When the Phone Rings Review: What Makes It Shine — and What Falls Short

Everyone has heard of MBC’s When the Phone Rings, the latest K-drama to take over Netflix’s Top 10 Lists, Instagram feeds, and K-drama online forums. Whether or not you’ve watched it, I’m sure you’ve seen someone making a comment or a guess as to where its intriguing narrative would lead them.

When the Phone Rings presents all the shocking twists of a well-executed and well-acted makjang while establishing a nuanced story of personal growth, self-respect, forgiveness, and empathy. The show allows its main characters to learn and evolve together while creating a cast of supporting characters that have clear purposes and goals. Throughout the first 11 episodes, When the Phone Rings proposes a captivating world that works well within its own set of rules but fails to deliver a finale that lives up to its potential.

When the Phone Rings is based on Geon Eomul Nyeo’s web novel of the same name. The adaptation was penned by Kim Ji-woon (from tvN’s Melancholia) and directed by Park Sang-woo (from MBC’s The Forbidden Marriage) and Wi Deuk-gyu (MBC’s Mobius: Black Sun). Throughout 12 episodes, we follow Paik Sa-eon (Yoo Yeon-seok), the youngest presidential spokesperson in the history of Korea, and his wife, Hong Hee-joo (Chae Soo-bin), a mute sign language interpreter. While Sa-eon comes from a prestigious political family, Hee-joo’s father is a powerful media mogul. Sa-eon and Hee-joo live together but don’t really talk to each other in their cold home. Changes start to happen when Hee-joo gets kidnapped.

This review contains spoilers. Read it at your own risk! You can also check our spoiler-free summary at the bottom!

When the Phone Rings & the Tension of Cause-and-Effect

Full of dramatic and unexpected turns, When the Phone Rings is a well-crafted makjang romantic mystery (if you don’t know the term, see Dramabeans’ wonderful definition: makjang is “a stylistic, tonal, or narrative element in dramas that chooses to play up outrageous storylines to keep viewers hooked despite how ridiculous the stories become“). The script makes full use of all sorts of clichés you can imagine: arranged marriages, evil mothers, even more evil grandfathers, kidnappings, murders, families caught in a web of lies and intrigue, and so on. But it works simply because When the Phone Rings is aware of its grandiose plot points and successfully arranges them in a thrilling sequence of cause and effect.

I’ve mentioned American-Scottish filmmaker Alexander Mackendrick a few times here, but there’s something that he used to say that I think perfectly applies to When the Phone Rings:

Most stories with a strong plot are built on the tension of cause and effect. Each incident is like a domino that topples forward to collide with the next in a sequence which holds the audience in a grip of anticipation. ‘So, what happens next?’ Each scene presents a small crisis that as it is revolved produces a new uncertainty. [After all,] drama is expectation mingled with uncertainty.

With When the Phone Rings, we are prompted to constantly guess what is coming next, wondering how far those characters are willing to go to accomplish their goals and how they would react to new discoveries and incidents.

How to Make a Makjang Work: World-building & Conflict

With the exception of the last episode (we shall talk about that later, don’t worry), When the Phone Rings excels at world-building, creating a universe with its own rules and morals. That being so, we’re compelled to suspend our disbelief and fully engage with the narrative, rooting for the heroes and despising the villains.

Eleven out of twelve episodes are exceptionally written, providing a fast-paced story that seamlessly blends romance, mystery, thriller, and revenge. As every action leads to a reaction and all characters have a clear purpose in the story, they are constantly faced with the consequences of their efforts and are motivated to respond. They follow a long and winding road towards their goals, whether to protect a loved one, get a divorce, become the president, or enact vengeance. As they are constantly placed in conflict with one another, our main characters are pushed to grow, allowing the script to develop a solid character arc for Sa-eon and Hee-joo.

When (and Why) the Phone Rings: the Phone as a Motif

Despite its dark tones, the heart of the narrative is the relationship between Hee-joo and Sa-eon. Both characters grew up in unhealthy environments, raised by twisted, selfish parents who either don’t provide their children with any sort of love or teach them a “love” that is only based on one-sided sacrifice and obedience. They have become adults who are incapable of honestly conveying emotion and lack self-esteem. When placed together under the same roof, Hee-joo, who can’t assert herself, and Sa-eon, who can’t communicate honestly, seem to be living isolated as if on two different islands.

