Punghyanggo (DdeunDdeun)
Kim Rieun: It’s become a rarity in today’s world that you truly feel like a stranger when traveling. Google Maps, translation apps, and package tours that compress the experience down to just what the most typical traveler’s looking for let us traverse any place on the globe as if we were already familiar with it. But Punghyanggo turns back the clock on that experience by implementing just one rule: no apps allowed. With that restriction in place, entertainers Yoo Jae-seok, Jee Seokjin, and Yang Se Chan, along with actor Hwang Jung-min, are dropped in Vietnam, utterly unfamiliar with their surroundings. The film crew provides the stars with a cheat-sheet-like guidebook—compiled from in-the-field research, travel guides, and blog reviews—to improve their journey, but the four men are left nearly paralyzed as their plans keep falling apart as enticing new choices and unanticipated variables continually pop up. Even when a Vietnamese hotel staff member recognizes Jee for his role on Running Man and greets him excitedly, the two must still make an effort to overcome the language barrier. Though the stars seek to enjoy the freedom of traveling on a whim wherever the wind takes them, as the show’s Korean title alludes to, the four are bound by the agreed-upon concept of the show, meaning they’re obligated to be onscreen with each other at all times. But what they discover after all the quibbling and uncertainty is a new world in each other. Yoo, who as the nation’s foremost host is used to leading TV shows along, reminds everyone not to panic when they’re asked to present a mobile QR code at the airport, only for Jee to tease him in an effort to calm him down, after which Yoo admits he was actually nervous himself, and he agrees to let down his habitual guard. Late one night in a cafe, Jee complains that he feels hungry, prompting the stars to find out more about each other’s eating habits, while Hwang, never without the guidebook by his side, always takes special note of the efforts others are making. In another scene, where their differing opinions land them at an impasse, Yang suggests a game of rock paper scissors so they can take turns being the leader, and everyone’s quickly on board. Yoo even pays Yang a compliment for being so mature about navigating such situations with prudence, despite being the youngest in the group. On a trip where even simple tasks like hailing a taxi or finding where they’re headed can lead to chaos, the four of them learn to appreciate the refreshing taste of a cold cup of iced coffee after wandering under the hot sun, as well as the kindness of locals. Altogether, Punghyanggo instills a renewed gratitude for the small but essential things that get lost out of sight when you can find out every little thing about the world without ever leaving your room. All it takes to unlock that forgotten world is one little plot twist.

YOUNHA - “Point Nemo”
Kim Doheon (music critic): The repackaged single “Point Nemo” off YOUNHA’s seventh studio album, GROWTH THEORY, draws inspiration from Earth’s oceanic pole of inaccessibility, the spacecraft cemetery where decommissioned satellites plummet to their final resting place. Following her previous album, END THEORY, which depicted the silent universe, her latest looks out over the vast ocean, opening with “Mangrove tree,” then setting off on a fantastical adventure mirroring universal life experiences, using aquatic life as a metaphor in “Sunfish” and borrowing scientific terms from topography, physics, and astronomy in songs like “Coriolis force” and “Curse for the rocket formula.” The journey that one girl and a sunfish set out on comes to an end at Point Nemo, the satellite graveyard submerged in the sea.

The image of an artificial satellite that once diligently orbited a blue marble through the silence of space sinking to a final, deep resting place in the most remote waters on Earth is as tragic as it is beautiful. It’s a look back on a life that was full of disappointment and loneliness but never regret in a vacuum where there’s “just you and me, the sky, the sea.” YOUNHA transforms the deep sea of death into an ocean of life, channeling streams of water toward the vast macrocosm of the universe. With crisp guitar riffs and refreshingly poignant vocals, the singer banishes the thought of having any lingering regrets to a deep watery tomb. She offers consolation for the past, saying certain choices were the right answer at the time, and acknowledging the effort in the process. She also makes a promise—to treasure completely every emotion, every profound feeling, and every passionate love we experience. Because it’s how we’ll save each other.

As I listened to Han Kang give her acceptance speech for the Nobel Prize in Literature, and she asserted that the dead save the living and that it’s the past that aids the present, I thought of “Point Nemo.” And as I started to feel shaken at the chaotic close to this year, I put the song on repeat. In these closing days of 2024, YOUNHA said her album echoes the fact that, the older she gets, the more she wants to be a better person. We have to help each other. Because that’s how we can save each other.

A Magical Girl Retires by Park Seolyeon
Kim Boksung (writer): Magical girls are the stuff of childhood dreams (and an archetype we’ve talked about before). But what happens when you grow up and life isn’t so magical after all? A Magical Girl Retires by Park Seolyeon turns a well-trodden trope on its head with a nameless protagonist who could be anyone picking up the book.

Recently translated into English—another on the impressive resume belonging to Anton Hur—the story begins with a Millennial (borderline Gen Z) woman drowning in post-COVID debt and hoping to drown literally until she’s saved by a seasoned magical girl in white. From here, our protagonist becomes a magical girl herself, but with everything from job fairs to credit cards to fight climate change, being a magical girl isn’t like in the cartoons—it’s a job, and an exhausting one that leaves her feeling no less insecure.

The hero learns that those who become magical girls are those who most need saving, and considering that they’re unionized and who the villain is (no spoilers), it’s easy to see the book as a comment on how it’s up to all of us to solve big problems when the systems in place refuse to. While the ending is a bit abrupt, the recently released sequel means there’s more to the story. It’s proof that a little bit of magic—and a lot of perseverance—can go a long way.