The story of a boy who can read people and objects by touching them. A sprinkling of romance. A secret from the past. The effects of corruption. The warmth of human relationships. The issue of moral ambiguity. The need for redemption and the difficulty of forgiveness. Plot twists that make you sit up and pay attention, then leave you rattled.

Is this show able to keep your interest and make you come back for the next episode? Yes.
Do you become invested in the characters? Yes.
Does the story try to give an unexpected spin to otherwise predictable clichés? Yes.
Does the combination of cinematography, acting, pacing, music, and plot work? Yes.
Is it worth your time? Yes. Uhm… well… probably.
Is it worth rewatching? No.

It’s a type of show that is enjoyable to follow while on-air. Some of the gaps may become more visible when binge-watching.

He Is Psychometric is destined to suffer from the M. Night Shyamalan syndrome: the main draw is a Big Reveal gimmick; once the central mystery is resolved, the other components of the narrative don’t compel you to revisit it any time in the future. And unfortunately, to add to the viewer’s dissatisfaction, the show doesn’t successfully address one central point of the mystery: why was the coming together of the main couple—especially as trainer/trainee—so insistently and deliberately orchestrated? The reasons are implied, but not spelled out: a defect frequently found in Korean dramas which repeatedly state what is non-essential and obvious, but fail to clarify a core issue, leaving it diffuse or glossed over.

[NOTE: spoilers beyond this paragraph!]

As a viewer I found myself almost resenting the feeling that I could practically see the wheels turning in the screen writer’s head. If put into a monologue, it would go something like this: “Let’s see now… we need a spin on the childhood connection trope… Ah, Healer had this trio of the younger male and female leads, plus an older second male lead… And he was ambiguous most of the time, we couldn’t figure out whether he was a good guy or a bad guy… Let’s add this…Great… Now, what about the shared trauma and its potential to destroy the newly-formed couple? Hey, speaking of Ji Chang Wook projects, Suspicious Partner had this apartment fire thing… and the guy discovering that the girl’s dad is the one he blames for his parents’ death… but the dad is wrongfully accused… Awesome, this will work, let’s throw it in there in the exact same sequence, no need to mess with a working formula… Can’t make the parallels too transparent, though… How about a little twist here: the scale of the fire is a result of cutting corners because the big construction company is corrupt. Super! (Good call, BTW.) OK… So… what we need is a stark contrast between the puppy-cute young couple and a dark world of obsession and crime… Kind of like Strong Woman Do Bong Soon, but darn, we are not doing mixed genre parody here… hmmm… still, I like the creepiness of confining a woman to a lightless basement… alright, let’s do it! Major benefit: can link the backstory to the crime organization that appears at one point, then reinforce the arc on police cover-ups. (Another good call.) Well… we need to up the ante here… Let’s sacrifice a main character. Good, it’s unexpected! What else, what else… How about defy expectations and make the non-monster an actual monster? Oh, yeah, they won’t see THAT coming! [Pat on the back for being original]”

There’s nothing inherently wrong with this line of thinking. It could have been successful, too.

However, in order to create a really good story as opposed to a merely intriguing one, the focus needs to be more on the characters’ development in reaction to the events, not so much on the events bending and spinning the characters.

Lee Ahn and Kang Sung More, the two male protagonists, highlight this point.

Park Jin Young as Lee Ahn does a decent job, the character grows on the viewer with every episode. It’s a pitty that his presence in the story has so many underwhelming aspects. There should have been more coherence when presenting his psychometric abilities: how come he sees in 3D, outside of his own POV or the POV of the object he touches? If psychometry is draining for him, why isn’t this consistent or tied to specific contexts? How did he evolve, provided that he actually did improve? A lot of emphasis was put on his training and the unreliability of how to interpret what he was seeing, then it all dissolved into a non-issue. Ah, writing for K-dramas: rarely the paragon of logic and congruity.

Kim Kwon in the role of Kang Sung Mo is very, very good. He is nothing less than magnetic in the last episodes, his portrayal more heartbreaking than chilling. The writer’s decision that this character get the short end of the stick is unfortunate. He was humanized only to be dehumanized in the end. Why? His arc of atonement could have been served equally well—or even better—by emphasizing the amygdala difference, and making him act more out of panic rather than calculation. The pre-fire murders could have easily been presented as a knee-jerk reaction to the nosy building manager walking in at the inappropriate moment and seeing the contents of the suitcase.

To put so much effort to transcend genes, conditioning, physiology and life experiences, to develop ties of genuine affection, to become sympathetic through the need for human contact and love turns out to be futile for this character. What was the writer trying to say? A bad seed is a bad seed, no way around it? Very disappointing. It could have been so much better if the message was that trying to be better is worth it, that redemption is possible.

A major problem with this show is the fuzzy focus on what the story is actually about, apart from the suspense elements.

Is it about the struggle between Nature vs. Nurture? Is it presenting a negativistic, “evil is relentless, effort is futile, endeavor is meaningless” worldview? Or is the sudden flip in favor of biological determinism simply a ploy to make the viewer uncomfortable, just because?

Or is the story about the difficulty of possessing, gauging and effectively using abilities that are considered paranormal? Is it about reality and interpretation, and the limitations of perception, no matter how augmented? Is it about the value of knowledge and training – or the irrelevance of either?

Is the show introducing violence in order to talk about repentance and forgiveness? Their possibility? Their impossibility? Which one, exactly? Even if the main point is the inherent ambiguity of notions such as love, hate, good, evil, this should be made clear. Annoyingly, core ideas are left undefined.

It doesn’t seem that the writer put any significant effort to conceptualize the big-picture story. It hurts both the value and longevity of the show, which in hindsight remains fairly pointless.