Summary
My Royal Nemesis feels a little too far into slapstick silliness in “Forbidden Fruit”, holding the main plot in stasis while Heo Nam-jun carries things.
There’s a very fine line between slapstick-y comedy and outright goofy claptrap, and it was inevitable that at some point, My Royal Nemesis was going to lean one way or the other. In Episode 5, it lands a little uncomfortably on the silly side of the aisle, arguably in a way that can feel a bit off-putting and infantilising. Lim Ji-yeon has been so good in this show from the very beginning that the temptation must be just to have her do everything possible, but you can have too much of a good thing, and “Forbidden Fruit” feels like it’s providing it.
Refreshingly, though, it’s Heo Nam-jun who carries the episode, and he does a very capable job of it. His role isn’t as obviously showy, but he’s still being asked to cycle through a whole range of modes and emotions on very short notice as his romantic pursuit of Dan-sim takes on various twists and turns, and he’s really good, even if the more flustered he becomes, the less believable as a ruthless chaebol heir he is.
But whatever. I’ve been moaning about that since, like, Episode 2, and there’s a solid argument that it works in exactly the same way with Dan-sim, with a lot of her present-day behaviour directly undercutting the idea of her being a ruthless court lady in her heyday. At this point, I’m just not concerned with the consistency of the characterisation across eras anymore, since it very obviously isn’t the point.
What is the point is furthering the relationship between Dan-sim and Se-gye, which hits something of a roadblock here since Dan-sim, despite feeling the same way, pretends not to and rejects Se-gye’s advances. And rejection isn’t something he’s especially used to, given his position, so his inability to deal with it is what most of My Royal Nemesis Episode 5 burns for fuel.
There’s also Mun-do to factor into all this, since his machinations are continuing unchecked. He’s staking out Dan-sim’s place and watching Se-gye go in, he’s bribing lawyers, and just generally being an insipid little rat. Part of Dan-sim’s motivation in keeping Se-gye at arm’s length is rooted in trying to avoid falling into Mun-do’s trap, but classically, Se-gye assumes she’s playing hard to get and decides that love bombing will do the trick.
Love bombing is a bit questionable, obviously, but this is the kind of thing that leads in K-Dramas get away with all the time, so it barely warrants a mention. His overtures affect Dan-sim as she tries to film the second season of Ji-hyo’s historical drama – as Seo-ri, obviously – as Ji-hyo, recently jilted, gets the wrong idea about her having a rich boyfriend. Dan-sim spends most of her time on set trying to militantly enforce historical accuracy, which is the same shtick she has been peddling since the premiere.
Dal-su is also involved in all this, trying to match Se-gye up with anyone other than Seo-ri, which leads to a blind date fiasco that obviously doesn’t amount to anything. This is because it’s clear – has been clear since the beginning – what the whole thing is amounting to, which is a connection between the leads that can’t be deterred despite either or both of them acting like idiots. My Royal Nemesis isn’t shy about establishing the historical connections, either, with Prince Cheongheon being equally romantic, but much more even keel, almost like he’s laying the blueprint for how Se-gye can woo Dan-sim.
In comparison to the Joseon scenes, the ending of “Forbidden Fruit” is particularly slapstick-y and ridiculous, involving a mix-up with some poisoned pills and a set of defibrillators, but the message is simple enough. These two are destined to be together, however much they beat around the bush in the meantime. I just think there’s a slightly more serious and convincing version of this story that’s getting a bit lost in all the silliness.
