Move Over, Hollywood, South Korea Is Eating Your Lunch
Squid Game
I have my issues with South Korean entertainment. For one thing, I can’t get used to the acting style. It sometimes feels that when gentle weeping is called for, the actor will bawl and wail to the heavens. When yelling is in the script, the actor screams loud enough to be heard in North Korea. Perhaps that’s not overacting, but just a cultural thing.
In any case, there is no output from a foreign country that I’ve enjoyed more than South Korea’s. Unlike recent American TV and movies, Korean shows usually feature characters I like. The country’s dramas and comedies have the power to make me do something Hollywood products do not: feel something.
Here are abridged reviews of 14 South Korean shows I’ve praised over the past 14 years. I gave all of them at least a “B” rating. Search the titles for my full reviews.
Squid Game
Squid Game has always been a flawed show. The villainous “V.I.P.s” are cartoonish. Some subplots feel like filler to justify three seasons of the series. But when the show is good, it is very, very good — better, methinks, than any other show I’ve watched in 2025.
Here’s what distinguishes Squid from its thematic forebears: Enough thought has been put into the characters so that, as a viewer, you will care about who wins and who loses. And each of the six deadly children’s games the participants are asked to endure is tense and exciting.
Grade: A-
*
You Are My Spring
You Are My Spring
Maybe it’s because at heart I am a teenage girl, partial to bubble-gum rock and cheesy horror movies, but I liked the show. There’s no question that at times Spring veers into sappiness. The romantic leads, playing characters who are in their 30s, often behave as though they are 13-year-olds in the throes of puppy love. These scenes are sometimes cute, sometimes silly. Yet when the genre-blending series concentrates on its central romance — and even on some secondary romances involving supporting characters — it is sweet and often funny. Grade: A-
*
Parasite
I enjoyed Parasite, in which a rich family is infiltrated by a clan of con artists — think Al Bundy and his goofball brood from Married … with Children, but with Korean faces and street smarts. The movie’s elaborate con and the ensuing carnage are all amusing enough but … is it one of the “best films of the century”? Nope. Not even close. Grade: B
*
#Alive
#Alive
I was attracted to the premise of #Alive, a zombie flick from Korea in which a young man wakes up to discover that the world outside his upper-floor apartment is overrun by snarling brain-eaters. This isn’t as good as the similar-themed I Am Legend, or Korea’s manic Train to Busan, but it will do on a boring Saturday night. Grade: B
*
Burning
Burning
Until its ending, which I thought was unnecessarily ambiguous, Burning felt like a Korean version of Hitchcock’s Vertigo. A young man (Ah-in Yoo) falls in love with a free-spirited girl (Jong-seo Jun) in the first half of the film and then, after the girl vanishes, he spends the second half engaged in an obsessive search that leads to some very dark places. But until that abrupt and unsatisfying ending, the movie is compelling and filled with haunting images. Grade: B+
*
Train to Busan
Train to Busan
It’s refreshing to find a snark-free, sarcasm-free story — like time traveling back to 1950s Hollywood for wholesome, goofy fun but with modern special effects. Busan is non-stop entertaining, with heroes who are clearly good and villains who do all but wear black hats when passengers on a high-speed train do battle with zombies. Grade: B+
*
The Wailing
The Wailing
Locals begin committing bizarre crimes after a mysterious Japanese man moves to their South Korean village, and it’s up to some unsophisticated cops to investigate. The good news: The movie is well-shot, and the final half-hour is both scary and surprising. (Think you’ve figured out the twist? Think again.) The bad news: You do have to sit through two hours of standard-issue horror to reach that entertaining wrap-up. Grade: B
*
Flu
Here’s a big, dumb, special-effects-heavy disaster pic from Korea, inspired by big, dumb, special-effects-heavy disaster pics from Hollywood, but featuring that peculiar Korean mash-up of 1950s wholesomeness and modern sensibilities (the heroine is a single-mother virologist). Grade: B-
*
Oldboy
Korean director Park Chan-wook’s trippy revenge-mystery doesn’t always make sense, and it’s a tad too long, but it’s hard to take your eyes off the screen. And a twist near the end is a real whopper. Grade: B+
