Little Women (2022) First Impressions

Episodes 1 and 2

This post contains minor spoilers pertaining to Episodes 1 and 2.

“Once upon a time, there were three loving sisters who didn’t have much but they had each other.” The temptation to begin this review with a line like this comes from the fact that there are echoes of Hans Christian Andersen in the way the show unfolds in these first two episodes. The show obviously locates itself within that tradition of fairytale storytelling in the way that it sets up the show’s protagonists and the moral predicaments they find themselves in which result from the normalization of conspicuous consumption and the materialist ethic that governs it.

A shy lonely bookkeeper (Kim Go-eun) who is designated an outcast at work, lives a hand to mouth existence with her two younger sisters — one a television journalist (Nam Ji-hyun) and the other an art student (Park Ji-hoo) — and their mother in a shabby rooftop apartment. One day Mother Dearest takes off with the envelope of spare cash that the girls carelessly leave lying around. What’s her excuse? Well, she’s had enough and now wants to “live for herself”. This was designated birthday money originally intended for the family artist, In-hye, who was supposed to go on a school excursion to Europe but she refused to take the hard earned cash knowing the sacrifices that had to be made for it. While it all begins like your garden variety K drama hard luck story, it quickly turns into a thriller/whodunnit that may involve a highly patient serial killer with a penchant for a particular kind of blue orchid.

Orchids are certainly a key part of the landscape. It was also the great passion of Oh In-joo’s former colleague Jin Hwa-young who has become the central figure of an elaborate embezzlement scheme but hasn’t lived to tell the tale. Instead it is left to In-joo and a company colleague Choi Do Il (Wi Ha-joon) to retrace the dead woman’s footsteps to seek find out where she’s stashed that sort of money. Did Jin Hwa-young kill herself out of guilt or was she offed unceremoniously because she knew too much? That’s the 70 billion won question.

Meanwhile Oh In-kyung (Nam Ji-hyun), the journalist, is looking into Park Jae-sung (Uhm Ki-joon) a charismatic philanthropist lawyer who might have his sights set on the mayoral seat of Seoul. In-kyung, we’re told, has a knack for reading people and judging from his behaviour on telly she thinks he’s fishy and firmly believes there’s dirt to dig up. Unlike her sisters she grew up with their wealthy great aunt and learned to trade stocks under her tutelage. In-kyung, however, is a tenacious crusader at heart. Wealth creation doesn’t interest her all that much. Her Achilles’ heel however is her camera nerves, and she takes to imbibing alcohol to soothe them.

The first half of the first episode looked like it could come from any K drama with all the usual ingredients in a family drama that’s focused on discrepancies of wealth and status in that society. The various forms of snobbery which includes obnoxious office segregation, personal gossip and conspicuous consumption are all on display with no mistake as to what the show’s agenda is. Seasoned viewers will find all this rather familiar. However as soon as the show launches into corporate crime and murder, it takes on a somewhat more intriguing flavour. The familiar soon becomes the staging point for the malevolent which is never far away. The primary characters purportedly are based on Louisa May Alcott’s March sisters minus one but that’s like saying that Extraordinary Attorney Woo is similar to The Good Doctor because they feature autistic leads. If you squint hard enough you can almost see Nam Ji-hyun’s In-kyung as Jo and Kang Hoon’s Ha Jong-ho as Laurie. If that’s the case, for goodness sake, let Jo and Laurie end up together for once. I give myself some reason to hope in that regard because in a K drama the likelihood of childhood sweethearts ending up together is much higher.

Despite initial appearances the two older sisters seem to be positioned here as the drama’s primary sleuths who are examining the show’s biggest mysteries. In-joo because of her association and friendship with Jin Hwa-young dons the role of forensic accountant here but what she uncovers is far more than egregious white collar crime. In-joo also turns out to be a lot smarter than she seemed at the start but the late Ms Jin was a good teacher from what little is gleaned from flashbacks. Though suspended, In-kyung’s tenacious probe into the death of a banker tragically leads to another death. Evidently there are sinister forces who will stop at nothing to remain hidden and the body pile up is on. At the end of the two episodes it is clear that the two sisters are on the same trail coming from different starting points. Not unlike an old-fashioned Hardy Boys mystery.

