One Dollar Lawyer (2022) A Review

One thing’s for certain. I don’t think I would have watched this if it hadn’t been for Namgoong Min and I don’t think I would have stuck it out to the end if it weren’t for him as well. It’s not complete waste but for many reasons it never reaches its potential. Nor does it transcend its comic booky roots. When the show is good it’s fun. Even somewhat poignant. At various points in the narrative when the show transitions from arc to arc, there’s far more filler than I am personally comfortable with. I can only conclude that this project was a Namgoong Min vehicle that showcases his versatility as an actor at home with both comedy and melodrama. Regardless of how the script goes, the man always puts his best foot forward and does his magic. I say this as someone who has watched the last 7 of his dramas. (As well as an earlier one called The Girl Who Sees Smells.) The relative success of the One Dollar Lawyer largely relies on the lead actor’s ability to pull off a variety of idiosyncratic or slapstick moments and Namgoong Min does his best to acquit himself in every instance.

Despite the title and the marketing campaign around this, the drama is undoubtedly a superhero origins story with detective elements. There’s very little of the legal side of things in this despite the dominant role that lawyers and prosecutors play here. The show highlights a variety of crimes but the show’s main character spends very little time in the courtroom even he sees himself as a advocate for the voiceless. In fact Cheon Ji-hun has all the hallmarks of a superhero in the tradition of Batman and Spiderman. Indeed he is a composite of various ones that we’ve seen in the last two decades. Even the Big Bad in this instance, feels like a localized cartoon version of the Joker and the Green Goblin. Ji-hun’s above-average intelligence, perseverance and fearlessness (his superpowers) is generally what saves the day. When he leaves behind his job as prosecutor because of the death of a loved one, he immediately puts on a pair of sunglasses as if to indicate that he’s taken on the mantle left to him by said loved one. It then follows that his hairstyle, fashion sense and manner become more flamboyant as he dons the One Dollar Lawyer persona. They are his cape and cowl as it were. It’s a significant psychological moment for Ji-hun when (like Bats) the new persona becomes a mask that conceals the seething rage, inconsolable grief and the desire for revenge. But more like Spiderman, the devil-may-care personality allows him to be more ostentatious, talkative and witty. He is a man with a wound in search of a balm. There is temporary relief to be found in helping people who can’t afford to fork up for a half decent lawyer but the festering wound runs deep. In the long run the sort of clientele that he attracts as the One Dollar Lawyer serves as a reminder to him that the world doesn’t have to be that relentless battleground where the powerful run roughshod over the weak.

Much of this show is about Cheon Ji-hun’s quest to find closure and healing from the tragedies that have afflicted him in recent years. Once he gets his resolution from personally apprehending the Big Bad, this forever cements his identity as the One Dollar Lawyer. It defines him as much as he defines it. He builds the character from an empty slate and the character becomes a skin to inhabit when he transforms into the man of the people — helping those who are backed into a corner and do his eleventh hour save. It is a journey he begins because it helps him connect with his beloved Ju-yeon and her ideals. Later it becomes his own mission and ultimately a life changing decision.

His closest associates are Sa Mu-jang (the office manager) and Baek Ma-ri (probationary lawyer) who seem like an unlikely addition to the show’s primary trio. As is customary with these sorts of set-ups, Ma-ri and Ji-hun don’t get along at first because they come from different places with different life experiences. Initially it seems that the study of the law is the only thing they have in common. The practice of it, however, becomes another matter entirely. It seems to me too that the show wants to have a bet each way or leave room for a second series with regards to Ma-ri’s dynamic with Ji-hun. There’s no overt/resolved romance between them but the show teases out the idea all throughout that there could be “more” once Ji-hun moves on (or if he ever does) from his past. I’m of the view that theirs is a teacher-apprentice relationship and it’s really for the best. Clearly that’s how Ji-hun sees her. Also Ma-ri’s role in this seems to be a thankless one of following Ji-hun around, acting as a sounding board, plying him with questions and letting him show off with impunity.

Even though I enjoy much of the humour in this, the show seems to be at its best when it takes on a more serious tone. On hindsight much of the humour seems unnecessary or misplaced. There are these deliberate inserts of levity that feel random and disconnected with the larger story. Often this applies to moments where the main characters sit around and shoot the breeze. Sure, there are slow days when the trio have to wait for clients to show up so that the show can go on the road but yeah, it feels odd to have bits of random dialogue thrown in just for comedic effect. What this says to me in effect is that the world building is not as confident as it should be.

The series hits its peak at around Episode 8 and while I wouldn’t say that it goes downhill after that, it doesn’t have the same zing. It also doesn’t help that Episode 11 feels like a prolonged exercise in time wasting until the not-too-bad finale — when Ji-hun is done with his sabbatical and decides it’s time to go after the true villain of the piece.

It’s not a great show by any metric but not a terrible one either. For some it will be a hard slog in parts and some perhaps like me some will persevere to the end for the love of Namgoong Min.