[KD] Miss Ripley: Episode 1

We open on an idyllic image of our heroine, JANG MIRI (Lee Da-hae).
It’s sometime in the undefined future, and two men think back on her
fondly, though their reminiscences carry a hint of foreboding in the way
they speak of her in the past tense, as though in memoriam.
The younger man thinks, “I met her on one spring day. I knew it at
first glance — this woman with the eyes that resembled those of my long
departed mother. Her smiling face was beautiful.”
The older man thinks, “I had grown weary of the world — and that
woman taught me how to live. She was like my heart. I loved her.”
Just as the younger man also thinks, “I truly loved her.” These men are our two leads; we’ll get to their intros in a bit.

Jumping back in time to the here and now, we find Miri in Fukuoka’s
red-light district, Nakasu, working as a bar hostess and drinking with
lecherous men for money. The overbearing score hammers home her misery;
Miri hates the work but is basically indentured to her pimp/loan shark,
Hirayama, and bitterly longs to escape this life and return to Korea.
Though it’s her home country, she’d been adopted to Japan as a child;
alas, her adoptive father has sunk the family by squandering all his
money on all manner of vices. Miri’s on the hook for Dad’s debt before
she’ll be let go, a goal that seems a pretty improbable scenario at this
juncture.

In Korea, managing director JANG MYUNG-HOON (Kim Seung-woo)
arrives in one of the suites at his Hotel A to address a problem. (Gah,
this drama’s music is all over the place, one moment heartbroken
tragedy, the next something out of a jaunty pastorale. It’s completely
distracting.)
In the room: One hysterical woman screaming about “that bastard,” two
empty room service plates, shattered glass. We can do the math on that
one. Myung-hoon politely declines to interfere in guest matters and
tells his staff to do as she pleases, and to take care of her injuries
from the glass. But when her hysteria causes problems with her
breathing, Myung-hoon steps in to swiftly administer CPR — ’cause,
wouldn’tcha know, the hotel director also happens to have a medical
background. (His character description says that he graduated from
medical school, but due to his family’s dire financial straits, he opted
to work in the hotel industry instead. Yeah…I’m not so sure on the
logic of that one, but I guess it worked out for him.)

A pressing concern lands on Myung-hoon’s desk, as reported by
Director Kang of his planning team: one of their key Japanese employees
has quit and returned to her homeland, leaving them in the lurch for the
upcoming arrival of a VIP, Nakamura. The employee was the liaison for
the business tycoon, as she speaks the distinctive Hakata dialect of the
man’s native Fukuoka. Her absence comes at a crucial time for
Myung-hoon’s hotel, which is trying to pull ahead of its rival, Mondo
Resort.
We can all spot the setup coming a mile away, can’t we? But let’s see how we get there:

Back in Fukuoka, Miri slips out of a seedy building with a long piece
of rope, which she prepares as a fuse. The end goes into a pile of
(explosive?) powder, and a lit cigarette provides the time-delayed
spark.
With that, she goes in to speak with pimp Hirayama, tossing him a
pile of cash in exchange for her loan papers and passport: her ticket to
freedom. But he’s not about to let her go so easily, and starts to
force himself on her. To buy herself some time, Miri offers to undress
herself, all the while silently begging the fuse to ignite soon.
(Another touching scene ruined by melodramatic music, ugh. I sort of want to shoot the music director.)

Just in the nick of time, her homemade bomb goes off and provides the
distraction she needs to grab her documents and run. Hirayama runs
through the streets after her, but she’s able to gain enough of a head
start to make it safely to the train station, where a friend waits with
her packed bag.
Miri grabs her luggage and makes it onboard with not a second to
spare, as Hirayama arrives at the station just moments too late to join
her inside the car. Through the window, he screams at her while she
gives him what I suspect will become her her trademark cry-smile.

Myung-hoon is discomfited at the appearance of a rival at Hotel A — LEE HWA (Choi Myung-gil)
is Mondo Resort’s vice president, who has been called by Myung-hoon’s
father-in-law, the president of this hotel. Myung-hoon and Lee Hwa act
as if they are barely acquainted, but there’s a tension in the air that
suggests otherwise.
She listens with interest as Myung-hoon reports his efforts to find a
replacement liaison for Nakamura’s visit, smirking when President Lee
suggests that he consider using one of Mondo’s employees. She presents
the offer politely, but Myung-hoon understands the threat when she says
she already has an employee who has taken care of Nakamura on previous
visits.

They have a polite clash of words over their opinions of how hotels
should be run, and Myung-hoon assures his father-in-law that he’s on top
of the situation. Although they’re looking for a female liaison, in a
worst-case scenario he’s prepared to attend to Nakamura personally,
although that raises other concerns for the president, who points out
that complications can accompany the upgrading of their service from
VVIP (very very important person) to RVIP (royal very important person).
The redundancy of this nomenclature apparently eludes them all.

