Even Mr. Kim and Man-su were once young and fierce

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Even Mr. Kim and Man-su were once young and fierce

Published: 25 Nov. 2025, 00:03

Audio report: written by reporters, read by AI

Jung Hyun-mok

The author is a senior culture reporter at the JoongAng Ilbo.

Every time I watch the drama “The Dream Life of Mr. Kim” (2025), often shortened to “Kim Bu-jang Iyagi,” I feel a familiar ache.
The struggles of Kim Nak-su, played by Ryu Seung-ryong, do not feel like someone else’s life. I suspect many viewers feel the same. The storyline — promotion battles, demotions, voluntary retirement pressures, failed real estate ventures — feels so realistic that some say it plays like a documentary. Younger viewers are invested as well, wondering whether similar battles await them.

A scene from the hit JTBC drama series ″The Dream Life of Mr. Kim″ [SLL]

Mr. Kim is hardly the only one unprepared for what novelist Song Hee-koo, author of the original novel with a title that translates roughly to “The Story of Manager Kim Who Works at a Major Company and Owns a Home in Seoul” (2021), described as “an era in which assets outweigh labor in importance.” Many breadwinners shrink a little when they see friends who struck gold in stocks or now own multiple apartments through savvy property investment.

The scene of Mr. Kim accepting voluntary retirement evokes Park Chan-wook’s film “No Other Choice” (2025), in which Yoon Man-su, played by Lee Byung-hun, is dismissed overnight after 25 years at a paper company. Man-su, who once took pride in his beautiful home and happy family, used to say he had “achieved everything.” Likewise, Mr. Kim, a 25-year veteran at a major firm, believed that “a manager at a big company who buys a Seoul apartment and puts his kids through college has lived a worthy life.” Yet the sense of achievement that comforted both men turned out to be little more than a sandcastle.

Mr. Kim and Man-su are diligent salarymen who believed that hard work would be rewarded. Their failure was not moral but generational — they simply could not keep pace with the shifting tides. Many viewers saw themselves in Mr. Kim shouting, after being reassigned to a rural factory, “I’m still useful!” Some joked that Jang Geu-rae, the rookie protagonist of “Misaeng” (2014), would probably become another Manager Kim after 25 years in the corporate world.

There is an added coincidence. Mr. Kim, born in 1972, and Man-su, born in 1970, are contemporaries of the so-called Generation X, known for rejecting older norms and embracing self-expression. Kang Tae-poong, the protagonist of the drama “Typhoon Family” (2025), aired on tvN, is also a 1972-er. Once part of the youthful “orange tribe,” he struggles to revive his late father’s trading company during the Asian financial crisis of 1997. During the same time frame, the fictional Mr. Kim was entering a major corporation with the determination to “devote his life to the company.”

Watching “Taepoong Trading,” I found myself thinking that Mr. Kim and Man-su were not always treated like damp fallen leaves. They too once burned brightly in love and work, fighting with passion against the harsh winds of their time. Then and now, they have waged fierce battles for survival.

As young adults, they faced the storm of the financial crisis head-on. Now, burdened with supporting their families, they are struggling through an unforgiving landscape of low growth and endless competition. Born during the most crowded birth years, intense competition was practically their fate.

They also weathered times of political upheaval and the global financial crisis. Through these waves, they became the backbone of society. Many stand at the edge of the “sandwich generation,” the last to support aging parents yet the first unlikely to receive support from their own children.

The label “Young 40 (or 50),” used to mock them as hypocritical or self-interested, deepens the exhaustion of a generation already under strain. The anxiety felt by today’s young people is understandable. They live in a time full of uncertainty and instability, not in the era of steady growth experienced by older cohorts. But directing frustration or a sense of deprivation toward older generations does nothing to ease intergenerational conflict nor solve underlying problems.

A scene from director Park Chan-wook's film ″No Other Choice″ [CJ ENM]

All of us are fighting our own battles as we navigate life. Regardless of age, every generation now stands at a crossroads. What matters in such rough waters is empathy, understanding and solidarity. The poster line for “Typhoon Family” — “I didn’t start this for myself” — resonates deeply. The sweat and tears of people of all ranks banding together to save a company on the brink of collapse remind us of values long forgotten.

My favorite moment in “Kim Bu-jang Iyagi,” which airs on JTBC, is the scene in which Mr. Kim embraces his wife Hajin, played by Myung Se-bin. He returns home in the middle of the day with a packed suitcase, and she wraps him in a warm hug.
“What are you sorry for? You’ve done well, Manager Kim,” she says. Their tears say much more. Hajin may be thinking, “Everyone knows your dedication. That is enough. An executive title is nothing. That too is a sandcastle.”

In the remaining episodes, I hope the drama shows Mr. Kim escaping the “comparison trap,” reclaiming his authentic self, and beginning a second act that comforts the weary shoulders of middle-aged viewers. Bravo to life. Bravo to our shared lives.

This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.