Frankly Speaking - Episode 11-12 (Final) Recap
The rom-com K-drama about a news anchor and a variety show writer wraps up its 12-episode run with a thud. While it’s not a disaster, much like the ominous Truck of Doom from last week’s cliffhanger, the series struggled to find its direction. Despite its uneven journey, the finale stays true to the rom-com formula, delivering a satisfying and cheerful conclusion.
The finale kicks off with heightened drama as it delves into the harrowing moments before the car accident, focusing on Ki-baek’s mother and the tense hours leading up to the fateful event. The montage slams into full emotional overload, like a Hallmark commercial on steroids, desperately pushing for Mother’s Day sales with a morbid twist. There’s no actual product placement, but the vibe screams “Show your mother you love her… before it’s too late.” For those hoping the screeching brakes and flashing headlights were just a dramatic misdirection, brace yourselves. Ki-baek’s family didn’t dodge the bullet; the dreaded Truck of Doom has struck hard.
Ki-baek’s father and brothers emerge from the wreckage with minor injuries, but the real heart-wrenching twist is Mom. In a selfless act of heroism, she swerved the car to shield her family from the worst of the crash. Now, she lies in a coma, bearing the full force of the impact. The doctor grimly advises Ki-baek to brace for the worst, but he stubbornly insists to his family that Mom will pull through. Except, plot twist! Ki-baek’s truth-telling switch is still stuck in the "on" position. So unless there's a secret override for heartfelt wishful thinking, it looks like his honesty has hit yet another snag. How he’ll navigate this tangled truth remains a mystery.
As the drama takes a breather, Ki-baek emerges as his family’s rock. With his father still reeling from the accident and his brothers lacking the drive to step up, Ki-baek dives into a whirlwind of variety show gigs. His tireless efforts aim to cover Mom’s mounting medical bills and keep the family’s head above water. The pressure is on, and Ki-baek is determined to shoulder it all. Ki-baek, desperate to keep his family afloat, boldly requests an advance on his next gig. Meanwhile, he remains silent as his agent covertly removes a promising news anchor position from his list of job offers. The stakes are high, and Ki-baek’s struggle to balance his family’s needs with his career takes a dramatic turn.
Ki-baek’s façade of cheerfulness is starting to crack. He insists to Woo-joo that “everything’s fine,” but his forced smile betrays a deep-seated unhappiness. Despite believing Ki-baek’s truth-telling mode is still in effect, Woo-joo can’t shake the feeling that something is seriously off. Her instincts, honed by experience, tell her that no one in his position could genuinely be “fine” amidst such turmoil.
Before Woo-joo can offer Ki-baek the comfort he desperately needs, she must first confront her own tangled emotions regarding her birth mother. Spurred by Bok-ja’s gentle push, Woo-joo finally picks up the phone and reaches out. They arrange a tense meeting at a park where Birth Mom reveals a heart-wrenching truth: she had sought out Woo-joo years after leaving her at the orphanage. But upon learning that Woo-joo had been adopted, she chose to observe her from a distance, watching her grow up through the shadows of regret and longing.
However, Birth Mom dances around the reason for her abandonment, leaving the true motive shrouded in ambiguity. The scar on her hand hints at a dark past, perhaps Woo-joo's father or step-father was abusive. Despite this, it seems the shadow of her abuser no longer looms over her life. She has chosen now, just as she prepares to move overseas with her son and his family, to reconnect with Woo-joo, revealing a blend of unresolved regrets and a desire for closure.
Woo-joo listens to Birth Mom’s revelation with a steely calmness, her face betraying nothing as she absorbs the news of a brother she never knew. As Birth Mom finishes her story, Woo-joo’s response is a composed, “Thank you.” The weight of her words is profound, if not for Birth Mom’s abandonment, Woo-joo would never have found Bok-ja, the family she cherishes, or become the person she is today. While Woo-joo’s calm acceptance of her mother’s story is understandable given her long journey to peace with the abandonment, the resolution feels almost too neat. Is her lingering emotion really just a faint echo of missing her birth mother? Or are the writers taking the easy way out because there’s no time left to delve deeper? The simplicity of her reaction leaves a lot to question about the depth of her true feelings.
With Woo-joo’s past finally put to rest, it’s time for her to step up and be Ki-baek’s rock. She’s learned to open up and offer support, but her newfound role is put to the test when she catches Ki-baek in a lie. The truth comes out, and he confesses that his ability to lie has mysteriously returned, leaving them both facing a new wave of challenges together.
Ki-baek's doctor, who seems to exist solely to dish out pseudoscientific explanations whenever Ki-baek’s truth-telling abilities shift with the plot, reveals that the return of his ability to lie is a protective measure. According to the doc, Ki-baek needs to weave a few fabrications to shield his struggling family while Mom remains in the hospital. (I’m inclined to believe him, if only because he’s easy on the eyes and I can’t be bothered to argue.)
