John Master
Orange County
Laughs. Redemption. Courtship. Serotonin. Kiss at the end. And hair product. Lots of hair product.
The awkward, halting, hesitant romance at the core of I Will Knock You should endear itself to any BL fan who likes their rom-com strong both in Rom and in Com. Appreciation for the 1950s greaser look and for bright floral patterns in wardrobe design will only enhance the appeal of this witty series. Where many BLs resort to some form of “love at first sight” to persuade viewers that the lead characters dig each other, affection between Noey and Thi develops slowly. Rather than manifesting with sparks of passion, these two young men with very different personalities take time to understand one another. Their mutual attraction snuck up on both of them, even if veteran BL viewers saw it coming much earlier. In this case, that observation is not a complaint: we know who the main characters are; we know it’s a BL; we know main characters in BL series will end up together. The characters know none of that, of course. The series does not rush them into romance, so that when realization dawns on Noey and Thi, their emotions fit the story and plot. Theirs is a bond born of affinity, friendship, and mutual trust rather than one sold to the viewer via lustful glances despite minimal interaction as human beings. BL fans who prefer shirtless muscle boys frolicking in bathtubs should seek their fix of pale porn elsewhere. Those BL fans who like compelling character arcs that highlight contradictory impulses within an individual’s psychology will relish the slow-burning romance offered here. Both these characters are discovering who their adult selves will be, and that process of growing up almost overshadows their incipient romance. By pursuing this character angle, I Will Knock You delivers a story of first love that manages to feel different (in a good way) from the rest of BL.
The plot manifests most of the trappings of the enemies-to-lovers genre. Noey is a wannabe gangster, still in high school. A lazy, unmotivated student, a bully, and someone who regards fighting as a first-line of confrontation, Noey leads a gang of young thugs whose primary purpose appears to be brawling with rival gangs and terrorizing students weaker than they are. He breezes through his life with bluster and bravado, but his bothersome behavior burdens his mother. At wit’s end, she hires Thi to tutor her wayward son. Unbeknownst to her, the two have already tangled. Thi had run afoul of Noey and his gang when the college student disrupted Noey’s pursuit of a girl. We first meet Thi tutoring a group of high schoolers who are fearful of Noey and his band of bullies. The meek college student clearly wants no part of confrontation, but he twice overcomes his instinctive cowardice to stand up to Noey in defense of his students. Because this is a comedy, Thi had no idea the new pupil he was hired to help was the exact bully who already had it out for him. By the time each of them discovers their new “working” relationship, neither wants to disappoint Noey’s mother, desperate for something that will get through to her lunkheaded son. That something, in true BL fashion, will be Thi. Unlike many Bls, however, Thi exerts his influence not through the mythical medicine of loving him so very much, but by inspiring Noey to become a better person: a better student, better brother, better son. Thi’s expectations that Noey can be better drive Noey to self-improvement. Noey’s character arc is thus mostly about redemption and reform, as the ballistic bully discovers depth in himself he never knew he had. In realizing his own potential in life, Noey also realizes it was Thi who sparked that renaissance. This epiphany resolves him to start courting the older boy. For a wannabe thug, Noey manifests a startling gentleness and flair for big romantic gestures. Noey’s persistence even extends to inducting a horrified Thi into his gang. Noey confidently assumes he bestows a great honor, but Thi and the other gang members each have different grounds to find this development rather alarming. The first quartet of episodes primarily establishes the characters while they do not get along; the next few episodes set forth the thaw in their tutor-student dynamic as they become acquainted; and the final quartet depict Noey’s pursuit of the reluctant Thi. The emotionally rewarding finale pays off not only the long-simmering romance but also a surprising number of minor plot points from earlier episodes. That attention to both big narrative arcs and small details alike makes this finale one of the stronger series-enders in the annals of BL series-enders.
