Why Are We Fascinated By The “Villain” In Thai Boys’ Love Sensation Sequel I Promised You The Moon?
Co-written by emlary and Dancing Tree; edited by Sella
At the end of 2020, Thai teen drama I Told Sunset About You (ITSAY) made headlines across the continents and garnered several awards with its retro aesthetics and critically acclaimed depiction of adolescent sexual turmoil and eventually a beautiful romance between two high school seniors. I Promised You The Moon (IPYTM), a five-episode follow-up, airs half a year later, bringing two young boys from the paradise-like yet secluded Phuket Island to the buzzing Bangkok metropolitan. Once there, adulthood challenges from both their brand new college life and an unchartered territory of retaining an established relationship await them. Instead of maintaining the happily-ever-after fairytale a lot of fans anticipate based on the promising ending of ITSAY, the showrunners make a drastic change as the scenery changes, leading to a polarization of the fandom and drawing some sharp rebuke as the biggest sophomore slump ever.
Among the new characters introduced in IPYTM, Oabnithi Wiwattanawarang (nickname Oab), who plays Jai, catches our attention. As the villain in a romance, a.k.a. someone hindering the protagonists’ romantic relationship, he’s easily targeted. The hatred coming from the fandom is overwhelming. Yet Oab does an excellent job playing the role of this charming, complicated and mysterious character. Let’s explain how his portrait of Jai steals our hearts in an unprecedented way.
The following analysis contains spoilers from IPYTM.
The most fascinating thing about Jai is him being multi-layered, and non-binary. As a friend/college mate, he’s tender and caring, he eases the tension when Teh picks up Oh-aew for giving up acting, he tries to be a mediator between Teh and Khim/Top; yet he’s restrained, he doesn’t talk much about himself, none of his friends know the details of his personal life. As a theater major, he’s soft, relaxed, and funny when he’s on the stage, as well as devoted, ambitious and aggressive when it comes to chasing his dream. As an individual, he embraces some unconventional, even controversial relationships, and apparently, he’s sexually fluid. He’s a lot of things, none of which can be typically ascribed to a gender. He has very beautiful facial features, the bushy eyebrows and big, bright eyes are strikingly masculine, but stand in a stark contrast to how he can look soft and tender the next moment. He’s a walking mystery.
The rehearsal-turn-kiss scene in episode 3 highlights the new director’s ambition, coupled with the nuanced acting of two young actors, creating an atmosphere of delicacy. It’s exquisite, enchanting, morally challenging, and done perceptively. Additionally, the build-up to the kiss is very genuine, which outshines Teh and Oh-aew’s much sidelined storyline in season 2. The workshop diary is a brilliant idea to let them open up and eventually bring them closer to each other. Teh looks up to the senior, who has studied, practiced and worked alongside him for nearly three years. He idolizes him, striving for his approval by trying his best to be good for him because they are chasing the same dream. He’s eager to see Jai succeed the same way Akin’s happy for Fang’s success in the play. The change of Teh’s sentiment toward Jai is gradual. He’s craving validation from the person he adores as a senior, which might be mixed with another kind of affection. This is what a meaningful arc of a story looks like. It isn’t simply written to stir up things between Teh and Oh-aew, it isn’t a silly fling. The outcry from viewers after the release of the episode has actually solidified the successful delivery of the scene, similar to the majority reaction to Teh’s retreating/self-denying in ITSAY. It shows that viewers recognize the sentiment, the undertone that Teh’s already shifting both physically and emotionally. In other words, it makes viewers believe the genuineness of the emotion and desire the two guys in a drama rehearsal have for each other. That’s why they are so outraged. To make such a difficult scene conceivable is the goal any creative team including screenwriters, directors and actors pursue.
That’s also why Jai praises Teh. At that very moment, Jai wants Teh to disappear; he’s no longer Teh, and Jai’s no longer Jai either. They transform into the two characters romantically entangled as they are described in Jai’s script. And the best part is that Jai makes it clear gender is irrelevant when it comes to the connection, he asks Teh to “remember this feeling, and use it in the scene (with a female co-star).” Ideally, a good actor could become the role she or he’s playing, and real life experiences and memories should serve as a helpful reference to enhance the credibility of the role, not as a blockade.