Woo-joo, who’s been patiently waiting for Ki-baek to seek her comfort, finally confronts him for keeping his feelings bottled up. Overwhelmed, Ki-baek reaches out and pulls her into a heartfelt embrace, whispering that he loves her. Though her own feelings are clear in her voice, Woo-joo doesn’t confess outright. Instead, she admonishes him for hiding his emotions from those who care about him. They should be each other’s rock during tough times, she insists. (She needs to take her own advice!)
Just as expected, the moment arrives for the men in Ki-baek’s family to put aside their differences and unite once more. Dad, in a moment of misguided trust, handed over all of his merchandise to a dubious "friend" who promised to sell it. But now, Shady Friend has vanished with the goods and is dodging Dad’s desperate phone calls. With their financial stability on the line, the family must band together to clean up yet another mess.
Ki-baek and his family launch a daring raid on the warehouse to reclaim their stolen merchandise, only to be caught red-handed by Shady Friend and his henchmen. The situation quickly escalates into a chaotic showdown. In a surprising twist, Dad reveals his hidden past as a formidable boxer nicknamed Beethoven, because his punches left opponents deaf. He swiftly dispatches most of the goons, while Ki-baek and his brothers grapple ineffectually with a single henchman. Their childhood taekwondo lessons are proving to be less of an advantage than they’d hoped.
In the heat of the battle, the warehouse is suddenly stormed by the police, forcing Ki-baek and his family to duck and hide until the chaos subsides. As the adrenaline fades, old family rifts start to flare up. But what begins as a contentious argument turns into an unexpected moment of reconciliation when Dad, with surprising humility, admits his shortcomings and apologizes for his past mistakes. The revelation brings a newfound sense of clarity and healing to the fractured family. Dad’s long string of financial blunders has weighed heavily on the family, fueling a tumultuous home life that drove teenage Ki-baek to create a bravado-filled persona at school to escape his harsh reality. In a powerful moment of mutual reckoning, Ki-baek responds to his father’s heartfelt apology by confronting his own past mistakes. He admits to letting his insecurities fester, which strained his relationship with his family. This raw exchange of apologies and vulnerabilities paves the way for a dramatic shift in their dynamics, setting the stage for deeper connections and understanding.
Once more, the swift resolution of this family conflict feels a bit too neat for my taste. From my perspective, and perhaps it's my distinctly American view on family dynamics, it seems that adult Ki-baek has every right to distance himself from his family in search of the stability he never experienced in his childhood. His quest for a more stable life is not just understandable, but deeply justified.
Let's face it: if the actors portraying Mom and Dad weren’t so incredibly charismatic, it would be a lot tougher to overlook their constant blunders and their heavy reliance on Ki-baek’s income. Despite their good intentions, the family remains blissfully unaware of how to improve their situation, sticking to the status quo. This makes Ki-baek’s frustrations all the more relatable, especially given how quickly he forgives his family’s shortcomings.
Then again, when your mother is on the brink of death, it’s bound to make you reassess everything. Just as we’re bracing ourselves for the worst, the show teases us with a heart-stopping moment that seems to spell the end for Mom. But surprise, she wakes up from her coma, just in time to usher us through the final twists of our drama’s plot.
From this point, the drama dives into a classic K-drama finale, taking us on a whirlwind tour of each character and their relationships. We’re treated to a satisfying six-month time skip, offering a glimpse into their lives and hinting at the new paths they’ll embark on as the story wraps up. We kick off with Woo-joo and Bok-ja, who’s finally in a position to marry her long-time boyfriend now that his disapproving mother has passed away. But, instead of celebrating, Bok-ja appears uncertain. Despite Woo-joo’s heartfelt push for her to seize her newfound freedom and live for herself, Bok-ja reveals a shocking twist: her boyfriend hasn’t even hinted at marriage. The plot thickens as the true test of their relationship begins. Okay, fine, his mom just passed away, but even after a six-month time skip, Bok-ja’s still not engaged. Determined to take matters into her own hands, she’s decided to propose herself. While I’m all for a woman taking charge, I can’t help but share a sliver of skepticism alongside Bok-ja and Woo-joo’s optimism. Is this bold move the start of something extraordinary, or a risk she might regret?
A man in his 40s still hiding behind his mother’s memory to avoid marriage is a serious red flag, especially since he kept dodging the topic even six months after her death. While Bok-ja’s bravery in proposing is commendable, the drama leaves us hanging with no glimpse of the outcome, did he say yes, or did he bolt? The suspense over their future adds an edge to this unresolved chapter.
Shifting focus to a more captivating side couple, we dive into Yeon and Eon-baek’s romance, which hit a snag when Yeon realized she’d been neglecting her son, Gu-won. Unwilling to compete with a new man for his mother’s attention, Gu-won put his foot down, and Yeon, ever the devoted mother, chose to prioritize him. The tension between family and love adds a compelling twist to their journey.