However, everything changes with a phone call.

The phone is a motif in When the Phone Rings, a constant symbol of the themes of sincere communication, discovery of one’s identity, and self-growth. As the episodes go by, you witness the device building a bridge between Hee-joo and Sa-eon’s little islands, bringing them closer together. Throughout the show, phones reveal identities, ignite changes, relay orders, and represent the characters’ voices.

Hee-joo’s Character Arc

At the beginning of the story, Hee-joo carries her phone around everywhere, as she needs to type her words to the people who can’t use sign language. The phone is, at first, Hee-joo’s voice to the world, part of a personality that she has had to create in order to survive.

We find that, initially, she’s often meek and naive. Her mother, who always made her feel like a nobody whose voice was never important enough to be heard, brought Hee-joo up as a woman who is way too timid to act on her beliefs, needs, and desires. That’s the reason why she never confessed her feelings to Sa-eon even though she’d cared about him since their adolescence. After they got married, however, that initial fondness slowly turned into anger, hurt, and further insecurity as he kept his distance and treated her coldly at home. In her marriage to Sa-eon, she’s always been a hostage — a pawn in a game of politics between two families.

Once Hee-joo starts using her kidnapper’s phone, the object now gives her the opportunity to embrace a “new” persona, “406”. But 406 is nothing more, nothing less than the Hee-joo that has been suppressed all these years, and the phone now grants her the freedom to express herself in the way she’s always wanted but never felt she had the right to. After the kidnapping in the first episode, the phone is then a key out of the prison cell of her marriage: she can use it to get a divorce and live her own life. Once again, the show plays with a cause-and-effect thread: her goal of getting a divorce only exists because of the hurt caused by Sa-eon’s actions throughout the first three years of their married life.

Sa-eon’s Character Arc

Meanwhile, Sa-eon was first raised by a kind but restrained man who sent him away to live with the Paiks. With them, Sa-eon was never accepted as part of the family and raised through contempt, demands, and fake public smiles. Therefore, Sa-eon lacks a sense of identity, as he’s trapped in a life that isn’t his. From his perspective, he’s never been truly wanted by anyone and was never taught to convey his emotions with sincerity. 

As teenagers, Sa-eon and Hee-joo were companions, fellow black sheep in their respective families. A few episodes in, we find out that Sa-eon has always loved Hee-joo and intended to help her build a better life for herself. His marriage to her then frees him from the family he never really belonged to and allows him to protect the only person he’s ever identified with. She never needed to know his real intentions (or feelings) behind their arranged relationship, as in his eyes, she’s another person who doesn’t want or care about him.

As they are unable to communicate openly, it’s the phone calls from 406 that push Sa-eon to face his own actions, rediscover the person he wants to be, and realise the connection between love and sincerity. Eventually, he comes to understand that Hee-joo wants to be loved as much as he does, so the phone becomes the key to a relationship he’s always dreamt of.

Bringing It All Together: Hee-joo, Sa-eon & What Comes After the Phone Rings

The phone calls send shock waves through their daily lives, igniting changes in their personalities and their bond. It’s 406’s calls that unveil the complex layers of not only their relationship but their own selves. Sa-eon gradually becomes warmer and more honest. He slowly understands that he’s not only needed but loved by Hee-joo. On the other hand, Hee-joo becomes more assertive and develops a strong sense of self-worth and self-respect. She understands that her life is meaningful and she has every right to use her own voice to defend her opinions, wants, and needs.

The script focuses on Sa-eon’s and Hee-joo’s character arcs, allowing them to develop and arrive in Episode 12 as two completely different individuals. Their relationship, as they discover the truth about each other’s real selves, is then built on sincerity and mutual respect but also emphasises the beauty of forgiveness, empathy, and kindness.

