kdrama Final Table

Content centered around the culinary arts has recently captured the intense attention of audiences across both broadcasting networks and OTT platforms. It is no exaggeration to say that the Republic of Korea is currently experiencing a golden age of cooking survival shows and gastronomy-related programming, with a vast array of formats flooding the market. Amidst this trend, a new drama putting the culinary world front and center has premiered to greet home viewers. This is none other than the weekend drama The Final Table, which made its ambitious debut on JTBC. Even before the work aired, public attention was sharply focused on whether this drama could surpass the explosive syndrome recently triggered by cooking variety shows. In fact, during pre-release promotional campaigns and media exposure, viewers encountered promotional messaging hinting that the show would deliver far more thrilling and dramatic entertainment than existing culinary variety programs.

However, as public expectations run high, the discerning eyes and standards of viewers who encounter the work have naturally reached a peak. Interestingly, the drama's title, The Final Table, shares its exact name with an existing cooking survival entertainment show on the global OTT platform Netflix. Furthermore, Netflix’s original cooking variety show Culinary Class Wars, which shook South Korea over the past few years, demonstrated an incomparable and massive ripple effect in terms of box-office success. It is never an easy feat for a fictional drama to generate a more immersive experience and achieve greater success than a reality program filled with the blood, sweat, tears, and raw emotions of real individuals. Of course, if a drama's narrative and dramatic devices mesh together flawlessly, it is not entirely impossible to outstrip the popularity of variety shows. Even so, after directly watching episodes 1 and 2 of the series, my honest impression was that apprehension and skeptical glances outweighed my expectations.

In particular, watching the premiere episode left me with a distinct sense of disappointment and regret. Generally speaking, dramas that utilize cooking competitions as their main plot device rarely achieve blockbuster success on the small screen. Cooking contests or internal kitchen political struggles are most effective when employed as supplementary elements that inject tension for a few episodes within the broader narrative of a drama. If a cooking competition forms the core framework running through the entire plot of a work, viewers naturally begin to compare it to the vividness of real-life reality television. Consequently, a giant question mark was raised from the very first episode as to whether this fictional drama could completely surpass the raw emotional resonance and tension of the preceding Culinary Class Wars craze.

The most critical factor determining the success or failure of this production is whether the drama can overcome and transcend the raw experience and authentic vividness of real kitchen environments. Unfortunately, right from the opening moments of the first episode, the narrative proceeded through somewhat contrived and extreme makjang (implausible/shocking) elements, causing viewers to tilt their heads in confusion. Moreover, because the flow of the story moved forward forcibly without securing sufficient narrative justification, it was impossible to genuinely sympathize with the emotional lines of the characters. The genesis of the story is filled with a rather cliché and provocative premise: a father, once celebrated as a renowned chef, is caught up in the conspiracies and framed plots of others, ultimately driving him to suicide. The shock and grief experienced by the protagonist in the face of her father's unjust death and sudden tragedy are understandable themes in themselves.

However, the actions of Choi Song-yi, portrayed by actress Hong Hwa-yeon, as she scurries around in every direction to resolve this tragedy, proved difficult for viewers to accept within the bounds of common sense. Choi Song-yi, brought to life by Hong Hwa-yeon, is depicted as a character who vows to reclaim her father's honor and seek revenge. Naturally, one can understand that having lost a beloved family member left her emotionally devastated and completely bereft of rational judgment. Even so, the series of actions she displays in the drama felt so forced and impulsive that they left audiences feeling bewildered. Above all, the setup in which every single staff member has abandoned the kitchen, leaving a large restaurant completely empty except for a single lonely cook to manage operations, completely defies reality. Judging by the scale of the dining hall captured on camera, it was a fairly large space capable of seating approximately 40 to 50 guests comfortably.

No matter how much one accounts for dramatic license and the need to build narrative tension, the notion of operating such a wide space alone without professional assistants or front-of-house staff is nonsensical from a logical standpoint. In the real world, no matter how small or modest a restaurant might be, at least two individuals are essential to divide cooking and serving duties. Thus, keeping this massive establishment open with just a single person felt sufficient to break complete immersion in the story. Doubtless, the writer's underlying intention was to visually emphasize how close the restaurant was to bankruptcy and complete closure—a desperate situation indeed. Even so, a production must maintain a minimum boundary of plausibility so viewers can nod along with the basic premise, and it was in this very detail that the finesse of the directing felt deeply lacking.

Amidst this unfolding progression, the character Kang Han, played by actor Ahn Hyo-seop, was completely unidentifiable in terms of who he truly was during the first episode. It is only as the story moves into the second episode that it is finally revealed he is a genius chef who commands immense fame in the American culinary scene. What is absurd is that, genius chef or not, he brazenly waltzes into someone else's kitchen—a business establishment that is not his own—and stubbornly insists on cooking as he pleases without permission. While this was likely another device intended to heighten dramatic tension and emphasize the eccentric traits of a genius character, it stepped far outside the bounds of common sense and proved difficult to digest. Thanks to the explosion of professional cooking variety shows over the past few years, the audience's standards regarding gastronomy and kitchen management have risen to an all-time high.

Given that viewers are already well aware of how rigorously real chefs maintain kitchen discipline, hygiene, and teamwork, such contrived setups inevitably provoke a counterproductive sense of rejection. As the episodes progress, the cooking competition—the core premise of the drama—is finally launched, depicting the sequence of events that leads Kang Han to participate. During this process, Jeong Seon-won, played by actress Jung Yu-jin, suddenly appears before Choi Song-yi at Familia to make an unexpected request for assistance. Objectively speaking, however, Choi Song-yi and Kang Han have never met before and share zero points of contact. Despite this, Seon-won abruptly tracks down Choi Song-yi and pesters her with pleas to help Kang Han, steering the narrative into awkward territory.

Kang Han is established as a character harboring deep resentment and a bitter grudge against Pyungyeon Group, the massive conglomerate that organized the competition. The fact that his goal of seeking revenge against Pyungyeon Group aligns with the situation serves as the sole plausible justification for their alliance. For a drama to succeed, the narrative experienced by its protagonists must above all elicit deep empathy from the audience, allowing viewers to fully immerse themselves in their emotions and cheer them on. However, the process by which these characters meet and join hands felt so artificial and clumsy that it failed to evoke any emotional resonance for me. Because this central narrative failed to secure persuasive footing, any lingering expectations for the remaining episodes evaporated entirely by the time I reached the end of episode two.

Ultimately, the core element that this drama must successfully carry forward to capture viewer interest is the process of seeking revenge through the medium of the cooking competition. How the protagonists overcome their conflicts, prove their worth through culinary skill, and deliver a sense of catharsis against corporate antagonists will serve as the sole decisive key to this production's success. Should this sequence of revenge and culinary showdowns unfold in an engaging, thrilling, and emotionally moving manner, it is not entirely impossible for the drama to wash away early concerns and achieve mainstream success. Nevertheless, looking back at past cooking-related dramas broadcast on the small screen, it is also true that very few have left a strong impression or proven genuinely entertaining. In fact, initial scorecard metrics show a very sluggish start with viewership ratings lingering around the 1%, and the series is currently available for viewing on Disney+. It remains to be seen whether The Final Table can successfully overcome all these early shortcomings and carve out an opportunity for a rebound as the second half approaches.