Several years ago, a major Filipino media network produced a TV series about a child with special needs. It was horrible! First, it had a stereotypical and inaccurate portrayal of the condition that the protagonist was supposed to have. Second, the teleserye had all sorts of cliches.
So when I first heard about the K-drama, Extraordinary Attorney Woo, I thought that it would also disappoint me. And I was right: it is disappointing.
What I Liked About It
From an artistic perspective, there were some things that are commendable about this Netflix series. The acting, cinematography, and production design were great! Episode 1’s screenplay built up enough pressure to keep me rooting for Atty. Woo Young-woo, the protagonist with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). Or at least, it did until Episode 3.
I also appreciate this K-drama for raising awareness about the struggles that many people with ASD and their families experience. I love it that they focused on the difficulties of transitioning to adulthood, which is my niche specialty. There were also instances when I teared up because the protagonist’s and her father’s loneliness felt so real. Plus, the whale imagery is so cute! It brought back memories of how much my own patients with ASD loved certain kinds of animals.
In terms of ASD’s portrayal, meeting someone like Atty. Woo is plausible. It was also good that the show pointed out that not everyone with ASD is as brilliant as the protagonist. It was therefore not the creators’ intention to use Young-woo to represent all persons with ASD. They just wanted to tell a story.
And boy oh boy, do I wish they stuck to that plan.
Cardboard Characters
A key principle in effective fiction writing is to portray the truth as accurately as possible. The author risks making up stereotypical characters and cliche-ridden plots when he sugarcoats reality. The resulting drama would then feel inauthentic.
Extraordinary Attorney Woo ended up in this quagmire because the creators held back from delving into the darker side of having a developmental condition. This became apparent in its portrayal of Kim Jeong-hoon, the other character with ASD. The lack of clarity regarding the severity of his language and cognitive delays can confuse viewers’ understanding of his legal charges.
The show’s creators shirked from going all out on the possibility that Jeong-hoon has other mental health problems that altered his sense of reality about his brother’s actions. Medically speaking, ASD can co-occur with intellectual disability and schizophrenia, though not always. The other possibility is that he has enough cognitive ability to deliberately harm his sibling, which also happens in real life.
Exploring Jeong-hoon’s medical condition further could’ve raised more difficult issues that could fuel a more compelling, relatable drama. Did Jeong-hoon’s parents neglect their children? Are they criminally liable for the death of their eldest son? Are they capable of taking care of Jeong-hoon? If the court rules them to be incompetent, who will take care of him? How will Young-woo deal with the legal and psychological implications? How will the case impact Korean society?
The other supporting characters were also one-dimensional. Their sole purpose in the plot was to highlight how pitiful, smart, and adorable Young-woo is. Their actions did not stem from their complex motivations.
I understand that the creators are trying to put Attorney Woo in the context of social issues that concern Korean society. Doing so made many K-dramas world-class. The writers should’ve kept in mind though that the characters should respond to the Korean story world according to their nuanced psychological profiles. They shouldn’t be acting only based on how they can highlight the traits of persons with ASD. Attorney Woo’s creators seem to have forgotten this, hence the overdrawn, cringey, and useless melodramatic scenes.
Disclaimer
I only watched the first three episodes so, who knows, perhaps the series gained more depth in the latter parts. Moreover, I only depended on the English subtitles because I don’t know Korean. Maybe some important insights about the characters got lost in the translation? I read the other episodes’ synopsis though, and found nothing compelling.
Still, Extraordinary Attorney Woo is a sign of progress. It gave us an opportunity to look at the world through the eyes of people with ASD in Asia, where there are many barriers to the inclusion of persons with disabilities. Moreover, Korean writers took the risk to experiment with an extraordinary K-drama formula. Making mistakes when doing something new is a natural phase of acquiring skills. So I’d like to tell them what we therapists love to say to our clients: “Keep on trying!”
Agree!!! The writer must understand his fictional character-which he created! The character must have a past that affects his thinking -and consequently, his actions and words. It is uncanny how, if the character is three dimensional, the character almost evolves on his own and the plot too thickens accordingly. 😀