Lately, I’ve read a lot of paeans to cinematography in reviews and recaps that I must point something out here.

Cinematography is only one element of a drama, movie, or episode to VISUALLY communicate the meaning of the story.

It uses lighting, landscape, color palette, actors’ positioning, camera angles and effects, and a host of other details to make sense of the narrative. By heightening our emotional response to the visual images, it adds context to the written script and enhances our understanding of the characters.

Cinematography doesn’t just mean “beautiful” or “epic” or “touching” visuals. It must also convey a point.

Take for instance, these two images from the 100 Days My Prince.

An aside. Isn’t there anybody else annoyed with the title? I’m not a grammar nazi, but it IS awkwardly phrased. It should be My 100-Day Prince or My Prince of 100 Days or My Prince for 100 Days.

Consider those two images as bookends of the story.

In the opening scene, the CP Lee Yul is holding up his hand to catch the droplets of rain. The drought has ended and the rain, like liquid blessings from the gods, falls down on his kingdom. And his people must be happy because farming can start.

But he himself doesn’t look happy or relieved. Instead, he rushes off to fight a battle where he’s going to die.

In the ending scene, the girl Hong Shim is holding up her hand to catch cherry blossom petals, just like she once did when they were children. The cold winter has ended, and it’s springtime once more.

Veteran kdrama viewers know that there’s a superstition related to these cherry blossoms. That is, if a lover catches a falling cherry blossom petal in his or her palm, then true love will come true.  (Shout-out to the Goblin, and the Great Seducer viewers.)

Sixteen years ago, the young Hong Shim was delighted to catch a petal in her hand. Now, this older Hong Shim looks happy at first at the sight of the blooming cherry blossom tree and the petal showers. But as a petal drops on her open palm, she looks sad and wistful.

She then spots the CP staring at her and she startles and runs away like a frightened deer.

From these brief scenes, we’re given a preview of their characters.

Yes, the cinematography works here perfectly. But I’m not going to gush over the visuals. I’m not going to oooh-and-ahhh over the brilliant colors.

No. I’m going to applaud over the carefully created scenes to reveal the MEANING behind those scenes

Notice the colors? They’re contrasting.

The CP’s colors are dark and somber, and he cuts a solitary and lonely figure in that wooden pavilion of his. In contrast, Hong Shim is in the middle of “pretty”. Lol. She’s in springtime colors. And though she’s alone like the CP,  she exudes happiness and vibrancy. She’s attractive — that’s why JeWon spots her from the bridge.

So, what does this tells me? They are two people, uncomfortably enduring (in his case) and patiently waiting (in her case) for their fates to come bring their MISSING other half to them. Both have been faithful and their actions mirror each other. Their hands reach out but the other person isn’t there so they touch a proxy instead. Rain for him and the petal for her.

But FAITHFULLY, he keeps his promise to marry her even though she’s long been presumed dead. He’s distanced himself from the CPrincess and ensures the royal marriage is in name only.

And FAITHFULLY, she’s holding him (like she held onto the petal) to keep his promise to marry her. She’s rejected all other suitors and is willing to suffer insults and beatings for being an old-maid.

See that? Nice, eh? 

This is no earth-shattering revelation. Most kdrama romances have this premise: waiting for love to come. But the cinematography in this drama telegraphed this message in a very special and meaningful way.