Yoo Yeon-seok and Chae Soo-bin play their characters flawlessly, both offering nuanced performances with undeniable chemistry. Their emotions resonate loud and clear, and the love and yearning Sa-eon and Hee-joo feel for each other become stronger and stronger with each episode. Their scenes together are spellbinding, their sizzling and effortless dynamic drawing us further and further into the narrative — a must-watch couple, for sure.

When the Phone Rings & Its Supporting Characters

The show also introduces Heo Nam-jun as Sang-woo, a doctor who is also Hee-joo’s university friend, and Jang Gyu-ri as Yu-ri, the anchorwoman who was Sa-eon’s junior. They are both charismatic roles that contribute to the action of the plot and assist in the development of Hee-joo and Sa-eon’s character arcs. Despite a few “jealousy” scenes in early episodes, the show successfully avoids love triangles (and unnecessary breakups!), which leads to a heartwarming romantic subplot between Sang-woo and Yu-ri that blossoms naturally throughout the second half.

A Pleasant Surprise: Hee-joo’s Mother and Step-sister

Another character and subplot handled gracefully is Hee-joo’s relationship with her mother, Kim Yeon-hui (Oh Hyun-kyung). By the end of the show, Hee-joo tells her mother exactly what she believes in and establishes clear boundaries that offer the possibility of a redemption arc that would happen beyond the last episode.

Even better is the dynamic between Hee-joo and her step-sister, In-ah (Han Jae-yi). In-ah is initially presented as a dodgy character, and we, as the audience, refuse to trust her alongside Hee-joo. Throughout the show, however, In-ah proves to be a determined woman who now understands the failings within her family and is keen to fight for what she believes is right. The cherry on top was a moving, genuine scene in episode 12, in which In-ah apologises for her actions, showing real remorse and the will to mend her relationship with Hee-joo. This scene not only consolidates In-ah’s character but also highlights Hee-joo’s progress, who responds in an honest, mature, and kind way to her sister’s words. It also reflects the theme of forgiveness that we see in previous episodes.

When the Phone Rings: The Good & Bad Guys

When the Phone Rings is full of likeable characters, such as Im Chul-soo’s Office Manager Kang Young-woo, Choi Woo-jin’s Assistant Park Do-jae, Yang Jo-ah’s Director Han Ji-yi, and Lee Doo-suk’s Detective Kang. Extra cookie points go to the role of the police in When the Phone Rings. In the series, the police actually play an active role in the plot and often respond appropriately within the rules of the show’s universe. Lee Doo-suk also gives his Detective Kang a realistic, reliable aura. That makes for a decent change from the oft-aloof police force that we often find in K-dramas.

Meanwhile, the villains are thoroughly despicable, but their characters go beyond just “being bad”. The “real” Paik Sa-eon/Kidnapper (a marvellous performance by Park Jae-yoon) has clear sociopathic tendencies, but his backstory is developed well enough to grant him a character that can exist on his own. His motives are made clear to the audience, making for a well-rounded antagonist whose actions are justified. The same applies to his awful mother, Kyu-jin (Chu Sang-mi). It’s the conflict between them and the rest of the cast that ignites and moves the plot forward, and ultimately, they design their own demise.

When the Phone Rings & Park + Wi’s Excellent Direction

Park Sang-woo and Wi Deuk-gyu skillfully direct When the Phone Rings with meaningful compositions, excellent use of colour, and smooth transitions. The camerawork in When the Phone Rings is always motivated by the plot, but it also gives visual poetry to certain scenes.

An excellent example is the scene in episode 4 where Hee-joo needs to interpret Sa-eon’s “random” text during a job interview. Sa-eon’s line beautifully summarises their relationship and the question that the show proposes: if Sa-eon and Hee-joo “made an effort now, could they live like any other ordinary couple?” Directors Park and Wi translate the scene to the screen with mastery, isolating the two characters in a symbolic scene that bolsters the words provided by the script and visually conveys the poignant, longing nature of Sa-eon and Hee-joo’s bond — a little work of art within When the Phone Rings.