While on her train ride away from hell, Miri sees a girl wearing a
necklace that flashes her back to a similar one from her own childhood.
We see that as a child, she’d been abandoned by her mother, who had
ignored her begging and crying and walked out on the family. Not long
after, her father had died, and she had been sent to live at an
orphanage.
There was one girl who’d made friendly overtures, but she’d rebuffed
them, saying fiercely, “I still have a mother. I’m not an orphan.” Some
other girls at school had picked on her and made snide comments about
her being an orphan, and she’d slapped the ringleader out of anger —
just as a teacher had walked in and told her, “This is why people insult
you for being an orphan!” Uh, are you sure it’s not ’cause they’re
assholes?

Miri had been punished for her outburst, crying for her mother
throughout it. (Seriously, every time the PIANO OF TRAGEDY plays, I want
to laugh instead of cry. It’s a little ridiculous.)
Present-day Miri wakes up crying from the memory, and finds that her
plane has landed. On the one hand, she’s here in Korea at long last, but
on the other, the customs officer looks at her papers suspiciously and
says pointedly that she’d better not have any ideas of staying in Korea
illegally without a visa. She’s only allowed to stay for a short time as
a visitor, after which point she’ll be breaking the law.

So when she makes her way outside the terminal, she stands there lost, with nowhere to go.
Meanwhile, there’s our other leading man, SONG YOO-HYUN (Park Yoo-chun),
who is also known by his Japanese name Yutaka. Right off the bat we see
evidence of his warm, caring personality as he lands in Seoul and helps
a fellow traveler — he’s friendly! he’s good with kids! — and then
heads straight to his gosiwon.
(A gosiwon is a boardinghouse often inhabited by students. They’re
respectable establishments, but because of their cheap rent and
bare-bones facilities, it isn’t the most comfortable arrangement.)

It’s therefore curious that Yoo-hyun would opt to bunk here, since he
also happens to be the heir to Mondo Resort. He’s chosen to live in
ordinary surroundings to learn more of the world outside his chaebol
bubble, and seems to consider this grand experiment both enlightening
and fun. (It’s a well-meaning sentiment, but also a luxury that can be
enjoyed only by the privileged.) Yoo-hyun checks in with his mother and
promises to visit his father in the hospital soon.
Miri arrives at the gosiwon to take a room, and is following the
manager when Yoo-hyun bursts out of his room and bumps into her,
knocking her into a tray holding someone’s leftover ramen.

At once apologetic — and instantly smitten, to boot — Yoo-hyun
attempts to brush the food from her jacket. On edge, Miri bursts out in
Japanese, and since he’s also prone to speaking in Japanese first before
remembering he’s in Korea now, he asks with interest if she’s from
there. (She ignores this.) He offers to clean her jacket and to help her
with anything she needs, which she also ignores with an irritated roll
of the eyes.
The next day, Miri gets busy working cheap part-time jobs while
hunting for more permanent work. She finds this a more difficult
prospect than first supposed, with many interviewers dismissing her out
of hand with one look at her resumé, since she’s a mere high school
graduate. Finding an office job requires a college degree at minimum,
and she’s up against people with far more experience and better
qualifications.

She’s therefore dropped from all her interviews in the first round,
and trudges home in gloom. She feels the pressure of the ticking clock,
because it’s not merely a job that she needs, but the kind of regular
employment that’ll allow her to apply for a work visa — and in order to
do that legally, she needs to be hired asap, before her visitor’s visa
expires.
That night, Yoo-hyun runs into her at the neighborhood convenience
store and tries to engage her again with some small talk and a shy
smile. It’s kind of adorable that he takes the
aw-shucks-I’m-just-a-normal-guy approach, commenting that he’s also here
to buy a few things, “But it’s kind of expensive so I couldn’t buy
much.” Is that how you think normal people talk, announcing that they’re
poor? I foresee problems in your future.

Miri doesn’t spare him a second glance, since she has much weightier
concerns than flirting with the sweet boy next door. He follows her home
anyway, trying to draw her into conversation. (He’s unsuccessful.)
The Nakamura situation’s growing more pressing, as Myung-hoon has
been unable to find anyone who can speak Hakata dialect. At stake is the
loss (or gain) of income in the trillions of won and therefore the
future of the hotel , and Myung-hoon understands that this is also
something of a test — that if they cannot produce an adequate liaison,
Nakamura may decide that his hotel would be unable to meet future needs
as well. Worse yet, he has just seen Lee Hwa chatting up Nakamura,
greasing the wheels for her Mondo Resort.

And yet, his day’s about to get even worse. He drops in on his sunbae
who works in customer service to ask a favor — he’s desperate to find
anyone on his roster who might know Hakata dialect. On his way out of
that meeting, he comes face to face with Miri, who has arrived for yet
another interview; they pass right by each other and continue on their
way.
Myung-hoon sees the posters hanging in the building promoting the piano concert of his wife, LEE GWI-YEON (Hwang Ji-hyun), and drops by her practice studio to see her.

