2 out of 5

Directed by: Lee Joon-ik

Upfront, let me say that I think some disservice is likely done to this show through its English subtitles. While I do believe the gist is there – or at least what I imagine the gist to be from other context – there are certain phrasings that feel… off. The show (tries to) deal with some pretty metaphysical things, and I suspect the translations of those conversations are not great at grabbing some nuance or subtext from the original Korean. They don’t read as word-for-word, so some “upscaling” was done, it’s just not ideal. I mean, possibly the script is just… nonsensical, but I honestly don’t think that’s the case.

Rather: the script is just weak. Overall. There’s absolutely promise here, but Yonder makes the classic sci-fi mistake of feinting towards adding some color to its idea – e.g. some “how does this work?” wonks for the science yonks out there – and then assuming that the feint is all that’s needed to answer the questions. That’s not the entirety of the rating ding, though, but it’s a hint of what’s to come, which is just shortsighted, unfortunately.

One additional preamble: I’m largely ignorant of the world outside of my own country – which is not Korea – and my personal bubble within it. That’s not a purposeful approach necessarily, but just admitting to the reality. It’s very possible Yonder is making some comments on class or status in South Korea – or maybe it’s even more obvious than, and there’s something surface level regarding euthanasia that’s a talking point there – and I’m not picking up on that. I didn’t sense much agenda beyond the show’s philosophizing, but just wanted to allow for the possibility of my personal blinders making me sound stupider than usual.

Yonder posits a near future South Korea where euthanasia is legalized / encouraged and standardized. We join the terminally ill Ye-Hoo (Han Ji-min) and her husband Ja-Hyun (Shin Ha-kyun) at the moment when they’re ready for him to push the button on the machinery that will put her to her final sleep. As the process completes, Ja-Hyun is greeted by a mysterious visitor, Se-rin (Lee Jung-eun), who mentions some business relationship she’d had with Ye-Hoo; later, when Ye-Hoo’s body is being taken away, a small device is discovered on her neck – a type of neural interface that is intuited to have been storing her memories in some way.

Gee, that’s strange, but probably okay to ignore it until it’s relevant. (Another indication of Yonder’s approach – the story being just a loose shell for its loose ideas.)

Ja-Hyun, a journalist, is ready to go back to work, and the story kicking off: Yonder, a digital space in which the dead may live on, in their own personal “heavens.” Meanwhile, more devices like those found on Ye-Hoo’s neck are being discovered on the euthanized and soon, Ja-Hyun is getting emails from his deceased wife, essentially explaining that she’s waiting for him in Yonder…

The show, with some good acting and an empty but consistent “sci-fi” atmosphere of see-thru cellphones and working self-driving cars, does arrive at an interesting thought experiment: does the physical event actually matter, or does your memory of it matter? Unfortunately, once the show states this query, it essentially lays all of its cards out for the progress of Ja-Hyun’s interactions with “Ye-Hoo,” initially through email and then cautious forays into Yonder; we revisit this question again, and again, and again, with society’s piqued interest in this digital life after death leading to some bleak outcomes, which in turn affects Ja-Hyun’s feeling on the matter. The show plays at mystery by poking at some “how?”s, as mentioned above, and trying to stir up some controversy with Yonder’s creator’s background, but it’s essentially padding between iterations of this question.

Which is answered, though as weakly as possible: the appreciably bold attempt to normalize death through the premise gets washed away with a spin on the age-old love conquers all bullshit that movies and shows and books love to retreat to; we’re still too scared to really ask the question the show keeps asking.

At half hour episodes (after the premiere), the contemplative pace of the show, guided by Shin Ha-kyun’s balanced performance – juggling the trauma of losing his wife with skepticism over Yonder, with conflicting hope for the technology at the same time – admittedly keeps things moving well. The “sci-fi” setting that I put in quotes may be silly and illogical in many ways (you can kinda just walk in to Yonder’s office buildings, and even though it’s super personalized and apparently popular, we only ever see one person working there, and one other patron at the office), but you shouldn’t undervalue the consistency I mentioned: it helps with the immersion during those 30 minutes, which may be slight, but it’s enough. And I guess I’ve seen enough of these speculative types of stories to recognize that I wasn’t going to be getting much out of it.

None of this improves the overall quality of the show, which amounts to pretty but shallow naval gazing, but at least in committing to watching it, I wasn’t bored or felt put out by sifting through its short six episode season.