To create an atmosphere of suspense, the use of unreliable perspectives generates a deliberate feeling of distrust and confusion. How much do people really know? How much of it is purely speculative brought on by personal bias? What do they know but aren’t saying? Equally mysterious is the amicable Choi Do Il who is working hand in hand with In-joo. Who is he really? No one really expects us to believe that he’s just some corporate stooge trying to get his hands on the illegal slush fund surely? The way his mind works and how he talks screams “investigator” to me. More importantly I would like to think that he’s being set up to romance In-joo so he can’t be the scumbag that he’s trying to convince her that he is. The fact that he talks in riddles around her regarding his motivations — his saying one thing that could be interpreted a number of ways — might be a clue to his actual identity. For a simple minded young woman for whom things are black and white, he could be playing word games with her and she’d be none the wiser.

The youngest In-hye is a talented scholarship student at an exclusive art school where she’s mixing with the some of the wealthiest including Won Sang-a (Park Jae-sungs wife) and her daughter Park Hyo-rin. She’s been commissioned to paint a portrait of Hyo-rin and gladly obliges because the latter has an expensive Roman nose. In-hye undoubtedly feels her place among the rich and finds home with her sisters who try too hard to make up for the lack caused by irresponsible parents, a stifling environment. What she may or may not know is that her artwork becomes a winning entry for Park Hyo-rin in a competition that is designated a “self-portrait”.

There’s a strong refrain that establishes itself quickly in the narrative: Life is unfair because fortune favours the fabulously wealthy who are well resourced to get whatever their hearts desire. Money can buy just about everything within the scope of imagination. Maybe even happiness. Of course how the rich get rich is another can of worms that’s given immediate attention to counterbalance a particular set of perspectives regarding wealth that the characters adhere to. On the negative side what wealth allows is for those who possess it in great quantities to game the system with impunity and no regard for rule of law. It then begs the question — Is that the kind of degenerative moral landscape we want for those who come after us?

It is suggestive that the real driving force behind wealth aspiration is the doctrine of consumerism. The whole emphasis on luxury goods as street credentials for participation in society is a pernicious animating principle which infects the have-nots as much as the haves. It’s also used by those with more sinister intentions as a weapon of control over those who haven’t got everything. Ownership of USD $3000 pair of shoes or a USD $10 0000 handbag means on some level membership into a very select club or that somehow one has “arrived” or “achieved” in a race designed by people who don’t have anyone’s interest at heart except their own. It’s about defining status and what that looks like in society. It is a lie that sees human beings purely as economic agents that creates more unnecessary unhappiness, rather than living in contentment with what makes life worth living. Poverty is redefined as not having what the rich have rather than not making ends meet. The more one buys into this doctrine that consumptive wealth can determine your identity and flourishing, the more it gains mastery over you. It fosters envy and the end result is slavery to a system. The result inevitably leads to theft of some kind.

The reference to red shoes in these early episodes certainly evokes Andersen’s famous invective against greed and materialism (a common theme of his works) all those years ago. When Jin Hwa-yong died, she was wearing a pair of sleek red stilettos. Her predecessor also died with a pair on her. In-joo receives a mysterious pair of red shoes delivered to her door step. It signals danger and there’s little doubt that it serves as a harbinger of doom.

It’s clear that the show is brimming with potential with all kinds of flawed characters who find themselves on a moral spectrum which correlates with their attitudes towards wealth or a lack of it. Clearly the 12 episode format works in the drama’s favour as there’s almost no dilly dallying around with the introduction of the show’s primary plot and how the main character dynamics look to play out. At this point it seems to be a high quality production and feels even at this point to be built on a tight, confident script.