K-dramas Humanise Mental Disabilities
Mental health-themed TV series or films are sometimes hard to watch because they tend to be too intense, dark, clinical, macabre, or preachy. Western narratives may be negative or positive, but many rarely resonate with me.
But K-dramas are different. They are not about giving solutions. They are about humanising mental health. They leave behind lasting empowerment.
I am drawn to K-dramas that portray authentic representations of mental disabilities. They are not always perfect, but they foster empathy and understanding by presenting more realistic depictions that challenge stereotypes and outdated notions of mental illness, thus, opening a path to healing, fostering a community that can lead to a sense of belonging.
First, for the afflicted to feel validated, to realise they are not alone, to be kinder to themselves, to have the courage to go on with their lives, to help them see different perspectives (from the eyes of their family, friends, colleagues, community) and how they see themselves through a resonating story – their story – played out on the big screen.
Second, for the viewers to change mindset or biases against the disabled, be more compassionate and more self-aware.
K-dramas make me more self-aware, more understanding, more compassionate and more in-tune with my true feelings. I still think and talk about a K-drama series I’ve binged on long after the finale aired. Most Western shows and movies don’t have the same post-viewing effect on me.
From documentaries to melodramas and psycho crime thrillers to self-help fictions, K-dramas present real-life struggles and, hopefully, spark open discussions. They are well-produced with compelling scripts and South Korean A-lister cast that portray characters suffering from depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, post-traumatic stress disorder and repressed memories among others.
Staying power of authentic of representation
I’ve lost count of the number of K-dramas I’ve watched dealing with psychological disorders that are deemed too sensitive to discuss.
There were quite a few that left such an imprint on me such as It’s Okay Not To Be Okay, Dear My Friends, It’s Okay That’s Love, Fix You, Move To Heaven, Flower of Evil, Blind, Doctor John and Kill Me Heal Me, to name a few.
But it wasn’t until I watched Extraordinary Attorney Woo (2022, Netflix) that I crystallised why I gravitate toward K-dramas dealing with mental health narratives: their staying power of authentic representation.
Extraordinary Attorney Woo
“Having a mental or physical disorder does not mean they are mentally unfit. It is only when the disability affects one’s ability to discern things and make decisions that they are considered to be mentally unfit.” – From the series
The 27-year-old young lawyer Woo Young-Woo (Park Eun-Bin) is extremely smart with Asperger's syndrome, an autism spectrum disorder. She has 164 IQ, an amusing creative thought process (the symbolic animated whales when her mind wanders are an endearing creative touch), and an impressive memory. She never forgets what she sees, but she painfully lacks social skills and empathy, and often struggles with everyday interactions with humans.
The unconditional love of Dong Geu-ra-mi (Joo Hyun-young), Woo’s best friend, and her colleague-turned-boyfriend Lee Jun-ho (Kang Tae-oh) will tug at the heartstrings. Both staunch supporters not only help Woo see the world through their own eyes, but they also affectionately guard her when they realise she is unable to do so. This show leaves an everlasting impact on the viewers with a tinge of heartache.
All 16 episodes are consistently on-point, never deviating from its focal message: the struggles are real, but if one takes the good with the bad situations, it is possible to overcome misery despite battling with a mental disability. (Season 2 is reported to air sometime in 2024).
What impressed me the most was the authentic representation and portrayal of Attorney Woo’s autism. I say authentic because someone I dearly love, a niece, has autism from birth. I saw my niece in Woo – her mannerism, her genuine child-like laughter and smile, the flitting eyes when her head was racing with thoughts. It’s so uncanny that Woo’s demeanor is the same as my niece's. It gave me goosebumps (in a good way). Just like Woo who found joy and success in her profession, my niece is thriving and excelling in her choice of career with a couple of work excellence awards under her belt.
Extraordinary Attorney Woo may be my top-of-mind, but this isn’t the first time K-dramas have boldly put a spotlight on sensitive mental health topics.