*
The Host
The Host, South Korean director Bong Joon-ho’s homage to 1950s monster-from-hell B movies, is a strange brew of slapstick comedy and serious, environmental commentary. But I also thought that the story, in which a polluted river gives birth to an ill-tempered beast, was consistently entertaining. Grade: B+
The Housemaid
The Housemaid
This erotic thriller promises to deliver the mother of all Korean catfights. It doesn’t quite come through, but watching the four female leads as they lie, scheme, and shift loyalties makes for some ticklish good fun in director Im Sang-soo’s remake of a 1960 Korean classic. Grade: B
*
The Good, the Bad, the Weird
The Good, the Bad, the Weird
Although the film is a bit on the long side (130 minutes), The Good, the Bad, the Weird is a screwball Western for people (like me) who think they burned out on Westerns a long time ago. Grade: B+
*
Mother
This isn’t Hitchcock-level material, but Mother does contain some nice surprises, a colorful cast, and a fascinating glimpse at one segment of Korean society. Grade: B
*
Money Heist
Korea’s remake of a hit Spanish show. I enjoyed both versions. I gave the edge to Korea’s version because I thought the actresses were hotter. Sue me. Grade: B
© 2010-2025 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
Tim Pool
Tim Pool’s a fascinating podcaster to watch. His brain works at warp speed, and so does his mouth. He seems to demolish opponents simply on the strength of assertiveness and, just as crucial, the quickness of his brain. His rapid-fire comments often fluster whoever he’s talking to.
But here’s the thing. Speed doesn’t always equate to correct. Just because he’s able to whip out an argument does not mean it’s gospel. Speed is a debate technique to throw off your foe. Skill can trump substance. (Think back to Johnnie Cochran during the O.J. Simpson trial.)
This would be an interesting test: Ask Pool to debate a political issue with someone on the left, but with a twist — the debate has to be in writing.
*
Don’t get me wrong: I am a fan of Pool. I usually agree with his politics, but not always.
Something that bothers me about Pool (and cohost Phil Labonte): Pool makes a living discussing controversial issues. But rarely does he lose his cool. An exception is when anyone makes the mistake of attacking capitalism in general — specifically the rich.
You get the feeling that capitalism is near and dear to Pool’s heart because he’s newly rich, himself. He is driven and instinctively hostile to anyone or anything that threatens his ambition. That’s fine, as far as it goes.
But Pool and Labonte are too dismissive of a real problem: the outrageous income inequality in America. The vast majority of people cannot simply “work harder” to succeed, as Pool advocates.
You can defend capitalism, which has been good to you, while at the same time acknowledging that it badly needs reform. Pool and Labonte would rather shoot the messengers than consider solutions to the problem.
**
Nice to see the Supreme Court snipping off the balls of rogue, liberal judges — at least for now.
**
YouTube ads have gotten a lot worse. Speaking of Pool, for years he eschewed any kind of ads. Then he began hawking his coffee. Then he began reading canned promos at the beginning of his show. Meanwhile, YouTube company ads are also interrupting the show. This is not limited to Pool’s show. It’s everywhere on YouTube. Enough already.
**
TV Tidbit
Dept. Q is a pretty good cop show. It doesn’t hold up to Netflix gems of the past like Ozark, Peaky Blinders, or The Crown, but I recommend it.
**
True and False
True
I once asked my elderly aunt (now deceased), a woman who never wed, what she thought about marriage. She told me that she could imagine no better state of affairs than a happy marriage. But she quickly added that she could imagine no worse state of affairs than an unhappy marriage.
Sounds right to me.
False
Feminists perpetuate the fiction that women “can have it all.”
Sounds like bullshit. In life, for men and women, success is not (usually) about winning or losing. It’s about trade-offs. Yes, you can have this; but if you do, you can’t have that.
**
A.O.C.
Are any of the following pics real, or are they A.I.?
And finally, there is this:
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No review today. My older sister, Kathie, died last night. That’s her in the middle in the picture above, along with my other sister and me. The photo below is from her college days.
