‘Typhoon Family’ Finds Its Own Way to Tackle the IMF Crisis
The tvN drama ‘Typhoon Family’ has been standing out for how it deals with the 1997–1998 IMF financial crisis. While many Korean dramas rely on retro nostalgia, this one uses history as a practical engine for storytelling. In ‘Typhoon Family,’ the year 1998 isn’t just a nostalgic backdrop—it’s a key tool for problem-solving.
Unlike the Reply series that brought back old sentiments, this show treats the past as a field of survival. The series portrays how a small company, Typhoon Family, faces the national IMF bailout with methods that feel oddly modern. Viewers, already aware of what would happen after 1998, become active accomplices in the story.
How the IMF Becomes a Narrative Tool
The way the show approaches the IMF crisis is unusual. The 1997 foreign exchange crash—often remembered as a collective trauma—isn’t treated as tragedy. Instead, it becomes a built-in source of tension. The drama continuously creates an atmosphere of “danger,” but it also uses this to connect with the audience’s foresight.
In Episode 6, the characters make a promotional video to save a struggling safety shoe company, Shoe-park. It’s an unconventional idea for 1998, but to today’s audience, it looks familiar—like something out of the 2000s digital marketing era. This deliberate anachronism makes the drama feel participatory. Viewers nod, thinking, “That’s smart,” because they already know such methods would later become the norm.
These exaggerated, almost comic portrayals (like the loan sharks’ chaotic scenes and parody-style ads) may stretch realism, but they produce the show’s strongest moments of catharsis. ‘Typhoon Family’ is basically asking: “What if people back then had our knowledge?”
Cold Reason Meets Passion
At the drama’s core are Kang Tae-pung (Lee Jun-ho) and O Mi-seon (Kim Min-ha)—two characters symbolizing passion and reason. Tae-pung is impulsive, intuitive, and sometimes reckless. Mi-seon is analytical and rational, more of a “trader” type who prioritizes company logic over emotional instinct.
A key conflict appears in the Shoe-park storyline. When Tae-pung writes a promissory note using his own eyes as collateral to save the factory owner from loan sharks, Mi-seon furiously objects. For her, business decisions should be contractual, not heroic.
Yet, the series doesn’t decide who’s right. Tae-pung’s reckless passion generates opportunities, while Mi-seon’s rationality makes them achievable. Their repeated clashes raise a deeper question: what’s the right attitude toward work—emotion or reason?
Repositioning Women in the 1990s Workplace
At first glance, the show might seem to follow a typical gender formula: the man has the vision, and the woman supports it. But ‘Typhoon Family’ flips that narrative. In reality, O Mi-seon is the one who executes all the decisive moves—funding accounts receivable with her own money, leading English presentations, and handling overseas deals.
During the late 1990s, Korean workplaces rarely gave women decision-making power. The drama mirrors that limitation yet transcends it through Mi-seon’s growth. Hired initially as a bookkeeper, she remains loyal through the company’s near-bankruptcy and eventually becomes team leader. Without her, Tae-pung’s bold ideas wouldn’t work.
The show’s point is clear: ideas and execution can’t exist without each other—and neither can Tae-pung and Mi-seon.
The Audience as Accomplices
There’s a smart play between the audience and the characters. Viewers know the outcome of the IMF crisis and the technological shifts that followed, but the characters don’t. This asymmetric structure creates narrative pleasure. The audience cheers for the characters’ “future-looking” solutions, even if they’re historically impossible.
This dual awareness—where viewers know more but still root for the characters—builds the show’s charm. ‘Typhoon Family’ makes the audience both witnesses and collaborators.
Rising Popularity and What’s Next
Currently, ‘Typhoon Family’ holds a viewership rating of 8.9% (Episode 6) and continues trending upward. It maintains a consistent balance between retro aesthetics, genre entertainment, and character chemistry.
But one question remains: as the story expands, will the show keep using the IMF period only as a dramatic setting, or will it confront its heavier social reality—like unemployment and family collapse?
So far, the series has focused on corporate survival, not personal tragedy. Yet, with each episode, the stakes rise. Whether ‘Typhoon Family’ chooses realism or keeps its inventive fantasy, it’s already proven one thing—it’s a drama that uses retro not for nostalgia but for reflection.
And that’s probably why audiences keep watching.
Source (daum)