The project was written and directed by Champ Weerachit Thongila, whose BL bone fides include having written and directed Kiss Me Again and having directed 2Gether (series and movie). With I Will Knock You he returns to the theme of a mismatched pair falling for one another. Here, however, the central romance feels more nuanced and emotionally rich than the earlier two. IWKY shares some DNA with the earlier projects. Like Pete and Kao, Noey and Thi start as enemies, commence a complicated friendship, then romance blooms late. Like Tine and Sarawat, Noey and Thi experience some shifting in the dynamic of who pursues whom and why. Also like Tine and Sarawat, Noey and Thi worry about how their respective friend groups will view their relationship. Like both earlier couples, when Noey and Thi finally acknowledge their attraction, that moment feels entirely earned by the story and plot. Unlike those earlier couples, Noey and Thi are not peers. Thi, in particular, has misgivings when the younger boy pursues him. As a result, he never commits to Noey while the younger boy is still in high school. The series lacks the kind of NC scenes that have become common in recent BLs. In fact, the only true kiss between the actors arrives in an extended post-credit sequence of the final episode that serves as an epilogue to the story. (A really, really enjoyable epilogue, to be fair.) Whether the absence of the customary kiss scene or the newfangled NC scenes was chosen because writer Champ felt waiting made the story stronger or because having a 17 year-old actor (Tar) limited the options available to director Champ seems irrelevant. Not having those elements within the story necessitated selling this romantic comedy through character and story development, and I think that effort was a success. Where IWKY really distinguishes itself from Champ’s earlier BL projects is the strong comedic element that infuses the plot, especially in the earlier episodes. Moreover, the styling of the Watphlu gang—wardrobe, hair, physical mannerisms—must surely reflect the sensibility of the person who both wrote and directed the series, and I found the greaser vibe of these characters incredibly fun to watch.
Anchoring the entire series is a star turn from Tar Atiwat Saengtien. He inhabits Noey with a startling range. Tar pivots from fierceness to gentleness in the blink of an eye. Somehow, even when Noey blusters at his fiercest fierceness, one can still sense an uncertain, naïve kid lurking somewhere beneath the bravado. When Noey courts Pam and, later, Thi, Tar imbues the character with a suaveness copied from old movies and a confidence rooted in his own self-belief. It’s a funny performance, but a scene later, and the viewer can see that Noey’s confidence is largely a facade. When Tar plays Noey as a wounded soul, the performance elicits nothing but sympathy for a character who is, let’s face it, mostly a putz. Initially, I found off-putting the character’s penchant for intimidating those around him. The unsavory behavior from a lead character detracted from my enjoyment of the series until I realized somewhere about Episode 3 or 4 that I was riveted to the screen every time Noey was center stage. Thi watched Noey closely from a sense of self-preservation, constantly alert for danger warnings in the volatile kid’s behavior. I, however, watched Noey closely because Tar kept spinning the character in new and different ways. It was fascinating to try to figure out who the character truly was—which I think is the point: he himself was sorting through models of adulthood and trying to land on the one that fit. While my judgment at this writing may still be clouded by euphoria of the outstanding finale episode, I must deem Noey one of the most compelling BL protagonists ever devised. The vision for the character may belong to Champ, writer and director, but it is Tar who executed that vision.
I shall conclude this review by noting that I think IWKY may be one of the most Thai series I’ve yet seen. That is to say, I think only someone familiar with decades worth of Thai pop culture can fully appreciate all the Easter Eggs writer/director Champ stuffed in. I had the distinct sense much content was going right over my head. Noey, for example, had an unlikely fixation with old movies and vintage music—especially the kind of sappy romantic stuff of which BL is a contemporary iteration. (His courtship of Pam in ep 2 includes a hilariously bad song and dance number of an absurdly old tune. Loved the 1940s radio microphone, though.) The character's affinity for nostalgia is apparent to anyone, but only someone conversant with the old posters that adorn the walls of Noey’s bedroom can hope to figure out what subtle messages are being conveyed by the inclusion of those specific references. Likewise, Noey’s connection to his local temple needs unpacking for us foreigners. The gang’s name “Watphlu” seems to incorporate the Thai word for temple (wat), which probably is no coincidence. Right? Stuff is happening here. I’m sure of it. I just need a Thai person to explain to me what it all means.
