The Dream Life of Mr Kim: An Extraordinarily Humane Character Study

What’s your dream life? Maybe it’s a solid career, lots of money, a happy marriage, or travelling around the world? We all have different ideas when it comes to the ideal existence on this big planet Earth, but some goals are more common than others. For instance, in JTBC’s The Dream Life of Mr Kim, the protagonist’s dream life seems straightforward enough: a good job, a family to go home to, a house under his name.

But is that enough for him to be satisfied? Could life be that simple?

Adapted from Song Hui-gu’s novel of the same name, The Dream Life of Mr Kim was penned by Kim Hong-ki and Yoon Hye-sung and directed by Jo Hyun-tak. Told in 12 sharp episodes, this might well be a story about an Everyman, but this is definitely not your everyday K-drama.

This review is spoiler-free! But if you’re in a rush, make sure to pin our summary at the bottom!

When the Ahjussi Becomes the Protagonist

About 20 percent of Koreans have “Kim” as their family name. So Kim Nak-su (Ryu Seung-ryong) is the epitome of the Korean Everyman: a fifty-something-year-old who has worked at the same company for 25 years, steadily and confidently climbing the corporate ladder as the years have gone by. He’s married to a lovely wife, Park Ha-jin (a profoundly charismatic Myung Se-bin), and they have a bright son, the 20-year-old Su-gyeom (Cha Kang-yoon), who attends a fairly prestigious university.

Mr Kim is your everyday “ahjussi“, a middle-aged man who grew up in a generation that believed life was a series of boxes that should be ticked. During Nak-su and Ha-jin’s very first date, he mentions that he needed “to get promoted, buy a house, and get married. [He] should work hard.” There’s no in-between, no diversion. These are the sure-fire steps a man should take towards becoming a respected member of society — and Mr Kim takes them very, very seriously.

While the series provides these rare flashbacks to contextualise the narrative and character dynamics, we spend most of our time with the current Mr Kim — a general manager whose next step is a promotion to an executive position. There’s no other option: after all, he’s been a hardworking employee for over two decades and such a promotion is only logical.

We all know a Mr Kim — as a father, a husband, or a boss. Or you’ve met him in another Korean drama, as the protagonist’s father or the protagonist’s annoying boss. But in The Dream Life of Mr Kim, he is the protagonist himself. And what a fascinating main character he makes for: one whose behaviour makes us awfully uncomfortable and frustrated, but who also makes us root and cry for him.

Flawlessly delivered by the magnificent Ryu Seung-ryong, Mr Kim is arrogant, proud, controlling, and self-centred at first. He always knows more than everyone, he’s always right, and he’s always in constant competition against everyone else. But, at the same time, there’s something good about him. He can be kind, considerate, loyal, and dedicated too. For some reason, you can’t help but feel sorry for him. Do we feel sorry because he’s trying to win against a system that has fooled him? Or because he’s naïve enough to believe his ways are the only right ones? Or is it just because he’s indeed a tad pathetic at times?

Mr Kim isn’t your young, handsome, and endlessly kind protagonist who overcomes the obstacles and gets the girl in the end. No, Mr Kim is a complex, multifaceted human being who is a victim of an exploitative capitalist system and a patriarchal society that made him believe this is how he should be. The Dream Life of Mr Kim is an extraordinary character study that breaks its protagonist to allow him to be reborn. Carefully yet ruthlessly, every single episode gets rid of one layer of his persona until we find his very core.

The narrative is meticulously designed by its characters’ actions: everything that happens is a result of Mr Kim’s decisions, and yet, Mr Kim is only who he is because of all the external influences he’s received throughout his life. He was raised in a society that encourages people to show off, to constantly prove their worth and success to others. He grew up in a home that encouraged him to compete, always to beat others rather than collaborate with them. He was brought up in a generation that dictated that men should be strong and stoic. Men shouldn’t need help; they don’t need to communicate openly, and they should always financially support their wives and children.

This is the journey of The Dream Life of Mr Kim: Mr Kim has to learn that life is what happens in between the boxes. But most importantly, he needs to understand whether those boxes were really of his own choosing or if they are mere goals that society imposed on him.

