Mental turmoil latched onto me the moment that I attempted to evaluate this drama with a rubric. To claim that this show is close to objectively “perfect” would be awfully far from accurate. But the more that I told myself to be impartial, to judge this drama as fairly as I did every other show that I’ve ever consumed, the more squeamish I got. After all, it's one of the most magical dramas I've ever had the pleasure of watching.

The overarching plot of Dear Diary starts with a woman by the name of Chen Meiru. Like many young and hormonal creatives, she wrote a self-insert love story when she was 12, and paired herself with a handsome and devoted prince to boot. On her 24th birthday, he appears before her very eyes: a buff Babylonian man, wildly proclaiming his love for her. Hilarity ensues as the jaded careerwoman attempts to return to her normal life, haunted by the gorgeous prince, his loyal subordinate, and a beautiful love rival – each of whom she designed under her own pen as a starry-eyed child, but who are now composed of flesh and bone.

On the surface, Dear Diary is yet another kooky fantasy rom-com mess. In a genre teeming with titles, what instantly sets this one apart is that it’s legitimately funny…hmm, nope; “hysterical” is a more fitting term. Not once does it rely on cheap gags. All the jokes fit perfectly with the situation and are delivered impeccably. I had just gotten my wisdom teeth pulled when I started watching this drama, and the amount of pain I suffered due to failed attempts at suppressing my cackling was not trivial. Totally worth it, though. (Side note: some of the jokes may only be effective if you have prior understanding of Chinese culture. I took a look at the official English subtitles and they don’t provide any relevant context to understand these references. Booooo. If you're interested, you can visit my profile for a link to my fan-subbed version, in which I translate and explain these references.)

Is good humor this show’s sole asset? No, no, no. That’s the mere tip of the iceberg. Once you go for a deeper dive, you’ll discover that this show possesses a power that many others can only dream of: logic. Halle-freaking-lujah, it’s not mindless antics! Not only is there a methodical sequence of interesting events, there are actual reasons behind those events. I would like to thank these writers for displaying to their industry peers that “fantasy” is not a synonym for “has no rules.” In spite of a few plot holes (which are inevitable due to production reasons, as I’ll explain in a bit), the overall story is one of compelling, nonstop developments.

As you learn how and why certain events occur, more serious themes emerge. Whereas a great deal of creativity went into the layout of the story, an equal amount of thought went into tying it all back to reality. The fantasy elements become increasingly metaphorical in nature and the initial humor recedes to reveal the characters’ internal struggles. While I adore the comedy, the tone shift is truly brilliant and utilized fruitfully. Savor your joy – the higher your mood flies in the beginning, the more tears you’ll shed when later episodes wrestle you back down to earth.

How do the funny and somber components both work so well? Obviously, the writers and directors put in excellent work. But it would be a severe injustice to not applaud the actors. Across six lead characters (that’s right; six, with each of them bearing equal weight in the story), there’s not a single weak link to be found. They all interpret their roles very seriously, which allows you to immerse yourself into every scene – be it one of comedy or one of tragedy. I’m especially appreciative of the actors and actress playing the three characters risen from Chen Meiru’s diary. These characters would be extremely easy to exaggerate to the point of being awkward caricatures. However, because each actor gave due respect to the role that they played, every character feels real and their reactions suit the situation. Also, special shoutout for Bu Guanjin, who I swear has some of the best line delivery skills in the industry.

For the sake of clarity, I’ll go over the drama’s characters by splitting them into two groups: “human” and “paper,” the former being those in the story who are regarded from the get-go as “real” people, and the latter being those who rose from the pages of Chen Meiru’s journal. These paper characters, Murong Jielun, Ouyang Wenshan, and Jiutian Longnu, all start off as you would expect – horribly cringeworthy. Flat, one-dimensional; the pinnacle of an adolescent girl’s imagination. But, over the course of the story, their growth is the most impactful and satisfying of all. It’s through them that we witness the departure from supposed destiny, and the subsequent importance of taking your future into your own hands.

As for the humans themselves: you have Chen Meiru, Jiang Huizhen, and Duan Shuiliu. Each of them live drastically different lifestyles, but are ultimately as similar to one another as they are to you and me: full of youthful dreams, and also full of doubt. Perhaps we’d expect that them teaching the paper characters about life would be the primary focus. However, what is of more interest is watching them—the “real” humans—find hope within cruel reality by cherishing and loving those fictional, yet genuine paper characters. It’s poetic cinema, I tell you.

At its core, this drama is a tale of growth and self-worth; about overcoming insecurities and reaching for greater heights with the support of those around us. This storytelling is especially valuable for us women in the audience, who need more media in which ladies are permitted to be vulnerable, to be flawed, to be irritable. Of course, this message applies to you; whoever you may be. We all have our moments of weakness. We all have negative memories that hold us back. But through others and through our own self-reflection, we can find happiness.

Alright, so I’ve talked your ears off about all the good points. Then what made me initially waver away from giving Dear Diary such a high score? For one thing, the dubbing leaves a lot to be desired. It is extremely obvious that they recorded over existing dialogue for numerous scenes. I’m sure it was unavoidable, but dubbing will always get me in a huffy mood.

Secondly, and possibly most importantly, the pacing is far too fast. Like, “someone needs to dish this production a speeding ticket”-level too fast. 24 episodes at 20-some minutes a pop? It’s whiplash waiting to happen. In regards to the overall story, the length is tolerable; but as they say, the devil is in the details – the compressed timing creates a good number of plot holes, which leads to clunky development, which in turn harms intricacies in the characters and their relationships. Frankly, I didn’t find it to be a major issue; but the progression definitely doesn’t feel as natural as it could be. Here, I’d like to mention that the producers edited the entire show twice before it could air (due to reasons like our beloved censorship). Twice. Can you imagine how much precious content got cut out in the process? I could cry just thinking about it. Anyways, if the crew is willing to release an extended director’s cut—even if it’s secretly in some kind of drama black market—I might have some pocket money at the ready…just saying.

These issues could prove fatal for any other show, but I’m more than willing to overlook them all for Dear Diary. This is a rare drama where you can truly tell how much care and effort went into making it something of emotional value. You never get a sense that those involved in this production were in it to make mad bank or to revolutionize the Asian drama scene or even to be super dramatic. It’s just here with the modest goal of telling us a fun, soothing story. Whether it be in the realism of the acting, the craftsmanship of the dialogue, filming in Morocco and having the cast learn the Akkadian language for scenes referencing ancient Babylonia – there is no shortage of genuine dedication. There’s something exceptional about witnessing a passion project, bursting at the seams with honesty and sincerity, coming to life upon your screen. It warms my cold, cold heart. It inspires me to be just as heartfelt toward my own life.

While Dear Diary may not be “perfect,” it’s a perfect example of the sentiment that a show need not be flawless in order to receive love from its audience. When a writer cares deeply for her script and an actor his role, a viewer can instinctively feel it. That emotional connection, that soul alone can be enough to make a show into something special. Dear Diary possesses that soul. And I couldn’t be more grateful that the team behind it shared it with us, because it really is something special.