Oh. One reference I absolutely did get. On several occasions in the later episodes, Noey and Thi almost share their first kiss. That the kiss never quite materializes works for this particular series and for these characters. The five-year age gap between the high school freshman and the college student is a gap too wide for comfort. So, Thi’s insistence that they wait worked for this series. But no one who makes BL has forgotten the wrath of fandom when 2Gether concluded its ballyhooed run with a paltry high-five, least of all the director of that series—who is also the director of this series. On multiple occasions, the two actors lean toward one another, their lips about to connect. Only for some last minute intervention to interrupt the inevitable moment when the two young men succumb to the attraction they both clearly felt. These repeated fake-outs seem certain to induce eye-rolls and anguish from veteran BL fans. Clearly, Champ knows exactly what his audience wants, expects, and demands. He just wasn’t giving us that. Finally, the post-credits epilogue begins a series of time jumps to show how the characters’ lives fared. The final sequence in that series depicts Noey’s college graduation. At last, Noey and Thi stand upon an equal footing. They seize the occasion to deliver a cathartic smooch for viewers. Overlaying this glorious moment we hear a voiceover from Thi, “I hope that will make everyone happy.” And that line must indubitably represent a sly reference to the backlash over the infamous “high-five.” Now that, my fellow BL enthusiasts, is how you do an Easter Egg.
The plot manifests most of the trappings of the enemies-to-lovers genre. Noey is a wannabe gangster, still in high school. A lazy, unmotivated student, a bully, and someone who regards fighting as a first-line of confrontation, Noey leads a gang of young thugs whose primary purpose appears to be brawling with rival gangs and terrorizing students weaker than they are. He breezes through his life with bluster and bravado, but his bothersome behavior burdens his mother. At wit’s end, she hires Thi to tutor her wayward son. Unbeknownst to her, the two have already tangled. Thi had run afoul of Noey and his gang when the college student disrupted Noey’s pursuit of a girl. We first meet Thi tutoring a group of high schoolers who are fearful of Noey and his band of bullies. The meek college student clearly wants no part of confrontation, but he twice overcomes his instinctive cowardice to stand up to Noey in defense of his students. Because this is a comedy, Thi had no idea the new pupil he was hired to help was the exact bully who already had it out for him. By the time each of them discovers their new “working” relationship, neither wants to disappoint Noey’s mother, desperate for something that will get through to her lunkheaded son. That something, in true BL fashion, will be Thi. Unlike many Bls, however, Thi exerts his influence not through the mythical medicine of loving him so very much, but by inspiring Noey to become a better person: a better student, better brother, better son. Thi’s expectations that Noey can be better drive Noey to self-improvement. Noey’s character arc is thus mostly about redemption and reform, as the ballistic bully discovers depth in himself he never knew he had. In realizing his own potential in life, Noey also realizes it was Thi who sparked that renaissance. This epiphany resolves him to start courting the older boy. For a wannabe thug, Noey manifests a startling gentleness and flair for big romantic gestures. Noey’s persistence even extends to inducting a horrified Thi into his gang. Noey confidently assumes he bestows a great honor, but Thi and the other gang members each have different grounds to find this development rather alarming. The first quartet of episodes primarily establishes the characters while they do not get along; the next few episodes set forth the thaw in their tutor-student dynamic as they become acquainted; and the final quartet depict Noey’s pursuit of the reluctant Thi. The emotionally rewarding finale pays off not only the long-simmering romance but also a surprising number of minor plot points from earlier episodes. That attention to both big narrative arcs and small details alike makes this finale one of the stronger series-enders in the annals of BL series-enders.
The project was written and directed by Champ Weerachit Thongila, whose BL bone fides include having written and directed Kiss Me Again and having directed 2Gether (series and movie). With I Will Knock You he returns to the theme of a mismatched pair falling for one another. Here, however, the central romance feels more nuanced and emotionally rich than the earlier two. IWKY shares some DNA with the earlier projects. Like Pete and Kao, Noey and Thi start as enemies, commence a complicated friendship, then romance blooms late. Like Tine and Sarawat, Noey and Thi experience some shifting in the dynamic of who pursues whom and why. Also like Tine and Sarawat, Noey and Thi worry about how their respective friend groups will view their relationship. Like both earlier couples, when Noey and Thi finally acknowledge their attraction, that moment feels entirely earned by the story and plot. Unlike those earlier couples, Noey and Thi are not peers. Thi, in particular, has misgivings when the younger boy pursues him. As a result, he never commits to Noey while the younger boy is still in high school. The series lacks the kind of NC scenes that have become common in recent BLs. In fact, the only true kiss between the actors arrives in an extended post-credit sequence of the final episode that serves as an epilogue to the story. (A really, really enjoyable epilogue, to be fair.) Whether the absence of the customary kiss scene or the newfangled NC scenes was chosen because writer Champ felt waiting made the story stronger or because having a 17 year-old actor (Tar) limited the options available to director Champ seems irrelevant. Not having those elements within the story necessitated selling this romantic comedy through character and story development, and I think that effort was a success. Where IWKY really distinguishes itself from Champ’s earlier BL projects is the strong comedic element that infuses the plot, especially in the earlier episodes. Moreover, the styling of the Watphlu gang—wardrobe, hair, physical mannerisms—must surely reflect the sensibility of the person who both wrote and directed the series, and I found the greaser vibe of these characters incredibly fun to watch.
