Tomorrow Is Another Friday, Another Episode, Another Shot Of Pure Ecstasy. I Have Withdrawal Symptoms

what really strikes me about each of those scenes where pat is comforting pran is how pran responds to them. whenever pran gets upset over smth pat can't fix, pat makes himself vulnerable, offers him some cringey goofiness in hopes to cheer him up and each time pran's made sure to answer him, to show him his gratitude, to tell him it works.

bc it's so easy to just push someone away when ur hurt, to brood within ur own angry shell, esp for someone like pran who's always dealt with his emotions on his own. and he knows pat would understand if he did that, if he needed space pat would move away eventually, stop and leave him alone. but pran doesn't want that, he doesn't want pat to leave, he needs him there. he'd probably prefer silent company in some of these moments, but he knows pat's different, that pat needs loud affirmations and louder actions, that pat's doing this bc he loves him and pran might prefer quiet but he prefers pat more, so he returns the gesture, be it wiping his face or doing some mortifying dance. when he can't do that, when his hurt has worn him out too much, he still makes sure to smile for pat, to express his gratitude.

in reciprocating his gestures, pran is making sure none of his efforts go down the drain, he's making sure pat sees how it lightens the weight on his heart, he's telling pat he's grateful he goes to such lengths only to make him smile, he's grateful to have him here with him. he's encouraging pat's behavior by showing him how much he values pat's presence, how much all of pat's small efforts mean to him.

what really hits me thou - is that this started after the bet, before they'd fully opened up to each other, but once pran knows pat wants him, that pat likes him and is a reality he can have. before when he overheard what pat's dad said, when he was upset about the bus stop, when they'd kissed and he was devastated - pat chased relentlessly after him all these times, but pran adamantly pushed him away. it's how he's used to dealing w emotions - alone, in the confines of his own torn mind. it's how he thinks things will be better, if he tackles them on his own.

even then, pran had paid attention to how far pat was willing to go to ease his burden, to make him happy. in ep2 he even told pat that he enjoyed it, having pat indebted to him, implied he found solace in pat's guilt. but back then was when he thought he'd never have pat, or later that he could not. back then was when everything pat did confused him, tore him apart further till he didn't know what was upsetting him anymore - the initial trigger, or pat's misleading behavior.

now pran knows. it still surprises him - the extent to which pat's willing to go to make things right for him (re: offering to say he was dumped to fix things w their faculties). but now it doesn't devastate him anymore, does not break him to wonder whether it was just a friendly gesture or more, does not scare him w the idea of nursing a shattered heart later. now he feels everything pat intends for him to - mollified, warm, safe. so now pran too puts in effort to show him he knows why pat's doing this, that it makes him happy, that pat's efforts do and have always paid off.

this is how they've become each other's safe space, by plucking the courage to expose their soft underbellies to the other, and having that effort returned, rewarded and treasured.

WISH YOU THE MOVIE | NOW STREAMING ON NETFLIX AND VIKI

can we talk about the casual intimacy of this episode? we don’t need to see kisses or bed scenes to know that sarawat and tine are two people who love and care deeply for each other. the cuddles, the grins, the excitement about moving in together, figuring out each other quirks and learning how to live with each other, opening cans of soda for each other, learning each other’s favourite dishes and ladling them out on the other’s plate, the quick cheek kisses, brushing their teeth together, sleeping in the same bed, the blushes, the fact that sarawat never pressures tine to tell his brother even when type prompts him to tell the truth multiple times… 

it shows, without doubt, that sarawat and tine are two people in their first serious relationship. that they enjoy each other’s company, that they want it to work and so they make it work. the domesticity of this episode illustrates their relationship perfectly. two toothbrushes in a cup by the sink. their posters all over the walls. the bracelets. one bed. a life shared.

honestly, hats off to bright and win and the production team for portraying sarawat and tine as two real people who love each other dearly, for keeping their private moments private, and for showing them as two very different people who want to make their relationship work. this episode showcased how real the both of them are, and it was absolutely heartwarming to see.

i’m sorry but with pat and pran constantly going “we need to talk” in eps as early as 1 and 2 when they were supposed to be “rivals” should’ve told me that they were gonna have the healthiest fucking relationship out there when they started dating

" I want to say thank you. " (Ears turn red)

- Shinwoo

honestly speaking bad buddy is like....a slap to even western queer representation. im not even kidding. as someone from a queerphobic country, who got introduced to their first queer character at 14 through nico di angelo, who had to deal with queer identity being used for queerbait through stories like sherlock, who knew of the dumpster fire of queerbait that was supernatural, who rarely ever saw sapphic rep, who found shadowhunters and malec but the awkwardness in all those initial seasons (i wont talk about the books cause...yeah)

bad buddy is like a cure to all of that. this asian show did what western shows are so cowardly to do, unless they want to make it a pat on their back or showcase themself as revolutionary. no, bad buddy gave us a queer romance, told us love is genuinely blind to gender, told hs that sometimes girls do only like girls and nothing will change that, told us that queer people aren't a one in a thousand occurance. queer people exist everywhere, we just don't have the same stages and same spotlights to live out our love like non-queer people.

and bad buddy is what we'd get if we did. the family fued would've been a credible issue even if it was a girl and a guy. and thats why bad buddy feels so special.

this is recompence for suffering through awkward western queer rep, for always having to watch traumatic coming outs as if you can't have a love story without them, for suffering some disgustingly fetishistic pieces of media, for always having to read between the lines, the subtext, for having to make do with blurry lines and deal with "oh nah theyre just friends, you people can't let people of the same gender be friends without wanting a romance".

bad buddy showed that a girl and a guy could be good, even best friends without being in love with each other and still cheat the other. it showed that a guy who once liked a girl could definitely have feelings for a guy and accept them both as part of him. it showed that girls do have their niche set of problems navigating sapphic relationships (felt you there pa). it shows that queer or not, family can still be traumatic, as it has been. it showed that a coming out scene can be "i like a girl" / "oh cool okay" over bowls of noodles.

this is actually what we've ever wanted. we love normally, go through normal conflits, have friends, talk about stuff everyone else does. our sexuality or identity isn't our whole personality. we do music, play sports, slack off or do well at school, have rivalries.

and i gotta thank this show for giving me that.