The Dream Life of Mr Kim is an incredibly layered human drama, peppered with small interactions that affect the narrative and slowly change its protagonist. Mr Kim becomes more and more vulnerable with every instalment. He’s haunted by intergenerational conflicts, cultural and social expectations, and a system that exploits his dreams, desires, and hard work. What at first seemed to be a black-and-white existence to Mr Kim — white vs blue collar, civilised vs barbaric, arrogance vs humility, success vs failure — slowly turns into a universe with shades of grey.

How does one earn respect from society? Why did he fail even though he ticked all the boxes? Why is office culture so awfully manipulative, fake, and inhumane? Why do we go to unbelievable lengths just to protect our pride?

The Dream Life of Mr Kim then becomes a painfully realistic portrayal of this capitalist society that preaches eternal productivity, of a fake meritocracy that fools people into believing that dedication is enough, of sexist customs that often go unnoticed (the wife shouldn’t work, the female employee is the one who should get the drinks, women are rarely seen in management positions) — and of the vicious cycles that keep perpetuating these realities. It even broaches how older generations carry this intrinsic prejudice against mental health struggles, another element that is organically intertwined within the narrative and plays a huge role in the growth of our main character.

Bit by bit, Mr Kim is invited to revisit his antiquated values and rediscover his identity. After all, who is he without the company or the pretty titles he yearns for? His sense of self is so profoundly linked to his work persona that Mr Kim comes to realise that he doesn’t know who Nak-su is anymore. For this absurd system that exploited him, for the appearances he tries so hard to keep, he’s willing to humiliate himself instead of being honest. He’s willing to keep piling up his problems instead of asking for help.

But, as his unwavering faith in the company he’s dedicated his life to starts to be tested, he starts looking at the world outside the office. He starts noticing the good leaders he can learn from. He realises how his wife and son have been those who keep him grounded. He stops seeing his fellow colleagues as cogs in a machine, as faceless Everyman, and starts seeing them as people with parents, partners, children — people with simple dreams like his. Because, in the end, Nak-su’s happiness comes from these small pleasures: having dinner with his loved ones, going for a walk with his wife, and having a laugh with a friend.

So what’s stopping him from living the life he truly wants? What is it that truly matters?

The Dream Life of Mr Kim answers these questions through an extremely compassionate narrative that acknowledges Mr Kim’s flaws, mistakes, and misconceptions, but it’s understanding towards his dreams, intentions, and moral compass. He isn’t a hero, but he isn’t a villain either. He’s indeed a product of the circumstances, but he also has agency to go against them.

The series also offers Mr Kim’s wife, Ha-jin, and their son, Su-gyeom, excellent subplots that strengthen the story’s theme of the pursuit of happiness and the development of identity and independence. Everything in The Dream Life of Mr Kim is connected: every character matters, every scene has a clear purpose. All of that is also reflected in Jo Hyun-tak’s flawless direction — photography in The Dream Life of Mr Kim is always reflecting or foreshadowing the script. The soundtrack, composed of several instrumental tracks and just three original songs (plus La Poem’s stunning special version of “You Raise Me Up”), is simply transcendental, balancing the show’s comical and dramatic tones with mastery.

Should You Watch The Dream Life of Mr Kim?

Easily one of the year’s greatest human dramas, The Dream Life of Mr Kim is beautifully shot and impeccably delivered. Counting on a powerhouse of a cast led by an absolute superstar of a leading actor, this is a series that treats its characters with sensitivity, respect, and care. Even though some of its humour and Su-gyeom’s romantic subplot can be quite trite, this is a unique, refreshing, and human exploration of the life of a middle-aged man who realises the world he was sold isn’t really the actual world that surrounds him. And as we follow him on this journey towards self-discovery and uprooting of everything he thinks he knows, we’re invited to reflect on our own mistakes, pasts, and dreams.

Who knows, perhaps our own dream lives aren’t exactly what we believe them to be either.

You can watch The Dream Life of Mr Kim on: