Review'We Are All Trying Here' answers fear of worthlessness

Koo Kyo-hwan, left, and Go Youn-jung are seen in a scene from JTBC drama "We Are All Trying Here." Courtesy of JTBC

The JTBC drama "We Are All Trying Here" is creating a quiet sensation, depicting the deep-seated anxieties and deficiencies of the human psyche alongside a warm humanism that embraces them. Fans have offered "testimonials" for the show, claiming "not a single line of dialogue is wasted" and that they "savor each episode carefully."

The story follows Dong-man (Koo Kyo-hwan), a man who has written 14 screenplays but has yet to film a single one, and Eun-a (Go Youn-jung), a film producer haunted by the trauma of being neglected by her mother during childhood.

Dong-man remains the only member of "The Eight Club" — a group where members share their dreams of directing during their "pathetic" college days — who has yet to debut in 20 years.

Portrayed as a somewhat pitiful character who talks incessantly among friends and freezes the atmosphere by scathingly criticizing the new release of a former best friend, Dong-man is a man racing downhill, shouting, "If I can’t prove myself through success, I’ll prove myself by falling apart."

However, his nonstop chatter is actually a way to confirm his existence and face the terror he feels from those who view him as a failure. Even when his self-esteem hits rock bottom and others try to cruelly expose his worthlessness, he recites a passage from his own script: "As long as there are clouds in the sky, wind in the air and leaves swaying on the trees — as long as weather still exists, then the world still exists as well."

A scene from JTBC drama "We Are All Trying Here" / Courtesy of JTBC

On the other hand, Eun-a, a planning producer at a film company, is someone who internalizes her pain.

Although she possesses such a keen eye that famous directors bypass the CEO to hand her scripts directly, she suffers from a deep fear of abandonment after being left by her mother as a child. Whenever she faces extreme anxiety or dread, she suffers from nosebleeds.

Perhaps the reason Eun-a is the only one who understands Dong-man is that she knows the "terror of worthlessness" through her own experience of being discarded. Strangely, however, she feels at peace when she is with him. This is because, despite being told he is worthless and struggling through the pain, Dong-man never truly collapses or becomes intimidated.

When the CEO of Choi Film treated Dong-man’s script like trash and told him to leave the industry and live "productively," Dong-man didn't crumble; instead, he fought back, asking: "Why do I have to live how you want me to?"

Eun-a, who used to endure pain in silence, begins to change after meeting Dong-man. Seeing that he does not break, even when cast aside, she, for the first time, snaps at the CEO who treats her carelessly, saying, "I’m not easy or weak; I’m just quiet."

For Dong-man, Eun-a is the only person who makes his frantic talking stop. In her presence, he does not feel the need to perform; he is finally, simply, seen.

The solidarity between Dong-man and Eun-a — both harboring deep scars and darkness — resonates warmly with the many people who feel "worthless" because they fall short of the "success" defined by a society that prizes achievement and proof.

Eun-a recognizes the value in Dong-man that everyone else ignores, filling his emotional hunger with her support. Dong-man, in turn, reassures Eun-a, who suffers from fear of abandonment, realizing that the unidentifiable emotions she has fought alone were actually a silent "plea for help."

At a railroad crossing with the barriers down, Dong-man asks, "How does one acquire 'power'?" Eun-a replies that power comes "if you have someone you love." It suggests that true power isn't found in productivity or social standing. It is found in the courage to love someone for exactly who they are, completely independent of their "value" to the world. It’s a warm, resonant reminder that as long as we are trying, we are enough.