Spare Me Your Mercy, Love in the Big City, and the Trap of Pursuing Mainstream Popularity for Queer Art

I read this excellent post by @waitmyturtles yesterday tackling the frustrating failures of Spare Me Your Mercy, a show that was one of my most anticipated of the year, but that ended up so lost in its own confusing blend of sauces that I didn't even finish it. I appreciated her clarity that despite the show receiving strong ratings and finding popularity with the mainstream domestic audience, that doesn't actually make it a success as a piece of narrative storytelling. And if anything, its popularity underlines why it was a failure as a queer narrative, in particular.

Because here's the thing about great queer art—it's almost never popular with mainstream audiences, especially in socially conservative countries. High quality, well-executed, honest and authentic queer art is more likely to be protested than celebrated in places where real queer people are not safe to live free lives. For an illustration of this, look no further than another highly anticipated queer drama of this year in Love in the Big City. Easily the queerest show to ever get made and aired on Korean television, it drew major protests before it even started, forcing the production to release it quickly in one go to ensure it would reach audiences. And why were those conservative groups so afraid of this little old drama? Because even just in its trailer and promotional materials, it was clear this was no sanitized, G-rated drama created to make gay people seem more palatable to the masses (unlike the film version with the same name, which not coincidentally has been much more warmly received by the Korean media establishment). This show was real, and raw, and QUEER in a way that terrified those bigots, because they know one of the most important ways the oppressed can advocate for themselves is by demonstrating their humanity through art. 

Which brings me back to turtles’ post, and the importance of separating the concerns of art and commerce when discussing the different ways media can succeed. This is something I had some good dialogue about with @biochemjess @pharawee @clairedaring @flowerbeasblog and turtles (and even more of you in the tags) when I was still watching and posting about Spare Me Your Mercy. I originally posted to unpack why the show was flopping narratively, which turned into a discussion of the fact that it was getting good ratings from the domestic audience despite this. And while I appreciated understanding how the show is landing with its priority audience, for me, it’s very important to keep a distinction between these two different kinds of success. Especially in discussions of queer art, and especially for a show whose creators explicitly said they were intentionally downplaying the queer romance part of the queer romance ( @benkaben) to avoid “distracting” from their other messaging goals. 

The important thing to keep in mind is that for queer stories, when they are popular with a mainstream audience it’s often because they are stripping any authenticity from the representation of queer people. Turtles addressed this well in her review of 2gether when she posited that part of the reason it was such a phenomenon in conservative Asian countries (aside from the timing of its release in the early days of the global pandemic), was because its presentation of queerness was mostly unrecognizable to real queer people, stripped of any true notion of queer sexuality or the realities of homophobia. Compare the reception of The Miracle of Teddy Bear—a show that absolutely refused to make its central queer character palatable for a mainstream audience, because the fact that he wasn’t palatable was the point—to that of Spare Me Your Mercy, a show whose creators chose to censor their own story. The ugly truth is that when we’re talking about queer dramas, the best and most vital shows are pretty much anathema to mainstream ratings success.

The impulse to pursue mainstream popularity and commercial success for queer art inevitably leads to watering down queer stories ( @twig-tea) to make them more light, comfortable and familiar to a majority heterosexual and socially conservative audience. And yes, of course, some degree of commercial success is necessary for queer art to get made in the first place. This is how the Thai BL market took off, by recognizing that there was an audience beyond queer people who were open to watching stories about boys falling in love, as long as it didn’t get too real. But there is a careful line to walk here, and it’s so important not to confuse popularity with artistic merit. Queer people won’t win liberation by self-censoring queer media to make it more palatable for mainstream audiences. We win when we make queer art so good and so honest that the mainstream is forced to acknowledge it. We win by challenging the mainstream perspective on queer people and how they should behave, not by catering to it. As @bengiyo said in a completely different discourse, the question is not whether the audience can love queer characters whose actual queerness is suppressed for their comfort. That kind of respectability politics is old hat and it never fucking gets us anywhere. The real question he posed is this: “Do you love us when we’re ugly, when we’re sick, when we’re old, when we’re being mean or catty?”

Which is why a show like Love in the Big City ultimately won by being so excellent, and so true, and so undeniable, that it broke through with audiences around the world and achieved some measure of recognition in spite of how very unpalatable it was to its domestic audience. Unlike Spare Me Your Mercy, this show did not get amazing domestic ratings, but its message was heard far beyond those who watched it on Korean television. And that is the point. Making authentic art that advances the struggle of queer people and making nominally queer art that can achieve mainstream popularity are completely different pursuits, and we must keep that in mind when we discuss whether and how these shows succeeded or failed. And while both must exist in a healthy media ecosystem, one will always be more vital for the survival of queer people than the other. 

Don’t mind me…just thinking about how happy Pat looks here 😭😭😭