To say she made an impact on the people in her life would be a major understatement.
Rest in peace, big sister.
© 2010-2025 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
The Long (Miserable) Weekend
Friday the 13th certainly kicked off a horrific weekend, at least for me.
Tomorrow I’m flying to Florida to see a gravely ill relative, perhaps for the last time.
A few miles from here, a “No Kings” protest (riot?) is about to commence.
The shooting of lawmakers (above) occurred this morning in the suburb where I work my 9-5 job, just a few miles from where I sit typing this review.
It’s gray and drizzly outside.
How is your weekend?
**
**
Setting aside depressing news for a minute, let’s see what Sabrina Carpenter is up to. I have no idea who she is. A singer, I guess. But she seems to want my attention:
**
Speaking of selling sex, why does Hollywood have a thing against pubic hair on starlets?
Below are clips of an actress named Kate Groombridge in a movie called Virgin Territory. First, I’ve posted the final scene. Next, I’ve posted the raw, original scene which did not make the final cut — apparently because of Groombridge’s pussy hair.
© 2010-2025 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
A.I. Pride Month!
People I respect — mostly intellectuals and Neanderthals — are insisting that it’s just a matter of time before artificial intelligence puts an end to us. That’s depressing.
I’d rather focus on the joys of A.I. For instance, I like the pictures it makes for me. I asked it to create a picture of a haunted house, and it gave me this:
I asked it to describe The Grouchy Editor, and it came up with this, which we thought was rather flattering:
Then I got horny and began thinking of Lauren Cohan, an actress I’ve admired since The Walking Dead premiered many years ago.
I had never seen a good picture of her butt. The closest she came to showing me her butt was in a 2006 movie called Van Wilder: The Rise of Taj, where we all got to see this:
Those panties are pretty flimsy. You can clearly see the contours of Lauren’s gluteus maximus. Surely, A.I. could erase those panties? I made a request and got this:
See how wonderful A.I. can be?
At least until it destroys us.
© 2010-2025 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
Like Joe Biden, I have prostate cancer.
Joe Biden doesn’t know me, does not feel sorry for me.
I don’t know Joe Biden, but I do know of him. I don’t feel sorry for him.
I’m sure there are many elderly men in our prisons suffering from cancer. No one feels sorry for them.
Joe Biden belongs in a cell along with those elderly prisoners.
**
Democrat Woes
My unsolicited advice to Democrats trying to appeal to, presumably, straight young men: Tell idiots like Pedro Pascal to sit down and shut up.
**
I’ve been watching Sherlock & Daughter. I had hopes for pure, escapist fun.
Silly me.
The most recent episode featured a young man attempting to impress Daughter by taking her to a women’s suffrage meeting. At said meeting Daughter proceeded to lecture young man about the harsh treatment of indigenous peoples in America and Australia.
I half expected her to bring up global warming, even though the show takes place in the 19th century.
You cannot escape wokeness.
© 2010-2025 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
Poker Face
Lately, I keep seeing movies and TV shows that are pretty good … but not great.
Here is a sampling from the past week, along with my humble opinions on what went wrong with the shows. Hint: It’s rarely bad acting or direction; it’s usually a problem with the script or story development.
Poker Face, season two
I enjoyed Natasha Lyonne in season one. Critics loved the return to a format out of fashion since Columbo went off the air: We see the crime and offender in the first 15 minutes, then watch as our heroine solves the mystery. It’s not a whodunit, but rather a how-will-she-catch-the-culprit.
Season one felt fresh, a welcome throwback to rumpled, lovable Peter Falk’s Columbo. Charlie (Lyonne), also lovable and rumpled, saw that justice was done.
What went wrong — Columbo was deceptively sharp. He lulled his prey into a false sense of security and then, relying on his little grey cells, nailed the bad guy. Charlie, on the other hand, relies on a gimmick: her “bullshit” detector. For some absurd reason, she always recognizes the big lie. That’s gotten old. Another problem: like Columbo, Charlie is comical. But the humor is too over-the-top now, including random shootouts and chases with bad guys who are out to get our girl.
