The Worst of Evil (2023): Episodes 8-9

"No. It's Not a Romance"

I’d be the first person to admit that there’s nothing groundbreaking about The Worst of Evil in terms of its goals and setting. So it is with some degree of amusement that I interact with the online commentary regarding this show. There are those who like me are fans of the crime/thriller/noir genre and are staunchly defending the show from the other perspective that are viewing what is essentially a very standard undercover police story through the lenses of classic romance tropes. Believe it or not I can fully understand why Jung Gi-cheul is so beloved by a segment of fandom. It’s the Wi Ha-joon effect. The man oozes charm and he smoulders just by being alive. It’s not that hard to see why people are rooting for Gi-cheul and Eui-jeong to be an item.

In another universe perhaps. A universe where Gi-cheul is not a major gangland player. Where he’s still a humble DJ not entrenched in the drug trade. Or one where Eui-jeong is not a cop. And one where Park Jun-mo doesn’t exist. The Worst of Evil is not that story. It’s definitely not that kind of story.

No matter how much I adore Wi Ha-joon I cannot root for Gi-cheul to get the girl. Not only is she inconveniently married to someone else but their relationship whatever he thinks it is, is fundamentally based on deception. An arguably necessary deception for the purposes of a greater good. I say arguably only because there was really no need for Eui-jeong to insinuate herself into the investigation. But once she found out about that dangerous thing her husband was doing and how badly equipped the police (an organization that they both work for) was to protect him, there would be no stopping her.

A real romance can only blossom when both parties are genuinely working towards the same goal of trying to build “paradise on earth” together. This is obviously not the case here. On the contrary. In Eui-jeong’s mind, Jung Gi-cheul is an existential threat to her happily-ever-after. By way of his trajectory he can never be her happily-ever-after. She can justify her deception because she is in effect preserving her marriage and is sacrificing herself to protect the man she married despite his background. This is why she can lie so well in front of Jung Gi-cheul. Because she remembers another man — a colleague — who once awkwardly asked her out. Someone whom she married despite objections from her family. His background as the son of an addict notwithstanding. When she tells Gi-cheul she believes in him and accepts him the way he is, she’s not talking to him but to the husband whose life depends on her putting on a good show. She’s well-placed to do this… it’s not luck… because Gi-cheul desperately wants to believe her. Against all common sense and advice from the people around him, Gi-cheul needs her reassurance because 1) he needs to know that he’s not a lost cause; that even a man like him can dig himself out of the pit that he’s jumped into. 2) that he made the best choices that he could up to this point and 3) that even a sinner like himself can be loved unconditionally by a woman. He was raised religious. He surrounds himself with crosses. He can’t in good conscience attend church while engaging in illicit activities but I suspect he’s pursuing his redemption anyway he can.

Indeed Episode 8 is a fascinating montage of ironies. The juxtaposition of couple scenes accompanied by flashbacks is to remind us that despite appearances, the real couple are forced to adapt according to their respective roles in unpredictable fashion. All that lying is certainly working in their favour but there are clearly unintentional results. The honey trap is working rather well and exacting a mental toll on the married couple who took their vows seriously. Everyone thinks that Jun-mo’s particularly attached to Gi-cheul putting his life on the line repeatedly for the latter when he’s really trying to protect Eui-jeong and expedite matters to end things. What’s particularly ironic is Gi-cheul becoming more motivated to succeed now that he believes he’s got Eui-jeong on side claiming to be barracking for him. As if Jun-mo hasn’t got enough to worry about, he finds out through the Chinese representative Lee Hae-ryeon that Gangnam Union is about to be attacked by their most powerful rivals. What follows is a bloodbath. Jun-mo who is dressed in beige ends up soaked in blood in that skirmish. To protect his wife who is now officially “dating” Gi-cheul, he lets loose and crosses a line. Gangnam Union prevails and Gi-cheul takes Jun-mo home for food and sleep. He’s more than a subordinate now. He’s a confidant.

Of course Gi-cheul is suspicious of Eui-jeong at first. Odd things have been happening since she as well as Seung-ho aka Jun-mo came onto the scene. Too many coincidences makes even a besotted man think twice. Then to deflect suspicion she starts talking about good o’l destiny (nice use of a K drama trope there dear) and the fact that she should have been by his side after his father’s death. This is an important speech she makes to placate him and she knows the right buttons to push to get the right response. She promises to help and he wonders why. To us it sounds like a speech she’s made before. To someone else. When she’s talking to him, she’s referring to someone else. That’s why is works. But poor Gi-cheul, he is not the male lead in her story but an antagonist. A hurdle to be overcome and taken down.

Yes, it is poor Gi-cheul because his feelings for her is sincere. People who do terrible things can have people they care about deeply. His mother, his sister and Eui-jeong. Even his mates from high school. When he said that for her sake he wants to be a better man — that broke my heart for the first time. It might have been easier for me to hate him if he were a cookie cutter, moustache twirling villain.

This moment of course is pivotal because it confirms what this story has always been about — two men who took different turns in their lives and the results speak for themselves. If only Gi-cheul had someone like Eui-jeong early on to steer him in a different direction. If only someone at their church had come alongside that family in their time of need. If only. If only.

In the middle of this web of deceit and double-crossing, there is a conversation to be had about the moral complexities of espionage. In times of conflict/war it is accepted practice although consequences are usually dire if the operative gets caught. On-the-spot execution being perhaps the least painful outcome. Still to gain the trust of others in order to use it against them does have a psychological cost of its own. For the first time in this show I questioned the wisdom of Eui-jeong’s inclusion in this operation. It’s a double-edged sword and somehow it will never sit easy with me. Certainly she didn’t need to. In fact her presence puts Jun-mo on edge as not only does he have to prevent his cover from being blown but he feels obligated to protect her at every turn. Still from the writer’s point of view it undoubtedly adds another layer of unpredictability and has us all on the edge of our seats.

The other aspect to this story is the role of the law enforcement agencies. Because this is a K drama, the unreliability of the police and the prosecutorial office always comes up. There’s corruption among the rank and file. There’s the illegal use of police authority in how evidence is acquired. Then there’s the brass playing politics or worst still taking kickbacks from Big Business. All of this certainly provides strong justification for undercover operations. A low trust environment often sees individuals resort to trickery and sleight of hand to get results. Public investigations are bound to get shut down by the higher ups who may or may not have their fingers in a whole assortment of unsavoury pies.