Directed by A Shoulder to Cry On’s Song Soo-rim, Jazz for Two is the latest BL drama to yank mercilessly at our heartstrings. Starring Ji Ho-geun as the brooding Han Tae-yi and Kim Jin-kwon as Yoon Se-heon – who’s fresh meat to everyone on campus at Wooyeon Arts School – the drama wastes no time in interweaving the fates of the two boys who at first glance seem to have nothing in common. And when we learn they’re both really into jazz (which, in this universe, is martian levels of obscure), the story basically writes itself. 

Ji Ho-geun is fantastic at portraying Tae-yi’s reserved emotions that burst out when he’s pushed over the edge. A character like his – closed off in an attempt to shield himself from the hurt he’s experienced in the past – is one all too real, and in desperate need of a tender counterpart to soothe those wounds. So Seheon chirpily waltzes into his life, and the chemistry between the two actors fits like puzzle pieces.

OMEGA X’s Hangyeom makes his acting debut as the blueberry-headed Doyoon, a charismatic friend to all. He’s the butt of a lot of the show’s comic relief, but experiences his own development as we get to know the character more, and is played like a natural by Hangyeom. Fans of the boy group and A Shoulder to Cry On will also have been delighted when Da-yeol and Taehyun (Jaehan and Yechan of OMEGA X) made a cameo in the series’ opening episode, confirming that the stories occur in the same universe.

Jazz for Two’s beauty is in its character building. Characters are not as stereotypical as they first let on, with Seheon, though naive and delicate, standing up for himself when cornered (which, unsurprisingly, happens on many occasions). He’s refreshingly confrontational, fighting off the irritating miscommunication drama trope with a bat. It also doesn’t punish you for being invested; it would serve well as an entry point for those new to BL and other LGBTQIA+ dramas. Although the characters are all forgiven a bit too much under the soft K-drama cloak for borderline assaulting each other at times. There’s got to be a bit of leeway given for K-dramas, where wrist grabbings and possessive behaviour are commonplace ‘romantic’ gestures. 

The series has its quirks that don’t feel out of place. The occasional ridiculous daydream has its spotlight, and it’s paced well for a short series. Why is Jazz so strictly forbidden by Seheon’s dad? We’re not quite sure. The show doesn’t provide much of an answer either, besides a vague ‘it’s not as serious as classical music’. Still, it’s the springboard for Tae-yi and Se-heon’s conflict-turned-relationship to hit it off. The “haunted” piano practice room is the sun the story orbits around in its early days. For Tae-Yi, it’s a bittersweet memory of his dead brother. For Seheon, it’s his first oasis in an overwhelming environment. So when the group no longer has this familiar place to convene, they’re moved to evolve.

Jazz is, rightfully so, the soul of the show. And for a series about music the score is stunning. A gentle guitar picking feels like a lullaby, and an upbeat electronic pulse swells up our emotions to align with the characters. The music performances were made sure to be done right, particularly in the leading four boys’ final performance. In the end, we’re left with a satisfying resolution to nearly every character’s problems as they fix one another, just like the now-completed score left behind by its late composer.

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Written by Maddie Armstrong

_{View of the Arts is an online publication that chiefly deals with films, music, and art, with an emphasis on the Asian entertainment industry. We are hoping our audience will grow with us as we begin to explore new platforms such as K-pop / K-music, and Asian music in general, and continue to dive into the talented and ever-growing scene of film, music, and arts, worldwide.}