The Changeling
George C. Scott plays a widower living in a haunted house near Seattle. Roger Ebert had this to say in 1980: “Scott makes the hero so rational, normal and self-possessed that we never feel he’s in real danger; we go through this movie with too much confidence.”
Sorry, Roger, but I disagree. I thought it was refreshing to shake up the usual ghost-story set-up — young, trembling female terrorized by evil spirits — and instead, give us a cantankerous, middle-aged man. If George C. Scott is unsettled, is it any wonder that the audience is, too? The first hour of the movie is scary-good fun.
What went wrong — When George leaves the house in the second half of the film, the story goes off the rails. (I, too, frequently go off the rails by resorting to cliches like “off the rails.” But I digress.)
None of us know what happens after death. When screenwriters attempt to explain too much, their answers are usually far-fetched.
They should have left George in the house.
Black Bag
Here is director Steven Soderbergh lamenting the box-office failure of his clever black comedy about British spies: “This is the kind of film I made my career on. And if a mid-level budget, star-driven movie can’t seem to get people over the age of 25 years old to come out to theatres — if that’s truly a dead zone — then that’s not a good thing for movies. What’s gonna happen to the person behind me who wants to make this kind of film?”
Black Bag has clever dialogue, good acting, and an amusing plot.
What went wrong — I’m not sure. I suspect the fact that the characters, although interesting, are not particularly likeable, might have something to do with it.
**
Enough critical nit-picking. Let’s praise something. Let’s praise a girl who knows how to shake things up.
Apparently, the angle above wasn’t sufficiently close to Ary Tenorio’s buttocks. So they tried it again:
**
I can carp all day about the dangers of “third-stage feminism,” but only a (relatively) young, attractive woman can get by with truth-telling like this.
© 2010-2025 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
The more we learn about the Biden administration in particular, and Democrat leadership in general, I’m tempted to ask myself: “How could tens of millions of people (useful idiots) vote for these awful Democrats?”
But I can’t, in good conscience, be too judgmental of those voters.
I voted for Bill Clinton in 1992. By the time he ran for a second term, I’d had enough of him and voted for Bob Dole. Apparently, I learned my lesson.
I voted for Barack Obama in 2008. I thought his election might help racial healing in the country. In 2012, I voted for him again. Apparently, I did not learn my lesson.
The media, biased and lying, doesn’t make things easy for the average voter. None of us are invited to backroom meetings with powerful donors where the big decisions are made. We are forced to rely on unreliable media for information.
Sometimes we learn our lesson, sometimes we don’t.
I think the Democrat voters are wrong right now. But I suppose, if Trump steers us into World War III, I will be the one who once again failed to learn his lesson.
We live and learn. Or not.
**
Ever surf the Internet and stumble across a pic of someone you know — in her birthday suit?
Yeah, me too. Twice now.
I won’t say her name. But you want to see, so here she is in all her glory (not sure who the naked knee belongs to):
© 2010-2025 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
The Return of the Pussy
Poor Rosa Parks. From the back of the bus to the front of some panties.
If the Met Gala is any indication, looks like the pussy is back.
These things run in cycles. For example, 1992, the year in which Sharon Stone flashed the world her privates in Basic Instinct, was a year of the pussy.
2021, on the other hand, was the year Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez asked the world (aside from booty man Alex Stein) to admire her backside at the Met Gala (below).
But now, apparently, thanks to Halle Berry and singer Lisa, the pussy is back.
I mention all of this merely as a public service. That, and I wanted to post some pictures.
**
Civil War?
It should be common sense, and this is hardly an original thought on my part, but it seems to me that we need the left and we need the right.
Stereotypically, the left is composed of dreamers. Also stereotypically, the right is composed of practical thinkers.
Problems arise when one side dominates the other and seeks to impose its worldview.
In recent years, the left has gained control of just about every institution, and Biden imposed liberal policies on everyone.
Trump is the backlash. I don’t want Trump to dictate every social policy in perpetuity any more than I want the left to do the same.
I’d rather think about pussies.
© 2010-2025 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