Here are a few that are worth adding to your watchlist. I have watched these, some more than once, because they are a source of wisdom for when I’m faced with delicate situations.
Our Blues
“The world is full of stories, waiting to be told.” – From the series
The story takes place on picturesque Jeju Island and revolves around the ordinary residents of a laid back seaside community. Or so it seems at the start. As the plot progresses, however, a range of human issues and turmoil unravels as viewers are served a full course of heartbreaking backstories realistically rendered in heart-tugging scenes, thanks to the brilliant performance of K-dramas A-list actors and actresses. Piecing together a compendium of subplots is not easy. It’s hard not to get affected by each of the character’s state of confusion, loneliness, bottled up angst – all stemming from mental impairments caused by child abuse, childhood trauma, debts, teen pregnancy, suicide and depression.
The series addresses depression through one of its main characters, 30-something Min Seoh-ah (Shin Min-a), who is in a perennial state of existential exhaustion. Finding it extremely difficult to wake up in the morning, she stays in bed, soaked in sweat and completely detached from her present surroundings. Despite her daily inner tussell she manages to face the world with a fake smile and does her chores for the sake of her three-year-old child. With her dimples framing her pretty face, no one suspects that Seoh-ah is plagued by depression caused by the underlying trauma she suffered, witnessing her father drive his car into the sea to kill himself, and her mother getting abused during childhood.
Seoh-ah’s story may be the centre of Our Blues, but the intricacies of mental health issues that shadow her fellow residents 24/7 come through with depth and intensity through the lens of renowned director Kim Kyu-tae (legendary for his award-winning series like It's Okay That's Love, Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo and That Winter The Wind Blows) and screenwriter Noh Hee-Kyung (known for her That Winter The Wind Blows, Dear My Friends, It’s Okay That’s Love). By the way, mental health is also prominent in director Kim’s and writer Noh’s series just mentioned.
It’s Okay Not To Be Okay
“You can cherish and care about people in different ways. Think about the different kinds of yellow. Even the same color can take different names depending on its chroma. The same goes for human emotions, such as affection. Fondness, hatred, love, friendship, and lust. They are like a rainbow.” – From the series
The emotional drama presents a multitude of mental health issues: childhood trauma, autism, and caregiver burn-out. It follows the story of the three characters as their lives get entangled.
A series of mysteries unravels about their childhood. Two brothers, caregiver Kang-tae (Kim Soo-hyun) and his autistic older Sang-tae (Oh Jung-se), frequently move from town to town since a young Sang-tae witnessed their mother's murder. Taking care of his sick older brother was a choice Kang-tae made. Circumstances lead Kang-tae to work at the OK Psychiatric Hospital in the fictional Seongjin City, the same city where they lived when they were young. It’s coming full circle from where their traumas started.
At the psychiatric facility Kang Tae meets a famous children's book writer, Ko Moon-young (Seo Yea-ji), who Sang-tae happens to be a big fan. The high-strung, seemingly eccentric and overbearing Moon-young is rumoured to have antisocial personality disorder that is believed to be caused by a traumatic childhood when her mother died under mysterious circumstances, and her dad blames her for it. She develops a romantic obsession for caregiver Kang-tae after finding out that their pasts overlap.
The three, whose childhood is connected in a twisted way, unknowingly influence each other’s healing, helping each other overcome personal traumas while learning to break free from the shackles of societal expectations. The climax is almost cathartic and makes you feel happy about how life has turned out for the three.
I cheered for Kang Tae when he finally acknowledged how, even as a young child, he had to put his needs aside to care for his older brother. Joining Moon-young on a road trip, he is finally doing something for himself. Lesson: being a caretaker can sometimes be mentally exhausting. So it’s okay to be selfish once in a while to keep your sanity.
