I have to say, The Bangkok Boy isn’t what I’d label a run-of-the-mill BL series. Honestly, it’s more of a classic tale of gang warfare and revenge, tangled up with just a sprinkle of romance between the two main guys. That love story? Barely scratched the surface. With each episode clocking in at nearly an hour, I dove in hoping for a heartfelt gay romance, but came away feeling a bit let down. Still, if you clear your mind of those romantic expectations and focus instead on the gritty underworld drama it promises, the show has some surprising depth. Funny enough, even the poster seemed to play a sneaky little trick on me—leading me down the wrong path entirely.
The story follows Sun, a young man caught in the crossfire of crime and family ties. His dad, a kind-hearted gang leader, and his best friend, Kong, are brutally killed, leaving Sun not only heartbroken but also falsely accused and thrown behind bars. Once out, Sun’s life shifts gears as he fights to seize power and peel back the layers of deception surrounding those murders. Along the way, destiny ties him to Peach, a delicate Korean artist with a quiet soul. But here’s the kicker—Peach is the son of Mr. Jo, the ruthless leader of a rival Korean gang implicated in the very deaths that shattered Sun’s world. It’s like watching a tragic Romeo and Juliet unfold, where love, hate, and betrayal tango in a dangerous dance.
Now, let me vent a little about the chaos swirling through this series. There are way too many characters thrown into the mix—like a crowded dinner party you can’t quite follow. Most are introduced in a whirlwind within the first couple of episodes, which left me more confused than engaged. The relationship between Sun and Peach? It felt rushed, almost like two puzzle pieces forced together without much thought. There’s none of that sizzling chemistry you’d hope for in a story leaning on romance, and honestly, we’re never really told why these two are drawn to each other in the first place. I don’t mind a bit of a bait-and-switch now and then, but here, the plot flips so often I found myself struggling to keep track. It’s as if the show is desperately trying to be a sprawling soap opera—but with a tiny, almost token, BL subplot tacked on.
The emotional depth? Pretty lacking. Characters face trauma, but it’s dropped like a hot potato. Take Mei, for example—she’s been assaulted for years, yet when she’s sent off to rehab, there’s no real emotional spotlight on her struggle. It’s like brushing past pain without acknowledging its weight. There are three major families jostling for control: the “good” guys, a fierce lady boss with her unhinged sidekick, and a Korean-Thai clan hungry to dominate the drug scene in Thailand. With so many figures parading around, it’s hard to tell who really matters—story-wise, they don’t add much depth, which was disappointing.
Honestly, it blows my mind that so many people online are raving about this series as a top-tier BL when, to me, it barely fits the genre. From my perspective, if I measure it strictly as a BL, it felt like a bit of a time sink. But, had I approached it purely as a revenge-fueled action drama, maybe I would’ve seen it in a different light. Sometimes a show just doesn’t land where you want it to—but hey, it’s all part of the viewing adventure, right?
