K-Drama Rewind, The Innocent Man: Song Joong-ki’s tragic era of moody anti-heroes in a messy and riveting melodrama

To quote the Gen Z Twitter lingo, The Innocent Man walked so that Vincenzo could fly. 

Long before he became the merciless Korean-Italian mafia consigliere who erased lives in both bloodless and bloodied ways, Song Joong-ki starred in The Innocent Man (also known as Nice Guy), a 2012 melodrama that first tethered him to the brooding anti-hero archetype. He perfected that image so well over the years that even his romantic lead in Descendants of the Sun (2016) occasionally carried hints of those hardened, deadpan stares.

In the Innocent Man, Joong-ki’s Maru doesn’t immediately begin on that note, however.  A generally selfless, good-hearted fellow, he is deeply in love with Park Si-yeon’s Jae-hee, is a brilliant medical student who is just about managing to eke out a meagre livelihood for himself and his sister. It’s not an ideal life, but he can make it work, or so it seems. The first episode pushes you into the melodrama itself (you can thank the music), as Maru choosing to sacrifice himself for a jail sentence to save a frenzied Jae-hee from suspicion of murder, while his ill sister repeatedly calls for him at home. The sacrifice is there yes, as is the love, but what is the point of it all, he is driven to wonder later, as he discovers later that she is married to a rich businessman, who has a rebellious, bitter, daughter about her age, Seo Eun-gi (Moon Chae-won). 

And so, begins the tale of an anti-hero, or perhaps even a downright villain as he would like everyone to believe. The innocence and passion evaporates, and he has just a one-track mind: To break the family, by pretending to fall in love with Eun-gi. But pretences can only go so far, as somewhere between helping him with his sister, mother, or being saved as she almost drives off a cliff, a softness grows, unwillingly perhaps. He is determined to carry through his plans of revenge, but here’s the thing, he is inherently the ‘nice guy’ as the alternative title insists too. 

And through all his hatred, resentment and fury, he cannot actually go through putting someone through torment and torture, and so, after Eun-gi suffers a car accident, he finds himself walking the path of redemption—unable to stay, unwilling to leave.  The path of redemption never did run smooth, and Maru’s own trajectory appears filled with hot metal. Till the last episode, which goes completely off the rails, Joong-ki is compelling as the broken, seething Maru, reluctantly piecing himself together and trying to heal with Eun-gi. His efforts to push her away are as futile as his first sacrifice, and he finally succumbs to his own emotions.  And, he finally helps to rebuild her own life professionally, too. However, the ending seems to fall victim to lazy, slipshod choices that undermine a season’s worth of build-up, emotional twists, and layered tension. 

There’s an unnecessary stabbing that takes place, a quick resolution and a sudden desperation to prove to the audience that yes, Maru is all about redemption and sacrifice. But we knew that, didn’t we? Why have another sacrificial, contrived scene of a man, trying to hide his pain and stabbed wounds, worse, the woman doesn’t seem to know he is bleeding profusely?

Sigh. 

Nevertheless, what keeps you invested is the rawness of the acting—the cast says enough through words, silences, looks, and loaded glances. This is especially true in the final exchanges between Maru and his first love, Jae-hee, whose arc is both compelling and satisfyingly wrapped up. The same, unfortunately, can’t be said for Eun-gi, who inexplicably gives up her entire company to open a small countryside shop. Not that anyone’s rooting for corporate success, but after hearing about that company nonstop for 19 episodes, you’d expect at least some kind of payoff.

All said and done, The Innocent Man serves some strong melodrama and romance, you might just need some patience at times to make it through.