[KAVE=Lee Tae-rim Reporter] The wind blows over the forest of skyscrapers in Seoul. Yoon Se-ri (Son Ye-jin), the youngest daughter of a chaebol family and the head of a fashion and beauty brand, has lived like someone who walks above the sky, just like Miranda Priestly in 'The Devil Wears Prada'. Coldly with her family, her life is evaluated only by money and results. One day, while testing paragliding for a new leisure brand, Se-ri experiences a true 'falling accident from the sky'.
Caught in a sudden gust of wind, she loses control and wakes up hanging upside down somewhere in a forest. If Dorothy from 'The Wizard of Oz' was swept away by a tornado to Oz, Se-ri is swept away to North Korea by a gust. However, while Dorothy had a dog named Toto, Se-ri has only a designer handbag and a broken phone.
And in front of her stands a man in military uniform holding a gun. His name is Ri Jeong-hyuk (Hyun Bin). He is an officer belonging to a North Korean military unit and the son of a well-off family. If a regular bookstore owner in 'Notting Hill' met a Hollywood star, here a North Korean soldier meets a South Korean chaebol. The only difference is that there is a much more complicated international situation at play.
Se-ri immediately realizes that she has crossed the border. The heiress of the Republic of Korea has fallen deep into North Korean territory without any preparation and without an ID. There is no manual to explain this situation. Even Bear Grylls' survival program did not cover such a scenario. The succession battle of the South Korean chaebol and the launch of high-end brands lose all meaning in an instant.
Se-ri must first survive, avoid detection, and find a way to return. If Jason Bourne from the 'Bourne Series' wandered around Europe with amnesia, Se-ri must wander around North Korea while hiding her identity. At first, Jeong-hyuk is perplexed about how to deal with this 'crash-landed woman'. A citizen of an enemy state and, strictly speaking, an illegal intruder. However, as he watches Se-ri struggle to awkwardly adapt to the language and lifestyle here, he finds himself conflicted between regulations and conscience.
21st Century 'Roman Holiday'
Eventually, Jeong-hyuk hides Se-ri in his home. If Audrey Hepburn stayed at a reporter's house in 'Roman Holiday', here a chaebol heiress stays at a North Korean soldier's home. The officer's residence and the small rural village he belongs to suddenly become a hideout for an outsider. The problem is that the eyes of the villagers are as sharp as Sherlock Holmes' deductive skills.
The instincts of the neighborhood aunties are as keen as the National Intelligence Service, and the children quickly notice a stranger. Se-ri is thrown into a life where the electricity goes out every evening, where she has to line up to buy market goods, and where there is no internet or card payment. If Tom Hanks in 'Cast Away' lived on a deserted island, Se-ri lives as if she has traveled back to the 1990s.
What would have been a passing glance at the images of North Korea on TV now becomes a reality that she must endure in silence. Yet, like Andy in 'The Devil Wears Prada', she displays her unique wit and survival skills, gradually blending into this strange village.
Between Jeong-hyuk and Se-ri, there is a wall higher than the border from the beginning. Ideology, family, identity, and the imbalance of information they know about each other. The conflict between the Montague and Capulet families in 'Romeo and Juliet' seems cute in comparison. However, the drama spends time making them truly look into each other's worlds rather than just 'touring' them.
Se-ri makes kimchi with the neighborhood aunties and sees the scenery of smuggling goods at the market every night, realizing that there is a difference between the 'North Korea consumed in the news' and the 'North Korea where real people breathe'. Just as the protagonist of 'Midnight in Paris' was disillusioned after visiting 1920s Paris, Se-ri's stereotypes about North Korea are shattered.
Through Se-ri, Jeong-hyuk indirectly experiences the pace of a capitalist city while also witnessing the coldness and isolation of South Korean society. Gradually, their conversations shift from debating
