We Are All Trying Here: A Piercing, Impeccable Portrayal of the Human Condition

Once in a blue moon, you’re introduced to a story that talks to your very soul. It’s as if its characters can look straight at you and defiantly hold your gaze as they bring to light every good and bad thing about you. They expose all the great things that you want the world to know, but also all the nasty traits that you do your best to hide from everyone else.

Such writing has a piercing quality to it that is difficult to replicate and a power that is almost impossible to describe.

And that’s exactly the kind of writing that brought to life JTBC’s We Are All Trying Here, a 12-episode black comedy psychological drama that came to a close in late May 2026.

Directed by Cha Young-hoon and written by Park Hae-young (who has also penned the equally extraordinary My Mister and My Liberation Notes), We Are All Trying Here is an incisive portrayal of human nature in all its tenderness, ruthlessness, and intricate contradictions. This is a story that navigates everything between the dark depths of selfishness and the bright heights of kindness, examining our delicate relationship with our own self-worth, our ability to foster genuine solidarity, and our need for emotional literacy.

This review is spoiler-free, but if you’re in a rush, why don’t you pin our summary? It’s at the bottom!

Stepping Into the Centre of History — or Trying to

We Are All Trying Here is led by Hwang Dong-man (Koo Kyo-hwan), a loud chatterbox who lives in a tiny apartment with his older brother, Jin-man (Park Hae-joon). We’re talking about a pair of very artistic brothers here: Jin-man used to be a poet, and Dong-man is an aspiring film director. For the past twenty years, Dong-man has tried to find his place in the film industry to no avail, making him the only member from “The Eight Club” — a prestigious group of successful filmmakers — who hasn’t debuted yet.

Dong-man can’t help but feel he’s the only one who is a failure — a lonely loser living in a world of winners. Drowning in his own sense of worthlessness and being constantly guided by jealousy, envy, and anxiety, Dong-man is stuck in a rut. He talks non-stop to hide his constant feelings of angst, eats away his helplessness and frustration, and puts up with part-time jobs that mean little to him. He criticises everything and everyone all the time, which has also strained his relationship with most of his “The Eight Club” friends.

That strain is particularly clear when we observe the current state of the bond between Dong-man and his fellow “The Eight Club” member — and former best friend — Park Gyeong-se (Oh Jung-se). After a successful debut over a decade ago, Gyeong-se has been struggling to direct and/or write another hit. He blames his failures on Dong-man’s negativity and criticism, which means that Gyeong-se and Dong-man bicker every single time they see each other.

Dong-man’s life has become a vicious cycle of long-winded conversations, crass eating habits, and oversharing unwanted opinions. But that’s set to change when he has an almost mystical encounter at a railway level crossing. One night on his way back home, he strikes up a conversation with the brilliant Byeon Eun-a (Go Youn-jung), a film producer. Everyone knows Eun-a as “the Axe” because she has an uncannily sharp eye for script editing. Despite her little experience and lack of formal education, Eun-a can pinpoint the exact strengths and weaknesses of a screenplay and give the writer honest advice that can transform a decent story into a fantastic one.

Once Dong-man and Eun-a cross paths, their lives — so full of sorrow, pain, and fear — slowly regain colour and hope. It’s as if they were both frozen in time, not living but merely surviving, and their encounter thaws their personal clocks and allows them to tick again.

Yes, We Are All Trying Here and That’s Enough

An impeccably compassionate character study, We Are All Trying Here is imbued with a tangible, raw, and profoundly humane quality that gives three-dimensionality to its universe and characters. It finds poetry in the most sombre and most mundane of moments, daring to examine our pettiest traits, our loneliness, and our worthlessness in order to transform them all into something equally unique and universal. This is a series that laughs at the vices and faults of human nature, offering a clever illustration of our cowardice and lack of self-confidence as well as of our potential and goodness.

Nothing is ever black and white in We Are All Trying Here. Every relationship, feeling, and attitude is portrayed with all its complex intricacies: we are always more than what we seem to be or dare admit to being. The creation of bonds between characters in the series then depends on them looking past their appearances, recognising their own feelings and shortcomings, and empathising with one another’s constant disquiet. While the friendships in We Are All Trying Here display these dynamics with profound poignancy and charm, no other relationship portrays such a process with the heart that Dong-man and Eun-a’s romance does.

