Forget the hype machines and explosive finales — Netflix’s latest breakout hit didn’t need any of that.
Since its March 7 premiere, the series has racked up over 32.9 million views, hit the Top 10 charts in 42 countries, and landed a rare 100% audience score on Rotten Tomatoes and a solid 9.2/10 on IMDb. All without a single shootout, scandal, or love triangle meltdown.
Yes, this gentle, gut-punching Korean drama set against the lush backdrop of Jeju Island, has quietly become one of the most talked-about series of the year.
Instead, the show offers something far rarer — stillness. Check out the trailer below:
A beautifully slow-burning story about life, love, loss, and the passing of time, the show - called When Life Gives You Tangerines - spans five decades and tells the intimate journey of Oh Ae-sun and Yang Gwan-sik, childhood friends whose connection threads through years of shifting dreams, tragedies, and quiet joys.
IU, one of South Korea’s most beloved pop stars, leads the show with a raw, restrained performance that critics have called “magnetic” and “remarkably nuanced". She plays both the younger Ae-sun and, later, her daughter Geum-myeong — a dual role that showcases “a remarkable range as vastly different characters living through different times,” according to The Korea Herald.
Opposite her is Park Bo-gum as Gwan-sik, whose loyal, stoic love anchors the show’s emotional core. His portrayal was hailed as “lovely, steadfast,” with the kind of chemistry that doesn’t scream — it simmers. Their pre-filming bond-building clearly paid off. You feel every shared glance and unspoken regret.
Director Kim Won-seok (Signal, My Mister) described the series as “a tribute to the generations of grandmothers, grandfathers, fathers and mothers who have lived fiercely, and a song of encouragement for the daughters and sons who will navigate the world ahead.” That sentiment bleeds through every frame.
The story itself unfolds like the seasons. Literally. The 16 episodes are divided into four volumes — spring, summer, fall, and winter — charting the rhythm of life in a way that feels more like memory than plot.
There are no evil CEOs or amnesia subplots here. Just the small, slow heartbreaks of growing up, growing apart, and growing old.
That pacing has divided some viewers. As Decider wrote, “Those of us who aren’t die hard fans of K-dramas may struggle to sit through 12 episodes of a conflict-light slice-of-life story… At a certain point, we get the feeling that this show would have been better told in less episodes, or better yet, a long-ish feature film.”
But for many fans, that quiet rhythm is the point.
Over on X, one viewer wrote: "I don't think any drama had hit me like 'when life gives you tangerines' did in a long while [...] had me reflecting about different people in my life, especially my parents and how much I love and appreciate them."
A second added: "When Life Gives You Tangerines portrays love in different forms so beautifully each episode got me bawling my eyes out."
And a third tweeted: "When Life Gives You Tangerines is soft, bittersweet, and quietly powerful. Feels like a slow afternoon that stays with you. Not loud, just real. I never cry after watching shows, but this one got me. It hits deep in the most unexpected way."
“Ae-sun’s journey is bittersweet… it’s sad to see how life distanced her from her dreams, but joyful to see she found sweetness in life,” one Rotten Tomatoes reviewer noted.
The show doesn’t just focus on romance either. Themes of cultural identity, familial duty, aging, and resilience are woven throughout — bolstered by its stunning Jeju Island setting and a $40 million production budget, one of the highest ever for a K-drama.
As RogerEbert.com put it: “When Life Gives You Tangerines can’t be bothered with genres. It isn’t a melodrama or a comedy, a slice-of-life or a character study, a romance or a mystery. It’s a culmination of those things.”
The South China Morning Post called it “gripping and rewarding,” praising its ability to “masterfully bridge past and present, blurring the line between nostalgic reverie and pressing reality.”
Just don’t go into it expecting light escapism. This is a series that wants you to feel everything. Especially when Gwan-sik’s illness casts a devastating shadow over any hope the couple still holds.
It doesn’t give you answers. It doesn’t offer clean resolutions. But it does give you the kind of catharsis that only a show rooted in reality can provide.
So yeah, bring tissues.