“The Legend of Kitchen Soldier” (TVING, Viki, HBO Max)
Jeong Dana: The kitchen is his new frontline.

Does the military truly run on brute force and rigid rules alone? Inflexible hierarchy dictates what goes on in one kitchen in the South Korean Army that forms the backdrop for the TVING original series “The Legend of Kitchen Soldier.” But this show practically makes a mockery of all the formality, inviting viewers into the world of Private Kang Seong-jae (Park Jihoon) as he keeps his unit in line not with a rifle but with the Rose-Knife handed to him by their Master Sergeant (Yoon Kyung Ho).

Smiley face pin on chest, Seong-jae carries the weight of depression and a gaming addiction mixed in with derision and disregard from his superiors, epitomizing “the complete ‘high-risk soldier’ package.” The second he becomes a kitchen soldier, though, the show makes a 180-degree turn into comedy. Armed with a preternatural ability to clock the name, origin, manufacturer, and expiration date of any ingredient with a mere glance, Seong-jae makes up for any shortcomings the kitchen or its suppliers can throw at him, masking the smell of stale three-year-old rice with apple cider vinegar and overcoming foods of dubious origin and insufficient supplies, all on his “journey to become the Legendary Chef.” His sea urchin seaweed soup is so good it floors the Battalion Commander (Jung Woong In), and his memories of cooking at his late father’s restaurant, Seong-jae’s Table, help him cover up the fishiness of braised boneless pollock with tomato spaghetti sauce and win over a congressman (Park Myung Hoon). It all plays out like the classic fantasy story where sheer talent overcomes an oppressive system, and gives the protagonist a character arc like those in the shonen manga targeted at young boys.

But what really brings this otherwise old-fashioned fantasy story to life is the humor. You can’t help but laugh at the scene where the Battalion Commander and the Company Commander, the two most powerful people on base, suddenly start romping along the beach like carefree children after eating Seong-jae’s samgyeopsal. Sometimes gastronomic catharsis enters the realm of slapstick, like when Ko Tae-seok (Na Tae Joo), owner of the mobile canteen, gives Seong-jae’s cooking a taste and we’re inexplicably transported to the middle of a soccer field, where Seong-jae dances like a madman while playing the accordion until Tae-seok’s forced to admit defeat. The real pleasure in all the absurdity is the fantastical notion that a single meal, when cooked to perfection, can send even the most rigid hierarchy toppling over. Scary superiors and demanding officers alike are disarmed the moment Private Kang Seong-jae puts food in front of them. This show knows exactly what kind of classic fantasy story it’s serving up, and it still makes you want seconds. All the audience has to do is sit back and enjoy a dish of pure comfort food.

“Good Nothing” (sunwashere)
Kim Doheon (music critic): It’s a clear day, not a cloud in the sky. Time seems to stand still under the blazing sun. And on days like these, I sometimes feel a strange sense of helplessness. Trapped in what feels like a moment that will never end, I fall into a sadness with no clear cause. I thought I was alone in feeling this way, but apparently there’s a real name for it—reverse seasonal affective disorder.

The vibe of sunwashere’s debut studio album, “Good Nothing,” might be summed up as “the sun was there.” Singer Yisun first made a name for herself thanks to her guest vocals on PEPPERTONES’ bright, breezy third studio album. Then, under a new name, she began exploring the shadows hiding inside the light in 2019. Making songs with nothing but a guitar and her voice, she worked solo and with Jeon Yonghyeon and eAeon to reflect and refract tranquil melodies from every angle until they split apart into something prismatic. What she sings about is the feeling that comes back every day while mindlessly moving through the pockets of time and space you find inside of routine. The album is filled with a helplessness over losing things while fooling yourself into thinking you already understand everything, and a fragile resolve to keep moving forward even through regret—in other words, that it’s good to be nothing. It’s like the self-defeating words in “Sometimes, Always”: “If you keep pretending it’s nothing / You can just end up believing it.”

sunwashere sinks deep on “okay, hate me” and “Overthinking” (feat. Samui), but she’s no longer alone. The triumphant arc of “If Not You,” the new interpretation of the previously acoustic “Linger On” into an aching arrangement with a full band—these paint the picture of a singer-songwriter walking steadily into the heart of summertime sadness. Joe Wonsun, YoongJin, Han Heejung, and sunwashere.

“It Lasts Forever and Then It’s Over” (Anne de Marcken)
Kim Boksung (writer): “It Lasts Forever and Then It’s Over” is a short, eerie, and strangely tender book by Anne de Marcken, set after an apocalyptic event. The main character is undead—deceased, but not gone. She steadily moves westward, unable to remember who she was and coping with being away from the place she can feel she used to call home and a person she once loved but can’t fully remember. As she walks, the names, memories, and even body parts that once defined who she was slip away from her forever.

This isn’t a typical horror story filled with jump scares and in-your-face encounters. It’s quieter and weirder, more like a dream you’re not sure you understand. It’s like the phrase “hauntingly beautiful” was invented specifically for this book, trading traditional horror for existential dread.

It’s confusing (especially at first), surreal, at times gross, at times lyrical. De Marcken uses the familiar insatiable zombie trope and turns it into an extended metaphor for endless longing in the face of devastating loss. If you’re looking for the rare book that’s as gruesome as it is surreal and poetic, this is it.