Once Gu-won and his mom have their fill of heartwarming mother-son moments, Gu-won finds himself longing for the days of neighborhood adventures and adult-free freedom. Determined to reunite his mother with her romance, Gu-won hatches a clever plan to lure Eon-baek to Bok-ja’s salon while Yeon is getting her hair done. Eon-baek, caught off guard but thrilled, arrives with a mix of eager anticipation and endearing shyness, making for a heart-meltingly sweet scene as he reconnects with Yeon.
I'm thrilled to share that Eon-baek and Yeon are still thriving post-time jump. Eon-baek and Gu-won have become the ultimate dynamic duo, bonding over their shared maturity level and Eon-baek's unique belief in Gu-won’s alleged superpower. (Seriously, who else found the mind-reading subplot a bit out there?) Professionally, things are looking up for Eon-baek as well, with his gym booming and Dad joining the team to teach boxing classes.
For our OTP, life is on an upward trajectory—both as a couple and in their careers. Woo-joo is riding high with a fresh variety show concept that has her former writing team so excited they’re ready to leave the successful season two of Couple’s Paradise behind to join her new venture. Their future looks as promising as ever, both professionally and personally. Initially, Woo-joo resists their enthusiasm, fearing they’d be sacrificing their stable incomes for a venture that’s still on the launch pad. But when her boss gives the project the green light, her excitement is unstoppable. She eagerly welcomes Yeon, Ha-young, and the rookies aboard, ready to embark on this thrilling new journey together.
Ki-baek is riding high on his own wave of success. Although his agent finally reveals the long-hidden news anchor offer, he initially turns it down, insisting to Ji-hoo that he no longer needs such a role to find truth or success. Yet, in a twist that’s true to his unique style, six months later, Ki-baek has embraced the role of a news anchor, though not in the conventional sense. Now, he’s renowned for his offbeat charm, even coaxing his nervous guests to unwind with a drink on live TV.
DramaZen's Opinion
As most rom-coms do, this one wraps up with a proposal and an exchange of couple rings, an iconic moment meant to leave us swooning. Yet, by the time we hit this climax, I was eagerly awaiting the credits. The final hour of Frankly Speaking felt like a drawn-out lecture rather than a satisfying conclusion. It seemed determined to hammer home its lessons, leaving me wondering if the show underestimated my capacity to grasp its morals without constant reinforcement.
We get it, true happiness is about embracing flaws, loving oneself, and being open with loved ones. But did we really need these lessons dumbed down to a children’s book level and served up through Gu-won’s (admittedly adorable) school play? The message might be important, but did it really need to be spoon-fed to us in such an oversimplified way? It’s hard not to wonder if the writers felt compelled to over-explain the story’s morals because they didn’t fully grasp them themselves until halfway through the drama. With how inconsistent they’ve been with the rules of Ki-baek’s truth-telling ability, this theory doesn’t seem too far-fetched.
Despite my mixed feelings about the finale, there was one standout element in Frankly Speaking: Jung-heon’s remarkable character growth. His journey, particularly in the final episodes, shines as a masterclass in storytelling. The writers skillfully reveal his emotional evolution through his actions and environment, avoiding heavy-handed voiceovers and clichéd dialogues, and instead immersing us in a compelling and nuanced portrayal. Jung-heon began as the quintessential egotistical TV star, but as the drama unfolded, we peeled back his glitzy facade to reveal a man burdened by deep loneliness. Behind the glittering exterior lay a heart as empty and isolated as the spare room he kept locked away in his apartment, a poignant symbol of the emotional void he struggled to hide.
In the finale, Jung-heon hits a dramatic turning point as he confronts the harsh truth about his unsustainable lifestyle and relentless work ethic. Overwhelmed by burnout, depression, and panic attacks, he reaches a breaking point that drives him to flee from his mounting problems and escape the world he once dominated. One of the most riveting scenes in the drama unfolds when Jung-heon finally opens the door to his empty spare room, a powerful symbol of the emotional void he’s hidden from the world. Allowing Ki-baek inside this private sanctuary marks a significant moment in Jung-heon’s healing journey. It’s a dramatic, intimate revelation of his vulnerability, offering a glimpse into the raw, unguarded side of him that’s been concealed since their teenage years.
Overall, I’d give Frankly Speaking a lukewarm “meh.” While it had its share of standout moments, both hilarious and heartfelt, these fleeting highlights can't salvage a drama that lacks cohesive storytelling. The isolated gems are enjoyable in the moment, but without a strong narrative thread to bind them, the drama falls short of leaving a lasting impression.
Mark my words: ten years from now, someone will be frantically typing into a “Name that Drama” forum, trying to remember the title of the show where the first and second male leads don Aladdin and his magic carpet costumes. Here’s hoping that Frankly Speaking is still fresh in our minds, though given my spotty memory, I have a feeling this will be a drama I easily forget as time goes by!