The ambiguity between fiction and reality also contributes to enrich the scene by giving it various nuances. It feels real although it starts and ends as a rehearsal session. It’s so difficult to pinpoint when exactly Teh and Jai get into or out of their characters, respectively. It’s even impossible to distinguish their real feelings for each other from their characters’. It’s a continuation of both authentic action/reaction and acting, all intertwined. It seems off for one moment, then it’s on again with even more intensity. All that makes some viewers who expected lovey-dovey romance more furious. The thin line between being oneself and being emotionally in-character could be extremely tricky for a rookie actor like Teh. He has to use his own experience of love to get into the role, as well as honor the boundary between the play and reality to get out of it again, otherwise it could have a negative impact on his personal relationship in real life. At the time, Teh is under enormous stress to search for anything that could help him relive the moments of falling in love. And it’s Jai that stays by his side, a senior who shares his dream and is queer as well. A simple knee touch, a break-in at the restricted riverside area, these small things in everyday life also play a part in Teh’s reliving of being in love. The first big sign pops up when both of them hide behind a garden terrace from a patrol officer. The close-ups of Jai’s facial features and the change of background music bring viewers into Teh’s shoes. The empathy works and viewers realize it’s this moment when Teh starts to have feelings for Jai.
Viewers condemn it by calling it cheating, wrong, God forbidden. Doesn’t Teh know that as well? Doesn’t Jai? Oh-aew is even helping him redesign the poster for his play.
Though Jai/Teh isn’t the endgame, it’s still a very bold move, creatively speaking. It teases the idea of polyamorous relationships, defying the over-glorified “You can only love one person” fantasy of its target audience, mostly young cis women, adherents of monogamy, a dominantly heterosexual social practice. The popular narrative of “One true love” in romance fictions, chick flicks and nowadays Boys’ Love, is totally smashed, replaced by a meaningful and deep connection between Jai and Teh when the latter is still in an established relationship. When Jai assures Teh during the dressing room pep talk, “You’ve become my Akin (me),” it’s the way a very reserved person like Jai gradually opens up to Teh that makes their bonding so compelling. It’s beautiful in its own way.
What’s new in ep 3 is that Jai plays an important role… He’s a kind of person who looks like a regular guy. But there’s a wall concealing what’s really inside of him. — Tossaphon Riantong, director of IPYTM
What’s most mesmerizing is Oab’s truthful, nuanced acting. His performance not only creates a space for interpretations of the unresolved (partially sexual, but not entirely) tension between the two roles, but also casts an ambiguity between the fact that Jai’s clearly aware of Teh’s affection and the rather calm manner he reacts around Teh. He perfectly fits the role of “a kind of person who looks like a regular guy but there’s a wall concealing what’s really inside of him,” a character description from the director. From sharing his private life, the source material of his play, with Teh, to his concerned expression after finding the particular way Teh looks at him as they huddle together behind the garden terrace; from the sweet looks he exchanges with Teh after drinking the plum wine together for the first time and imagining their future collaboration like Leung Chiu-wai and Wong Kar-wai, to the relaxed look afterwards, when he sits against the mirror; from the slight surprise following Teh kissing him without getting consent first, to kissing Teh back more passionately right after seeing Teh’s bewilderment, maybe also embarrassment, the interpretation of these acts may vary. Sometimes it feels like he’s falling for Teh as well, and sometimes it’s purely a senior guiding his junior through his acting block. Oab’s acting is fascinating, layered and dynamic.
All the baffling thoughts regarding Teh’s mixed feelings for both the real life person and fictional character, Jai recognizes them. Has Teh experienced the increasingly blurring line between reality and acting, the almost indistinguishable sentiment and desire he needs to carry on and off-stage? It’s okay, it’ll be fine. He shows Teh a direction. Following him, the impossible, restraints, taboos, and the burning feelings and desires that would come to a dead end in real life, will be allowed, even welcomed, when they’re acting on the stage, and only in that specific moment and space. That’s what creativity is about, the moment when any artist feels the closest to being God. As an artist, “I” doesn’t exist anymore yet it’s “I” who completely devote “myself” into the work.
But one needs to keep in mind that it has to end with the show’s conclusion. It’s how an actor masters the art of acting. Whether Jai falls for Teh during the process doesn’t really matter once Teh grasps the essence of it.
Is it a manipulative relationship after all? Oab is so good at portraying a character in all his facets. Jai’s a good friend, also a mentor to Teh. He clearly has the upper hand in their director/actor and senior/junior dynamics. With his ambitious plans for his future, he challenges, even provokes Teh in a way that benefits them both. At the same time, he draws a line between acting and reality. Does Jai know Teh wouldn’t be able to separate the two things? Does he use Teh’s eagerness to please the senior, to make the senior proud at that time? Maybe. But the way Teh gets emotionally attached to a more mature, charismatic peer is totally natural. Until he gets too carried away.