There, he finds her frolicking on the floor with her lover. When she
looks up to see him staring at her in shock, she doesn’t so much as bat
an eyelash and instead shoots him a challenging look.
Gwi-yeon tells her husband coolly that she’ll have divorce papers
drawn up. Her attitude is detached, but the reason for her behavior
seems clear enough when she accuses him of being a slave to her father
more than a husband to her. In fact, he was so busy working for her
father that he didn’t notice she was having an affair.

When Myung-hoon raises his voice, she remarks, “Now that you’re angry, you seem like a real person.”
Meanwhile, Miri finds herself thoroughly ignored throughout the
interview, and gets up to leave in disappointment at the end of it. The
interviewer holds her back, though, which gives her momentary hope —
until he locks the door and his voice shifts to a predatory tone.

He points out that she’s an orphan, she’s got no background, she’s on
a temporary visa, and she lives in a gosiwon. As he starts to leer, the
implication is clear: Make me happy, or I’ll make life difficult for
you.
He wastes no time feeling her up, happy to exploit her circumstances
for his own gratification. Miri fights back, startling him with the
fierceness of her response as she gains the upper hand, twisting his arm
behind his back. She curses at him and demands, “So what? Does that
mean you can act like this, you bastard?!”
The sounds of the disturbance carry through and bring security guards
to the door, and when they burst in, they see Miri holding him
forcefully and yelling.

The man is quick to turn the situation around to cover his ass,
accusing her of trying to seduce him into a job, then going batshit
crazy on him. He’s so smooth with the transition that he sounds
credible, while she’s so infuriated and worked up that she looks like
the unhinged one.
In a nice (distorted) echo of the earlier scene at the elevator, now
both Myung-hoon and Miri leave the building in a much different frame of
mind, devastated at this latest turn of events.

Now, time to meet MOON HEE-JOO (Kang Hye-jung), who
arrives at the Japan Cultural Center for an interview. She’s cheerful
and energetic, and a little scattered as she arrives to interview for an
architecture design contest put on by a Korea-Japan cultural exchange.
She studied at Tokyo University, and is the daughter to a famous,
now-deceased architect who designed Hotel A. (The strings of
coincidence, can you see them?)
Hee-joo briefly mentions spending some time at an orphanage as a
child, and explains wanting to finish her father’s incomplete designs.
Oh, and she bursts out into Japanese in moments of frustration, having
learned it when she lived in Hakata… (Hey, may as well cram as many
coincidences into the story at once, while we’re at it?)

Yoo-hyun also arrives at the Cultural Center to put in an application
for a change of nationality, only to be told he’s come to the wrong
office. Here we learn that he was born in Japan to a Japanese mother and
Korean father, which seems incongruous with his family relationship as
we’ve seen it thus far. Lee Hwa doesn’t appear to be Japanese, and
neither does she live in Japan, so I’m guessing more birth secrets in
the pipeline.
Yoo-hyun briefly glances over and sees Hee-joo on his way out, setting the stage for their future meeting.

Miri leaves the building in a state of shock, and walks dully through
the rain. She’s almost hit by Myung-hoon, who’s driving and just about
to get the word from his staff that they’ve found a potential prospect
from the Japan Cultural Center.
He doesn’t catch that part, though, because of the almost-collision
and rushes out to check on the pedestrian. Miri glares at him and
mutters angrily in Japanese. As we know, not only does Myung-hoon
understand, but he’s familiar with Hakata dialect, and he follows her to
the train station to ask her to repeat herself.

Miri’s just been abused by one opportunistic male, however, and
doesn’t look too favorably on the insistent stranger who keeps following
her. He cuts to the chase and tells her he needs a woman under the age
of 35 who speaks Hakata dialect, preferably with a pleasant appearance.
Coupled with his urgent tone and uncommonly bold approach, this
hardly sounds respectable, and Miri laughs sarcastically: “I don’t know
if my looks are pleasant, but my personality isn’t.” Plus, she hardly
knows the guy — surely he can’t just expect her to follow along?

Fair enough: Myung-hoon introduces himself properly this time, and
they relocate to his office to discuss the matter further. He explains
the visit they’re expecting in two days, and the need for a VVIP
liaison. Miri understands that he’s proposing a temporary job
arrangement, and replies flatly that she’s unable to take it. She’s
honest about her situation, saying that she’s here on a limited
timetable and needs to find a job that’ll allow her to get a work visa.
If she can’t, she’ll be deported.
Myung-hoon mulls this over, and Miri reads his expression,
understanding that he can’t help. With resignation, she says, “I
understand. You met me on the street and have nobody’s recommendation or
guarantee — even if I said I graduated from Tokyo University, it would
be impossible.”
She excuses herself, just as Myung-hoon asks with interest, “Did you
come out of Tokyo University?” Miri returns, “Would that change
anything? I bet it wouldn’t.”
She starts to leave again — only to have Myung-hoon stop her.