※ This review contains spoilers.
I watched episode 1 of Can We Be Strangers when it first aired, but it didn’t catch my interest, so I dropped it. Then, YouTube’s algorithm led me back to it. And here I found it again—the sub-plot was far more interesting than the main couple. A real sub-plot feast! (This was so much fun that this review will get long.)
It’s only 12 episodes. Maybe because of its short run, it feels a bit cut off in the middle, but at least the ending wasn’t implausible. Acceptable enough.
1. Welcome to the Sub-Plot Feast: Kang Bi-chwi x Kwon Si-wook
On the outside, they like each other.
But inside? They clash badly.
Kwon Si-wook looks like Bi-chwi’s ex-boyfriend, and Si-wook himself fell hard for Bi-chwi, suffering from one-sided love. Eventually, they are drawn to each other. But their personalities? Impossible to reconcile.
Bi-chwi is an ambitious, progressive “new woman.”
Si-wook is an old-fashioned, patriarchal, conservative man, always saying “Men should… Women should…”—the very picture of an outdated mindset. He even speaks in the Gyeongsang-do dialect, which adds a touch of realism.
He pretends to be a macho man, but his puppy-like younger-man charm spills out anyway.
“We can just pretend nothing happened. Come on, let’s do well.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just act like nothing happened. One, two, three!”
“No. How can something that happened be nothing?”
“If you set your mind to it, it can.”
“Not for me. I tried. I keep thinking about it. Not everyone’s like you.”
“Ha… this is driving me crazy. What kind of pure-hearted macho act is this?”
Bi-chwi is such a girl-crush, while Si-wook’s puppy-like pleading makes him irresistible.
He asks her straight out:
“Are we dating? Or what are we?”
She never thought they were dating. He thought they were. That mismatch of perception creates sparks.
Then comes the dramatic twist: a possible pregnancy.
“Is it my baby?”
“What are you talking about? No.”
“Feels like mine. Answer me.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I need to know. I’ll take responsibility.”
“Responsibility? Who do you think you are?”
This is where Bi-chwi shines again. “You’re not responsible for me. I am. I live by my choices. You don’t get to declare responsibility for my life or my child.”
That line hit me hard.
Eventually, Si-wook proposes marriage—not because of love, but because of “responsibility.” Bi-chwi rejects it, but he keeps pressing. He’s stubborn, but in his own way sincere.
And yet, in the end, he steps back:
“If that’s your decision, I’ll respect it. You’re right.”
That’s what makes him endearing—stubborn but not unyielding, traditional yet capable of growth. A man who knows when to let go of pride.
2. Oh Ha-ra x Goo Eun-beom
They divorced because Eun-beom cheated. At first, I thought there had to be some big misunderstanding. But no—the truth was worse. He was simply an avoidant type who failed as a partner.
Oh Ha-ra still loves him, and Eun-beom realizes belatedly where he went wrong. Their story feels incomplete—like it ended halfway. But maybe that’s the point.
I wanted them to reconcile and live happily ever after. But maybe that would’ve been too shallow. The bittersweetness makes the drama stronger.
3. The Default Settings of Life
“The default setting of life isn’t happiness.
It’s anxiety, depression, emptiness.
Not being unhappy—that’s actually pretty good.”
Eun-beom’s line struck me. I agree that happiness is not the default. You have to fight for it. But I disagree that “not unhappy” is good enough. That’s just existing. Life, to me, is worth living only if you dive into the fire sometimes—feel joy, pain, heartbreak, love. That’s what makes it meaningful.
All in all, it was a very entertaining drama. Manzoku. (Satisfied.)