Dear My Friends
“They say, parents love their children more than children love their parents. But, I think, that was made up by a parent. There’s only one thing us children did wrong. It’s not that we didn’t love you back enough, but that we deluded ourselves into thinking that our parents would stay with us forever.” – From the series
Ageing is a fact of life. But issues attached to ageism are not often talked about despite a growing global concern on ageing population. By 2050, the world’s population of people aged 60 years and older will reach 2.1 billion. (World Health Organization)
Dear My Friends issues such as physical and mental health deterioration are shown and portrayed by a feisty but amusing ensemble of senior acting thespians comprising more than half the entire cast.
But what is more hard-hitting are the concerns and conditions many ageing populations around the world privately face every day. There are worries on retirement finances, concerns for adult children who are experiencing various stresses, and health problems. Moreover, the fears ageing people feel include losing loved ones, losing their self-respect and dignity as their bodies start to break down thus requiring more assistance with their daily needs.
The story is a perfect combination of funny and bittersweet, which contributed to each character’s hard but heartwarming journey. From facing and resolving complicated relationships and dealing with hard-to-accept suicide of a mentally fragile child to domestic abuse and self-destructive behaviours, the complex emotions and mental anguish come through with such realism it’s hard not to cry at some scenes. Well, I did get teary thinking about my aging mother who lives in California (USA). And then there’s the whirlwind romance between Park Wan (Go Hyun-Jung) and Seo Yeon-ha (Zo In-sung), which seems idyllic and sweet on the surface, but gives off a foreboding vibe.
Move To Heaven
“They say a person dies three times. The first is when their heart stops beating, the second is when they’re buried in the ground, and the third is when the last person who remembers them dies.” – From the series
I wasn’t familiar with the term “trauma cleaner” until I watched this series. It refers to a company that cleans and detoxifies the area after someone passes away as well as gathers and discards their personal things.
Move To Heaven has a unique plot. It delicately presents a gamut of issues related to grief, trauma, autism, depression, anxiety, neurodiversity. The drama’s portrayal of complicated human emotions through the eyes of trauma cleaners (played by Tang Jun-sang, Ji Jin-hee and Lee Je-hoon) is quite moving.
Each episode offers the viewer a peak into a day in the life of a trauma cleaner when the tasks of cleaning, sorting and gathering belongings of the deceased brings with it varying degrees of emotions as they confront death, loss and lingering traces of trauma – for the cleaner and the grieving survivor who the cleaner must do the frangible job of handing over a box of personal effects (symbolising the remains of what was once the life of the departed).
Inspired by a South Korean essay written by someone who worked as a trauma cleaner, the goal is not to dwell on the pain or suffering. Rather, its focus is on consoling those who are grieving for their loss. The moving moments spread out throughout not only encourage viewers to reflect on the importance of compassion and understanding, but also to underscore for those left behind they must continue living.
Daily Dose of Sunshine
“Mental health illness is an actual sickness, not a sin as it is made out to be.” – From the series
This underrated drama series does not shy away from showing the raw nature of psychiatric illnesses as seen through the eyes and personal experience of the lead character, nurse Da-eun (Park Bo-young). Assigned to a hospital’s psychiatric ward, she gets too invested in her patients (a professional hazard for healthcare providers), which slowly erodes her mental health.
The series explores psychiatric afflictions (over-compulsive disorder, schizophrenia, anxiety and depression) without sensationalising or over-simplifying them. Rather, the script puts human faces to the illnesses, which sparks empathy and compassion in viewers like me.
Woven into the story is Da-eun’s personal crisis – battling daily with her own overanxiety and depression for which she undergoes therapy and takes a prescription unbeknownst to her patients and workplace colleagues. The series brings forth a common aspect of denial of one's own mental illness as touchingly portrayed by Da-eun. It also succeeded in underscoring that mental illness can impact anyone regardless of age, social stature, profession, race. Being a nurse or a healthcare professional doesn’t guarantee immunity and, in fact, makes one more susceptible to trauma that could lead to an unhealthy state of mind.