The Role of Sign Language

Another lovely aspect of the show is the importance placed on sign language. Sign language is vital for Hee-joo, and at first, it’s the only language through which she can express herself genuinely. Besides the phone, it’s once Sa-eon starts learning sign language, they start communicating more openly with each other. Therefore, sign language is another element that brings our two main characters together and reinforces their bond. In the end, Hee-joo embraces sign language as an important part of herself and is proud to continue building her career as an interpreter. I also need to mention that when Chae Soo-bin won the Excellence Award at the 2024 MBC Drama Awards last week, she delivered part of her speech in sign language. What a queen!

Where When the Phone Rings Falls Short: Episode 12

The last episode, however, is the weak link in the show. While it ties up all narrative threads satisfactorily, it introduces “the Argan sequence”, which not only fails to make any sort of sense within the overall context of the show but also completely disregards Sa-eon’s character arc.

Even though the Argan sequence is present in the original novel, it took place with a completely different set-up that allows it to work as part of the novel’s narrative. In the show, Hee-joo’s trip to Argan is ridiculously presented: Hee-joo is given two “clues” to Sa-eon’s whereabouts, set up by Sa-eon himself (who wanted to “hide”). A well-dressed Hee-joo flies to the country and sets off through the jungle, towards a rebel-occupied zone in the middle of — what seems to be — a war. She’s then taken hostage (again) and rescued by a “Rambo-like” Sa-eon, who is hiding in a house behind bushes but right next to a wonderful beach.

This sequence seems to come from nowhere both visually and narratively, creating a jarring contrast with the rest of the show. While it demonstrates Hee-joo’s newfound confidence and willingness to chase after what she really wants, it forces Sa-eon to not only place her in a position of danger (when he’s always worked to protect her) but also break the honest communication line that they had established (when, by episode 11, he’d clearly learnt the importance of sincerity and communication in a relationship).

The final 15 minutes are the happy ending we were all expecting, portraying Hee-joo and now Yu-yeon’s new life in marked contrast with their old reality. Their new home is warm, colourful, and full of natural light as opposed to their old apartment, which was cold, dark, and monotone. They are seen smiling and working on a healthy relationship they are openly invested in. The phone motif comes back to wrap the tale up: they recognise that the sincere and confident personalities that the two embraced over the phone need to continue over face-to-face communication, once again emphasising the heartfelt progression of both characters.

A Quick Note on the Newsroom Scene

I’m saddened that the strengths and weaknesses of When the Phone Rings as a television drama have been overshadowed by the incongruous and polemic scene in the newsroom in Episode 12, in which Yu-ri announces Yu-yeon’s work as a hostage negotiator in the “Izmael-Paltima” conflict.

Although it seems that Netflix chose not to translate the chyron and mistranslate Yu-ri’s line into English (you can read more about it here if you’d like; the translation is slightly different depending on the language, too), I still found it incredibly insensitive to use such an awful ongoing conflict as part of a narrative that is anything but realistic. Imagine if they had done it using South and North Korea. Can you imagine the backlash and the offence that that would’ve caused? Anyway, I don’t see what the story, the writer, the producers, and MBC would gain from such a scene. They could’ve used “Argan” instead, or introduced Yu-yeon’s new job some other way without involving such a delicate topic that has nothing to do with the drama and causes hurt to so many people.

As of the writing of this review, neither Netflix nor MBC has acknowledged, apologised for, or removed the newsroom scene in Episode 12.

[Spoiler-free] Should You Watch When the Phone Rings?

Despite a weak finale, When the Phone Rings is a well-crafted series about sincerity, personal growth, and identity, giving us a cast of compelling characters and a riveting plot that keeps us all on the edge of our seats. As we rediscover what love entails alongside Sa-eon and Hee-joo, we can’t help but fall in love with these two incredible characters and their allies and even feel a bit lonely after the show ends. If you’re a realistic sort of person who doesn’t really appreciate the makjang genre, this might be a bit too much for you. But if you allow yourself to be placed in a different reality for a while, you’ll be in for an engrossing ride. When the Phone Rings presents the thrill of the unexpected, embracing the extravagant clichés of its genre and presenting them in a peculiar, nuanced, and thoroughly addictive manner.

You can watch When the Phone Rings on:

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Have you watched When the Phone Rings? What did you think about it? Let me know in the comments!