Compared to episode 3 and 4, the first two episodes are rather bland, which on the other hand fulfill the mission of transforming two protagonists from being head over heels in love to coping with a dreary established relationship. The latter is just like a night with endless dull blackness, and the only thing that lights up the dark sky is the moon. It’s right there yet untouchable, as the unfaltering love Teh promised Oh-aew. Then here comes Jai, as bright as the sun, whose profile in the opening credit is also highlighted in orange, noticeably different from the violet/turquoise aurora-like highlight for Oh-aew and Teh. All the makeup, lighting and close-ups in episode 3 and 4 give the character a sense of brightness, making him shine like Apollo, the God of the sun. There’s another possible parallel, the aurora, caused by the ionization and excitation of charged particles into the upper atmosphere brought by solar wind, as magnificent as it is, it’s short-lived; and the glittering spark ignited when Teh’s pursuit of acting collides with Jai and his play, is also temporary. No one wants to stay in the dark forever, freezing high-altitude regions where aurora occurs, which also applies to artists. The moment when one’s possessed by the passion of creating art is very beautiful, but no one can maintain the status permanently, otherwise one would be overwhelmed. Artists are mortals after all, who need to take a step back to everyday life.
Since the start of his search of reliving the passion of love for his role, Teh hasn’t been able to take a step back and honor the boundary between the play and reality when it’s necessary. Unfortunately, he can’t find it with his real life partner because it’s been lost for a long time between Oh-aew and him. It’s Jai who works so hard to chase the same goal alongside him that triggers him, gives him butterflies. Half of the job is done with Oh-aew (by having sex with him after a long time of abstinence), yet Teh manages to separate emotion from desire. Emotionally, he’s only obsessed with Jai. He knows perfectly well that Jai’s leaving soon. When they have the first drink, he says he won’t be able to taste the plum wine again in six months because Jai will be studying abroad by then. There’s no them, it’s not in his plan, just like Jai never planned to spend ten years with James. Teh only wants to enjoy the moment, balancing between the guy he worships and emotionally connects with at work/college, and his longtime boyfriend in the safe zone/home.
On the other end of the equation, Jai understands the sentiment as well, maybe too well. He immediately catches the unusual look Teh casts him behind the garden terrace; and when Teh is about to burst during their rehearsal, he slightly clenches his jaws as if he’s determined to do whatever it takes to guide the junior through the mental obstacle. Oab’s performance is always detailed and spot-on. Instead of turning away from the torrent of Teh’s emotions, Jai decides to engage with him. He sees Teh as a junior that needs his guidance, not a specific individual, which, unfortunately, Teh can’t tell. So he gives Teh the positive feedback the junior has been desperately looking for after their first awkward kiss, seeming lost and embarrassed and wondering if he did it all wrong — Jai kisses him back, for his play. And right after that, he kindly reminds Teh to remember the feeling and use it in the scene. It’s personal and intimate yet it’s for work (and his dream). He tries to teach Teh to separate creative passion from normal life. And that is also why Jai has to turn Teh down so gravely, decisively yet earnestly, after the young actor begs for his acknowledgement of their genuine romantic link. Regardless of whether he has (or had) feelings for Teh, he keeps his composure through the last bit of their talk in the passage downstairs, contrasting the junior’s glaring anguish. Because he believes that’s the best way out for the both, or three of them in real life. Again, Oab’s nuanced acting perfectly conveys all the necessary details, leaving the audience enough space to interpret the nature of their relationship. With his superb acting, Oab takes the viewers on a wild roller coaster run during the private talk scene, starting when the tension between the two characters accelerates to the tipping point, ending at Jai parting ways with Teh. That’s why we’re glued to every scene of him. Bravo!
Another pinnacle of the Jai/Teh arc comes right after the talk. When Teh’s singing Black Sea with Oh-aew in the bar, yet he can’t help but desperately stare at Jai on the floor, he can’t take his eyes off the senior. Jai just told him it’s over, the play ended. But nothing can stop a roaring torrent of feelings, no matter if it’s love, worship or regret (like in Billkin’s solo music video of Fake News, Teh smashes a jar of plum wine.) It’s like Teh’s possessed. The passion is so powerful that he can’t hear his boyfriend sing a love song by his side, can’t see a roomful of friends and colleagues. Jai’s the only one in his eyes at the very moment. He gazes at him, without any grudge; and Jai meets his gaze, without aloofness. They are exchanging the longing for the short-lived sparks and connection they had. What they shared in that brief period is about trust, intimacy and the experience of working side by side to achieve the same goal, maybe as well as desires. It’s so beautiful because that’s also the rarest, most intense, spontaneous psychological experience humans can get. They haven’t said a single thing, they’ve said a million things. Teh fancied Jai, at least the idea of Jai, a playwright, a director, someone who knew him better than himself. But what he really can’t let go of at that heartbreaking moment, is their connection throughout the production process of Jai’s play. Teh’s indistinct, mostly unspoken feelings for Jai are the best part of the entire season in terms of creative writing, it’s complicated, fragile, and most importantly, transgressive.
Overall, Jai’s probably the hardest villain to play. He needs to be insanely good to be “the bad guy”, to keep a coming-of-age/romance drama interesting. Oab has absolutely nailed it with his talent and experience, and we’ve absolutely fallen in love with his acting.
