The Weekend Binge: "When Life Gives You Tangerines"
- Mia Borja
- Apr 1
- 4 min read
It’s rare for a show to capture both the ordinariness of everyday life and the full gamut of human emotion in just 16 episodes, but Netflix's When Life Gives You Tangerines does exactly that. Like its namesake fruit—luscious, ripe, and unassuming—this quiet drama peels back the layers of ordinary lives to reveal a powerful emotional core that stuns, lingers, and ultimately satisfies.
The Plot
Set against the breathtaking backdrop of Jeju Island, When Life Gives You Tangerines follows the decades-spanning love story of Oh Ae-sun and Yang Gwan-sik as they grow from spirited teenagers into weathered parents and partners. Beginning in the 1960s, the drama traces their journey through the ups and downs of marriage, the trials of raising children, financial hardship during Korea's IMF crisis, and the quiet heartbreaks and hard-won joys of family life.
Our Review
When Life Gives You Tangerines is a luminous, emotionally satisfying drama from the celebrated imagination of writer Lim Sang-choon—chronicler of the female heart and quiet witness to human endurance. After When the Camellia Blooms and Fight for My Way, Lim returns with her richest and most resonant work to date, a decades-spanning tale that is both intimate and epic.
Lim is back with marvelous clarity and insightful depth as she draws out Oh Ae-sun (IU and later, Moon So-ri) and Yang Gwan-sik (Park Bo-gum and later, Park Hae-joon) as they navigate the trials and travails of life and family, portraying a tale of hardiness and endurance without overidealizing it. She writes this epic saga of an ordinary family with extravagant yet surgical precision, skillfully calibrating dialogue and story to celebrate the litany of joys and hardships as they wash over this tiny family.
Throughout all 16 episodes, Lim keeps the narrative of this family’s adventures tight and close to her heart, and no contemporary K-drama writer out there is better than her when accumulating personal histories and infusing them with devastating insight. Combining sharp intellectual elan and raw nerve, Lim and director Kim Won-suk (My Mister, Signal) ensure that even the most minute detail of this show is perfectly positioned and absolutely riveting. The near-flawless performances of the entire cast, especially by IU, Moon So-ri, and Park Hae-joon, effortlessly elevate this drama to instant classic status. The show itself never fails to look stunning – from the bursting yellow fields of canola flowers to the rough ennui of Korea’s IMF crisis, this show’s budget has clearly been wisely spent into creating this tremendous piece of work.
Oh Ae-sun is the quintessential Lim protagonist – willful, rebellious, and in search of her own destiny – and is beautifully matched to the quintessential Lim male lead: the grounded and stubbornly loyal Yang Gwan-sik. Only a number of K-drama couples have had to fight so hard for themselves and their lives, but few are as free of self-pity or as confident in their love as these two. Over the next few decades, we witness Ae-sun and Gwan-sik grow into parenthood and learn the sacrifices inherent within, knitted together by a calm yet fierce love for each other. They will suffer tremendous losses but will also be granted effervescent and joyous moments together.
Lim’s writing is at her best when she casts aside all caricatures and pedestrian moral sensibilities – in fact, the characters in her dramas win when they are at their most human. She skillfully juxtaposes the fortunes of the main couple in various separate eras – the life before and after children; the life before and after poverty and back again, the life before and after every parent’s nightmare. Tangerines is as much a chronicle of a family as it is a testament to the triumph of love and the human spirit. This show pledges its allegiance to the human condition and is not afraid to wear its battered heart on its sleeve. In fact, there are no comical villains here, only difficult and abusive people who test the limits of decency and patience. Yet, even they get a shot at change at redemption, which is why dramas like Tangerines are rabidly optimistic and life-affirming.
Tangerines – like When the Camellia Blooms and Fight for My Way – is also propelled by Lim’s fondness for giving a voice to the usual voiceless women of South Korea. From fleshing out helpless wives, hopeless job-seekers, and taken-for-granted haenyeo divers, Lim brings them to life without being patronizing or simplistic. Her women are not just pitiable figures who are always aggrieved; in fact, they, too, can be complicit in their own oppression. But no matter how dreadful or sweet, Lim presents her females as human, ever interesting, always imperfect, and endlessly complex.
Another reason why Tangerines is so enjoyable is that her humanism is one of connection and community. The show reminds us that life is best lived with those who love us. Tangerines may oscillate between wrenching heartbreak and unshakeable hope, but it knows that love wins over it all and that our parents’ and guardians’ faith in us may just be enough to get us through the worst of days. If not for them, then maybe it's the kindness of strangers and seemingly callous neighbors that will see us through a rough night. Tangerines is joyously optimistic in the best sense of the word, and Lim is our favorite optimistic tragedian.
Like the fruit in the title—luscious, ripe, and humble—this show is generous in spirit and rich in detail. In the Jeju dialect, “when life gives you tangerines” means, “Thank you for your hard work.” And to the cast and crew behind this moving, masterful work: thank you. You’ve given us a drama that will endure—just like Ae-sun and Gwan-sik. Through its layered storytelling and grounded characters, the drama has shown what it means to love and to live a life not for yourself but for those you hold dear. With each episode, Tangerines reminds us that even the most ordinary lives are filled with meaning and that love—however imperfect—can be the most extraordinary force of all.
At Gwenchanoona, we don’t use the word masterpiece lightly. But this one easily is.
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