Honestly, if you haven’t seen Jo In-sung cry while leaning against a wall in a long coat, have you even watched a K-drama? That Winter, The Wind Blows isn't just another entry in the "Hallyu" wave of the early 2010s. It’s a mood. It’s a specific, chilly, aesthetic-heavy masterpiece that somehow made a premise about a conman pretending to be a blind woman's brother feel like the most romantic thing on television.
It’s been over a decade since it aired on SBS. Usually, dramas from 2013 start to look a little dusty by now. The phones are huge, the fashion is questionable, and the tropes feel tired. But this one? It holds up.
People still talk about the "Cotton Candy Kiss." They still talk about the cinematography. There’s something about the way director Kim Kyu-tae shot those extreme close-ups that makes you feel like you're intruding on the characters' personal space. It’s intimate. It’s also incredibly stressful. If you’re looking for a lighthearted rom-com, run away. This is a heavy-duty melodrama that leans into every trope in the book but does it with such high-end production value that you can’t look away.
The Plot That Should Not Work (But Does)
The story follows Oh Soo, played by Jo In-sung. He’s a high-stakes gambler and a bit of a nihilist. He shares a name with the deceased brother of a massive conglomerate heiress, Oh Young (played by Song Hye-kyo). When he finds himself in a massive debt hole with his life on the line, he decides to play along. He enters her life pretending to be her long-lost brother to steal her money.
Simple, right? Except Oh Young is blind and deeply cynical. She’s surrounded by people who want her fortune, and she doesn't trust "the brother" who suddenly appeared after years of silence.
The tension in That Winter, The Wind Blows comes from the blurring lines of their relationship. You have the "fake incest" trope, which is always risky ground. But the drama handles it by focusing on their shared isolation. They are both broken people. Oh Soo is living a lie but finds himself genuinely wanting to protect her. Oh Young is ready to die but finds a reason to live because of him. It’s messy. It’s complicated. It’s exactly why the show was a hit.
Why Song Hye-kyo and Jo In-sung Were the Perfect Pair
Casting is everything. If you had lesser actors, this would have been a disaster.
Song Hye-kyo’s performance as Oh Young is frequently cited as one of her best. Playing a visually impaired character is a minefield for actors. It can easily feel like a caricature. She spent time at welfare centers for the blind, learning how to focus her eyes away from the person she was talking to. She didn't do the "staring into space" cliché. She gave Oh Young a sharp, biting edge. She wasn't a victim; she was a woman who was tired of being manipulated.
Then you have Jo In-sung. This was his comeback project after serving in the military. He brought an erratic, frantic energy to Oh Soo. One minute he’s a cold-blooded con artist, the next he’s breaking down in tears. His chemistry with Song was electric. When they stood together, it looked like a high-fashion editorial. The height difference, the oversized coats, the snowy backgrounds—it was visual perfection.
The Visual Language of the Wind
We have to talk about the cinematography. Seriously.
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Director Kim Kyu-tae used a lot of shallow depth of field. This means the background is blurred into oblivion while the actors’ faces are in sharp focus. You see every eyelash. You see the slight tremble of a lip. It was a stylistic choice that mirrored the characters' tunnel vision—they were so focused on each other that the rest of the world didn't exist.
The color palette was also vital. Everything was cool tones—blues, whites, and greys. This emphasized the "Winter" in the title. But then you’d have these pops of color, like Oh Young’s red lipstick or the warmth of the interior lights in her mansion. It felt like a movie every single week.
A Script by Noh Hee-kyung
The writing also deserves credit. Noh Hee-kyung is known for dramas that feel "human." She wrote It's Okay, That's Love and Dear My Friends. She doesn't write cardboard cutout villains. Even the people trying to take Oh Young’s money have motivations that feel grounded in some twisted version of reality.