Good Doctor
“Courage doesn’t mean you have no fears. It means you don’t let fears stop you.” – From the series
Park Si-on (Joo Won) has Savant Syndrome (on the autism spectrum). He was sent to a specialised care center as a child, where he was discovered to have a genius-level memory and keen spatial skills. He eventually enters the field of pediatric surgery as a resident with his life mentor quietly guiding him navigate the fiercely competitive pediatric department, where he is given six months to prove himself capable.
Si-on becomes a brilliant surgeon, but has a stunted emotional development of a child that even his compassionate mentor labeled him a “soulless robot” of a doctor who can only rely heavily on his photographic memory instead of feeling what the patient needs. Si-on struggles to succeed as a surgeon and fit in with his co-workers at the hospital. But as the plot develops, each character gets close and learns from one another, changing their perspectives on autistic individuals in the process.
The 20-episode series does not sugar-coat the issues and struggles. In its endearing yet heartbreaking approach to a taboo subject, the writer, director, producers and cast of Good Doctor collectively succeed in illustrating that a mental disorder, like the Savant Syndrome, doesn’t have to be a life sentence when there are people around who are caring and willing to walk with the afflicted in their journey to be a part of the community they live in.
By the way, American medical drama television series The Good Doctor starring Shaun Murphy is a remake of the 2013 South Korean series of the same name that aired on ABC from September 25, 2017, to May 21, 2024, lasting seven seasons and 126 episodes.
I wish I had more space to review my top K-dramas dealing with mental health. But here are a few more and the main cast to add to your watchlist. I promise they are binge-worthy.
Hyde, Jekyll and Me: Hyun Bin, Han Ji-min, Sung Joon
Two Lights: Relumino: Park Hyung-Sik, Han Ji-min
Queen of Tears: Kim Soo-hyun, Kim Ji-won, Park Sung Hoon
It’s Okay That’s Love: Zo In-sung, Gong Hyo-jin
The Good, Bad Mother: Ra Mi-ran, Lee Do-hyun, Jin-young-soon
My Mister: Lee Sun-kyun and IU
Flower of Evil: Lee Jongi-gi, Moon Chae-won, Kim-hoon
The Glory: Song Hye-kyo, Jung Sung-il, Lee Do-hyun
Link: Eat. Love. Kill: Yeo Jin-goo, Moon Ga-young, Lee Bom, Song Duk-ho
Doctor Slump: Park Hyung-sik, Park Shin-hye
Fix You: Tan In-ho, Shin Ha-kyun, Joo Mingyung
Rain or Shine (a.k.a. Just Between Lovers): Lee Jun-ho, Won Jin-ah, Lee-woo
My Happy Ending: Jang Na Ra, Son Ho-jun, Lee Ki-tae
Kill Me, Heal Me: Ji Sung, Park Seo Joon, Hwang Jung-eum
Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo: Lee Jong-gi, Kang Ha-neul, IU, When The Weather Is Fine - Seo Kang-joon, Park Min-young, Lee Jae-wook, Kim Young-dae
Chocolate: Yoon Kye-sang, Ha Ji-won, Teo Yoo, Jang Seung-jo
That Winter The Wind Blows: Zo In-sung, Song Hye-kyo, Kim Bum
Sky Castle: Yum Jung-ah, Kim Aye-yoon, Yoon-Se-ah, Kim Seo-hyung, Oh Na-ra, Jo Byeong-kyu, Lee Tae0ran, Kim Bo-ra
May these K-dramas ignite sensible dialogues in our communities and elevate our understanding for both the sufferers and their loved ones who support them in their struggle.
Mental illnesses affect around 970 million people worldwide, and 14.3% of deaths globally (approx 8 million deaths annually) are attributable to mental disorders.
In South Korea, the stigma is markedly higher. More than 2.64 million South Koreans, comprising 5.1 percent of the country's total population, were registered as disabled persons in 2023, according to annual statistics released by the Ministry of Health and Welfare.
Hopefully, the popularity of K-dramas will slowly open more forums for discussion and, eventually, trigger positive changes to centuries-old negative notions.
Debbie | ws