Anchoring the entire series is a star turn from Tar Atiwat Saengtien. He inhabits Noey with a startling range. Tar pivots from fierceness to gentleness in the blink of an eye. Somehow, even when Noey blusters at his fiercest fierceness, one can still sense an uncertain, naïve kid lurking somewhere beneath the bravado. When Noey courts Pam and, later, Thi, Tar imbues the character with a suaveness copied from old movies and a confidence rooted in his own self-belief. It’s a funny performance, but a scene later, and the viewer can see that Noey’s confidence is largely a facade. When Tar plays Noey as a wounded soul, the performance elicits nothing but sympathy for a character who is, let’s face it, mostly a putz. Initially, I found off-putting the character’s penchant for intimidating those around him. The unsavory behavior from a lead character detracted from my enjoyment of the series until I realized somewhere about Episode 3 or 4 that I was riveted to the screen every time Noey was center stage. Thi watched Noey closely from a sense of self-preservation, constantly alert for danger warnings in the volatile kid’s behavior. I, however, watched Noey closely because Tar kept spinning the character in new and different ways. It was fascinating to try to figure out who the character truly was—which I think is the point: he himself was sorting through models of adulthood and trying to land on the one that fit. While my judgment at this writing may still be clouded by euphoria of the outstanding finale episode, I must deem Noey one of the most compelling BL protagonists ever devised. The vision for the character may belong to Champ, writer and director, but it is Tar who executed that vision.
I shall conclude this review by noting that I think IWKY may be one of the most Thai series I’ve yet seen. That is to say, I think only someone familiar with decades worth of Thai pop culture can fully appreciate all the Easter Eggs writer/director Champ stuffed in. I had the distinct sense much content was going right over my head. Noey, for example, had an unlikely fixation with old movies and vintage music—especially the kind of sappy romantic stuff of which BL is a contemporary iteration. (His courtship of Pam in ep 2 includes a hilariously bad song and dance number of an absurdly old tune. Loved the 1940s radio microphone, though.) The character's affinity for nostalgia is apparent to anyone, but only someone conversant with the old posters that adorn the walls of Noey’s bedroom can hope to figure out what subtle messages are being conveyed by the inclusion of those specific references. Likewise, Noey’s connection to his local temple needs unpacking for us foreigners. The gang’s name “Watphlu” seems to incorporate the Thai word for temple (wat), which probably is no coincidence. Right? Stuff is happening here. I’m sure of it. I just need a Thai person to explain to me what it all means.
Oh. One reference I absolutely did get. On several occasions in the later episodes, Noey and Thi almost share their first kiss. That the kiss never quite materializes works for this particular series and for these characters. The five-year age gap between the high school freshman and the college student is a gap too wide for comfort. So, Thi’s insistence that they wait worked for this series. But no one who makes BL has forgotten the wrath of fandom when 2Gether concluded its ballyhooed run with a paltry high-five, least of all the director of that series—who is also the director of this series. On multiple occasions, the two actors lean toward one another, their lips about to connect. Only for some last minute intervention to interrupt the inevitable moment when the two young men succumb to the attraction they both clearly felt. These repeated fake-outs seem certain to induce eye-rolls and anguish from veteran BL fans. Clearly, Champ knows exactly what his audience wants, expects, and demands. He just wasn’t giving us that. Finally, the post-credits epilogue begins a series of time jumps to show how the characters’ lives fared. The final sequence in that series depicts Noey’s college graduation. At last, Noey and Thi stand upon an equal footing. They seize the occasion to deliver a cathartic smooch for viewers. Overlaying this glorious moment we hear a voiceover from Thi, “I hope that will make everyone happy.” And that line must indubitably represent a sly reference to the backlash over the infamous “high-five.” Now that, my fellow BL enthusiasts, is how you do an Easter Egg.
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