagonists are shown in situations of great emotional volatility. Sim Woo-joo (Lee Sung-kyung) is the more impulsive character, but her initial boisterousness quickly shifts into a stifled yet manic rage, lending a hurtful, abrasive edge to her few words. As the story progresses, her awakening inner uncertainty makes her increasingly silent.

(Author’s screenshot from Call It Love.)

(Author’s screenshot from Call It Love.)

(Author’s screenshot from Call It Love.)

(Author’s screenshot from Call It Love.)

Han Dong-jin (Kim Young-kwang), on the other hand, is the embodiment of unapproachability; the walls he has built around himself are impenetrable. Woo-joo is a recalcitrant rebel who tolerates no boundaries; it is worth noting that she bears not the slightest resemblance to heroines meticulously shaped to visual perfection (costume, makeup). Her face is natural, and her style of dress throughout mostly resembles that of a teenage boy. She is a strong, battle-hardened individual who carries the burden of caring for her family—forced by circumstance, yet taken on voluntarily. Dong-jin, however, is the definition of punctiliousness, rule-following, and compliance—not in an annoyingly pedantic sense, but as an inner necessity, a point of alignment for his personality, a sustaining force. They are fire and water, natural enemies in themselves, yet here the intent of revenge also drives them against each other. Or rather, it would drive them, because Dong-jin provides incomprehensible answers to the pointed, though unspoken, questions Woo-joo hurls at him.

(Author’s screenshot from Call It Love.)

Kim Young-kwang delivers an absolutely staggering performance in the role of Dong-jin. This man is gentle and withdrawn, offering little reaction to the hurtful influences hitting him other than understanding and acceptance. His posture is stooped, his gait measured, as if he is always defending against something. His voice is flat, and he speaks almost exclusively in single words or simple sentences. In a way reminiscent of almost autistic symptoms, he is unable or unwilling to express his own feelings—only from his gaze, which is always vividly expressive, do we know this is not the case, for it betrays everything he cannot speak of. The character does not lack inner strength; his situational awareness and judgment are perfect, and in his own way, he takes up the gauntlet against indignities. He is simply infinitely lonely, and the roots of his defensive strategies are the consequences of traumas suffered repeatedly throughout his life.

(Author’s screenshot from Call It Love.)

In this respect, Woo-joo is no different: she is also a deeply damaged personality, she has simply chosen a different path for herself. The story draws these two people together; at first, they tentatively test one another, but the process of mutual discovery eventually leads them both to dislodge each other from their established bases of self-defense. However, this leads them into risky territory, as the link between them—known only to Woo-joo for a long time—casts a dark shadow over their burgeoning feelings. As viewers, we are aware of the danger, and our concern for them, especially for the unsuspecting Dong-jin, borders on the tension of a thriller.

(Author’s screenshot from Call It Love.)

While we observe their relationship, their interconnected family histories unfold. We are introduced to two types of mother figures. One of them, Ma Hee-ja (Nam Gi-ae), is entirely unfit for the role; she is, in fact, a female predator, interested only in securing her own well-being through her chosen male victims. She even sets her sights on married men, and the victim of this is the other mother, Kim Hyeon-joo (Kim Hee-jung), who is left alone with her children. She falls ill from the weight of what has happened to her, and for a long time, she too is unable to fulfill her role for her children. While Dong-jin is left entirely to his own devices, Woo-joo must take on the burden of caring for her siblings.

(Author’s screenshot from Call It Love.)

(Author’s screenshot from Call It Love.)

The drama is also the story of her two siblings and their mutual friend. Through occasional psychologizing, the story can be interpreted as an exploration of the traumas family strife inflicts on defenseless children, who carry these effects with them for a lifetime. Woo-joo’s excessive sense of responsibility and her thirst for revenge are consequences of this. Her sister, Sim Hye-song (Kim Ye-won), seeks escape in poorly chosen relationships, and her psychosomatic symptoms also stem from the problems of growing up without parents. Interestingly, her story is almost a "drama within a drama" that could stand on its own. The younger brother, Sim Ji-goo (Jang Sung-bum), suffers more from the warped, overprotective, and suffocating love of his sisters, which hinders his path to self-actualization. The family friend, Yoon Joon (Sung Joon), is a wonderful character who constantly plays a balancing role in the siblings' conflicts while his feelings vacillate between the two girls. The drama even finds space to give Yoon Joon his own family background, providing us with an alarming family model from which one can only flee—as he does—leading him to the conclusion that it is best to live his life without starting a family of his own. Alongside the protagonists' relationship, the constantly shifting dynamics of this quartet provide one source of the story’s momentum.

(Author’s screenshot from Call It Love.)

(Author’s screenshot from Call It Love.)

Another source is Dong-jin’s company, whose situation is unstable due to a fierce adversary, Sin Seong-man (Shin Mun-sung), whose goal is to bring down the business. Woo-joo’s appearance at the firm affects the collective, while this environment provides her with constant feedback for understanding Dong-jin’s personality. Tied to this is an important figure, Co-director Choi Seon-woo (Jun Suk-ho), who is not only Dong-jin’s sole understanding and protective friend but perhaps the most vibrant character in the drama. He is loud, funny, and seemingly indolent, yet he is always there at the right moment when needed, serving as a bridge to characters with whom Dong-jin must smooth over existing conflicts. One such person is Dong-jin’s former love. The character of Kang Min-yeong (Ahn Hee-yeon) is very cleverly written, continuously deepening what initially appears to be a one-dimensional portrayal. The corporate network features a rich array of figures, each carrying personality traits—and with them, moral lessons—linked to the world of work (relations with competitors, corporate betrayal, or steadfastness).

A relatively distinct figure in the story is Yoon Dae-hong (Choi Jung-woo), who, despite having no biological connection to fatherhood, serves as a paternal sanctuary for Dong-jin. The use of camping as a symbolic motif to express Dong-jin’s state of mind is very beautiful; it is worth noting the sequence where the camera pans over the camping gear, now merely decorative objects placed on a shelf. In many dramas, we see human alliances and voluntary roles emerging as substitutes for biological family ties; we see something similar in the figure of Yoon.

(Author’s screenshot from Call It Love.)

Returning to the mother figures: in both cases, it is clear that the children cannot escape their "inheritance"—Dong-jin from the burden of the sins committed by his mother, and Woo-joo from the source of the troubles that destroyed her mother’s life. Within all of this lies the question of how far children are responsible for their parents' lives. We have seen dramas answer this question in various, often extreme ways, bringing tragedy to the children or arming them with the courage to settle accounts with their parental legacy. Here, following a few melodramatic turns and entrusting reconciliation to time, we reach a resolution in which the maternal heart plays no small part. It is that maternal instinct that recognizes the good even in the enemy's child and, softening, embraces the outcast.

A further virtue of Call It Love is that, although many tears are shed, it resists all melodramatic stylistic elements. It is free from grandiosity and sentimentality, maintaining the true-to-life reality of the characters and situations throughout. This is also true of its music, which is beautiful and emotive but not in the least bit maudlin. Finally, it must be mentioned that Jang Sung-bum has an angelic voice.

Disclaimer: All images used in this article from Call It Love are owned by Disney Plus and are used here under Fair Use for the purpose of criticism and scholarly review.


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This article was originally written in Hungarian for Ricemegatron Expert Film Blog and subsequently translated into English for Ricemegatron Expert: Korean Screen Insights. The English version was created with the assistance of Gemini AI, focusing on preserving the original tone, structure, and critical style of the author.