In That Winter, The Wind Blows, the dialogue is poetic but sparse. The characters don't always say what they mean. They lie to themselves and each other constantly. The drama is a remake of the Japanese show Forget Love, and while there was also a Korean film version called Love Me Not, this 16-episode format allowed the relationship to breathe. It allowed the slow burn to actually burn.
Why Do We Keep Coming Back to Melodramas?
Let’s be real: modern dramas have moved away from this kind of "pure" melodrama. Nowadays, everything has a thriller subplot or a supernatural twist. We have "makjang" dramas that are over-the-top and soapy. But That Winter, The Wind Blows is a classic tragedy-adjacent romance.
It taps into a very specific emotion: Han. It’s a Korean concept of collective sadness and longing.
Watching Oh Soo struggle with the guilt of his deception while falling in love with a woman who is literally waiting for her life to end is an emotional workout. It’s cathartic. You’re not just watching a story; you’re feeling the weight of their circumstances.
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The Controversy and the Ending
Every great drama has its sticking points. For this one, it was the "faux-cest" element. Some viewers found it uncomfortable that the romance was built on a sibling lie. Even though they weren't actually related, the show played with that boundary quite a bit. The physical intimacy was framed through the lens of a brother and sister, which made the eventual romantic shift feel scandalous to some and deeply poignant to others.
Then there’s the ending. Without spoiling the specifics for the three people who haven't seen it yet, it was polarizing. Some felt it was too dreamlike, others felt it was the only way to resolve such a heavy story. It sparked endless debates on forums like Soompi and DramaBeans back in the day. Was it real? Was it a metaphor? That kind of ambiguity is what makes a show stay in your head for years.
Real Talk: Is it Dated?
If you watch it today, you might roll your eyes at a few things.
- The secondary characters (played by Kim Bum and Jung Eun-ji) are great, but their subplot feels very "2013."
- The product placement for certain phones and bakeries is... aggressive.
- The pacing can be slow for people used to the 12-episode, fast-paced Netflix era.
But honestly? None of that matters when the main theme hits. The OST (Original Soundtrack) is still top-tier. "Winter Love" by The One and "Snowflower" by Gummy are basically mandatory listening for any K-drama fan. They perfectly capture that "staring out a window while it snows" vibe.
Actionable Insights for Your Next Watch
If you are planning to dive into That Winter, The Wind Blows for the first time or the fifth, here is how to get the most out of it.
First, watch it on the biggest screen possible. This isn't a "watch on your phone during the commute" kind of show. You need to see those 4K close-ups to understand the emotional beats. The cinematography is half the experience.
Second, pay attention to the sound design. The sound of the wind, the bells on Oh Young’s shoes, the crunch of snow. It’s a very sensory-heavy show.
Third, don't rush it. Melodramas are meant to be sat with. If you binge-watch all 16 episodes in two days, you’re going to end up with an emotional hangover and a headache. Let the sadness marinate a little bit.
Finally, if you finish it and find yourself wanting more of that specific Noh Hee-kyung/Kim Kyu-tae magic, move on to It's Okay, That's Love. It features Jo In-sung again, but in a completely different role that explores mental health with the same visual flair.
That Winter, The Wind Blows remains a landmark in Korean television history. It proved that you could take a potentially "trashy" soap opera premise and turn it into high art through incredible acting and visionary directing. It’s a reminder that sometimes, we just want to watch beautiful people suffer beautifully in the snow.
If you're looking for your next drama fix, go back to the classics. This one hasn't lost its chill.
Key Takeaways for Your Watchlist:
- Prepare for an emotional marathon; this is a heavy melodrama.
- Focus on the cinematography; it’s widely considered some of the best in K-drama history.
- Appreciate the "Golden Era" of Hallyu actors at their peak.
- Don't let the "fake sibling" trope scare you off; the emotional depth justifies the setup.
- Listen to the OST separately—it’s iconic for a reason.
Instead of looking for the next trendy show, give this 2013 classic a chance to ruin your tear ducts. You won't regret it.