“TXT’s Parenting Diary” (Wavve, KOCOWA)
Oh Minji: As the old saying goes, it takes a village to raise a child. In the case of “TXT’s Parenting Diary” from streaming service Wavve, it takes a K-pop group. Yu Jun’s just 14 months old and hasn’t even said his first word yet, but TOMORROW X TOGETHER’s out of their depth in every aspect of childcare, from holding the baby to changing his diapers, getting him dressed, and putting him to sleep. Nobody’s particularly surprised that the boys’ very first attempt at parenting is plagued by a series of failures—logic and theory alone won’t help you understand what makes a baby tick. From the second they meet, Yu Jun’s off and running nonstop, and he refuses to sleep even when it’s time for bed. He shows little interest in playing in the sand even after the group worked so hard to set everything up. With no vocabulary to speak of, all he can do when he’s upset is make a fuss. And with no way to know why he’s crying, there’s no way to know how to comfort him either.

Five grown men are no match for one 14-month-old. The group barely has time to sit down for a meal, shoveling some food in before collapsing on the floor for a quick nap anywhere they can squeeze one in. But even in the middle of all that chaos, they slowly get a handle on things. When they start out, they can’t even tell the front of the baby’s shirt from the back, but with time, they learn to divide up tasks on the fly and get Yu Jun changed before he can break into sobs. And where they once dreaded his tears, they come around to realizing that “he’ll be okay once he finishes crying.”

“He just wanted to cry,” SOOBIN finally says. “We need to get used to it.” And with that, “TXT’s Parenting Diary” follows TOMORROW X TOGETHER, idols of seven years who can handle just about anything except a baby, as they get to know 14-month-old Yu Jun, for whom the whole world remains a fascinating mystery. The show becomes a day-to-day diary of how the group learns to take care of a child on the fly.

“Shibuya Free Fall” (Chiaki Mayumura, “AMPLAND PLAN”)
Hwang Sunup (music critic): “I thought she was funny, and it turns out she is.” That’s the image that’s always followed singer Chiaki Mayumura around. There’s the impromptu songs she conjures up on the spot from the names of people in the crowd and their stories, and the live performances that take listeners on such an emotional rollercoaster that they’ve been called “mind-bending.” She openly admits she wants to hurry up and make it big so she can quit trying to go viral on social media, moving seamlessly between the fantasy of the stage and the logistics of the industry. She’s seen as something of a novelty, but behind all the commotion is the quiet competence of a DIY musician who writes most of her music herself. With a clear artistic vision that allows her to take wildly different styles and make them her own, and a set of pipes that never fails to impress critics, it begs the question—why hasn’t Chiaki Mayumura blown up yet? It’s just that, in an era where polished presentation and meticulous strategy have become the norm, her relative lack of filter has kept her slightly out of step.

Her seventh album, “Ufufu”—released while she was recovering from vocal cord cyst surgery in 2024—marked a period of expansion for the singer, refining her unique pop music formula. Now, she’s going all in. As noted in an interview, when making her latest album, she figured if this one didn’t sell, then when would her music ever? The result is an all-out effort to reach more ears with a sound that plays within and outside the bounds of her personal beliefs. There’s the Heisei-era-tinged synthpop of “Shibuya Free Fall.” There’s the Japanese version of “EVERY DAY,” originally written as a solo song for a member of a K-pop boy group and therefore from a male perspective, whose lyrics pushed Mayumura’s personal sense somewhere new. And there’s “Kienai,” a gently melodic track with strings written to express herself to the fullest. Together, the tracks channel her hunger for stardom through music that’s grown more assured than ever.

Hers is the unfinished story of a genius yet to find her big break—one who’s proven her potential two years running at South by Southwest, each time to enthusiastic applause. She talks about her true ambitions, like making it onto the “NHK Kōhaku Uta Gassen (Red & White Year-End Song Festival)” stage, like she’s joking, then backs them up with music so good, you have to take the joke seriously. Isn’t that enough to expect to see a happy ending in the future? Now that she’s finally no stranger to the weight of the crown, we’ll just have to wait and see what she grumbles about next.

“Sorrow and Bliss” (Meg Mason)
Kim Boksung (writer): Martha just turned 40. She sees her life falling apart, she knows she has a hand in it, but she feels powerless to stop the downfall. Faced with Martha’s apparently self-centered antics and biting comments, the people in her life distance themselves from her one by one, including her husband. Martha needs supportive people more than ever, but she can’t help but push them away. She’s been this way since she was a teenager, but doctors are at a loss to name the issue. She moves back in with her difficult family. As her mental state continues to unravel, so does the story. 

“Sorrow and Bliss” by Meg Mason is a test for the reader. If you were Martha’s friend or family, would you stay by her side? Would you give up in frustration? Would you oscillate between the two, committed but at a loss, like we see with the characters in the book?

The novel is an exploration of a mental illness that’s intentionally left unnamed. It’s been said depression is contagious, but also that laughter is the best medicine. Whether you find Martha’s acerbic humor endearing or the ending convincing perhaps says more about you than about the people on the page.