Dong-man and Eun-a choose to look beyond their anxiety, traumas, and complexes, finding a spark of uniqueness, beauty, and kindness within their soul that is cherished and fostered through their relationship. They care about each other in the most genuine of ways, becoming each other’s source of consolation, support, and acceptance. In that way, they both blossom as stronger, more self-aware individuals. It’s absolutely stunning to see their relationship flourish as they quietly plant in each other’s hearts the idea that their lives do have meaning and yes, they are worthy of love and compassion.

We Are All Trying Here is populated by characters that are always asking themselves: “Am I enough? Am I deserving of joy and love? Am I allowed to share my pain with others?” There’s no real antagonist in this narrative, because the villain here lives within every single member of this show’s exceptional ensemble. They overcompensate their sense of failure with defence mechanisms that we can often relate to, and their quest for greater self-knowledge is one most of us strive to embark on as well. As these individuals seek to create a candid conversation not only with each other, but also with themselves, they come to realise that there’s no such thing as “losers” or “winners”.

We’re all battling our own ghosts, complexes, and fears every single day, after all.

The goal of Dong-man, Eun-a, and their companions’ journey isn’t to make a successful film, but to learn to stop measuring their own worth by comparing themselves to others. They have to identify their own emotions (whether positive or negative) and discover how to express them sincerely. These characters will only thrive once they develop a sense of understanding, acceptance, and empathy — towards others and themselves.

We Are All Trying Here explores all of these ideas through a cathartic and layered narrative, lyrical dialogue, and a collection of effective symbols and motifs. What would this series be without Dong-man and Eun-a’s “emotion watch”, a tool through which characters are forced to reflect and describe their feelings? Who would Dong-man be without his coat, which represents his profound desire to be recognised as someone worthy, someone who has actually done something meaningful to the world?

Even though We Are All Trying Here is a painfully accurate portrayal of angst, self-doubt, and existential sorrow, this is also a story that pays attention to the little details of everyday life, bringing out the gentleness of those seemingly unimportant moments. A simple meal shared establishes profound and caring connections, and food left for the birds illustrates a kind and sensitive soul. We Are All Trying Here goes from comedy to drama, from joy to heartbreak, with tenderness and elegance, never deviating from a tone that feels humane and incredibly real.

We Are All Trying Here is also an ode to the storyteller that lives within us all. Characters in the series are constantly telling each other stories, reminding us that we are made up of tales that deserve to be listened to at the end of the day. Stories represent who we once were, who we are today, and who we want to become, tying us to those around us as they write their own stories too.

By setting the narrative in the film industry, the show has the opportunity to offer sharp commentary on the current state of the artistic community in Korea (and around the world, really) — which is quite timely, given the recent crisis in the Korean film industry. Besides, that setting allows We Are All Trying Here to be fairly whimsical. Both visually and narratively, the script uses allegories and imaginative sequences that balance the darkness of its themes with a playfulness that lends a hopeful, rather than cynical, tone to the story.

Photography, production design, and editing are of outstanding delicacy, existing in active conversation with the narrative. The entire cast delivers mesmerising performances, too: Koo Kyo-hwan is a mighty protagonist, Go Youn-jung offers one of her most nuanced deliveries, and Oh Jung-se is absolutely fascinating. But I have to highlight Kang Mal-geum’s perfect Ko Hye-jin, the CEO of Kopark Film and Gyeong-se’s wife. In the face of a bunch of hysterical grown men screaming and making a fuss, Hye-jin always says exactly what needs to be said with calm, wit, and confidence. She’s always shouldering so much on her own, and, even as her façade starts to crack towards the end of the show, Kang gives Hye-jin a kind of tenacity, maturity, and charisma that is unmatched.

Should You Watch We Are All Trying Here?

A rare gem, We Are All Trying Here reminds us that we can all transform our emotional wounds into empathy, solidarity, and strength. This is a flawlessly executed series that examines human nature with incredible precision, finding hope in both our best and worst moments. Meticulously paced, gorgeously shot, and poignantly delivered, We Are All Trying Here proposes an introspective drama that makes us feel seen, listened to, and understood. And what it tells us is that yes, we’re all fighting our own worthlessness, and that’s absolutely okay. We are enough just the way we are.

You can watch We Are All Trying Here on: