Review Perfect 10 Liners (2024) BY MimiTheReaper
The thing about Perfect 10 Liners is that it somehow manages to feel like three completely different shows stitched together with friendship bracelets, group chats, and just enough shared drama to hold the seams together. At first glance, it gives strong “engineering university fluff with a side of chaos” energy, but once you dive in, it turns into something messier, funnier, and—sometimes—downright frustrating in the best and worst ways.
Starting with Arc and Arm, this couple was supposed to carry the early emotional weight of the show. Instead, I found myself feeling like I was watching two tired office mates who agreed to play lovers as part of a work event. Their chemistry was polite—like a contract was signed and both parties showed up, kissed on cue, and collected their checks. There were moments where I thought they might surprise me, especially during the rain t-shirt scene or the beach episode, but even then, the romance never fully clicked. Arm’s loud antics mixed with Arc’s permanent “I’m too cool to care” vibe gave them the aura of two people in totally different shows. Add in some sniffing and alcohol-fueled confessions, and I was begging for some real tension—or at least a spark. It never really arrived. They were sweet, I guess, but sweet in a “thanks for helping me move houses” kind of way, not a “you’re the love of my life” kind of way.
Then came Yotha and Gun, and suddenly everything made sense. This arc brought life back into the show. It was messy, yes, but it was also deeply engaging. Their dynamic was chaotic—situationships, unspoken trauma, jealousy, miscommunication, all wrapped in sexual tension and a history of broken expectations. But what saved it was that it felt real. You wanted to yell at them through the screen, beg them to just talk, hold each other properly, or stop kissing if they’re not going to commit. But also, you wanted them to work out. Their relationship had stakes. It wasn’t just a crush; it was years of loneliness, fear of abandonment, and the stubborn refusal to be vulnerable. Perth and Santa made it believable. That tie scene? Iconic. The bathroom breakdown? Heartbreaking. Even when Yotha made bone-headed choices (like that kiss with Wa), I still understood him—frustrating, yes, but layered. And Gun’s pain was so loud even when he was quiet. Their arc made me care again, and for that, I’m thankful.
Now, Faifa and Wine—these two were the unexpected win. From their first interaction, there was this ease to them. Not in the sense that their story was without conflict, but that they just fit. Faifa’s cheerful meddling and Wine’s chill but emotionally aware attitude gave their romance a rhythm that felt refreshingly healthy. Like, these boys actually talked. They confronted feelings, misunderstandings, even family trauma, without dragging it out for twelve episodes. Their tent scene? Wild. Their cafe talks? Gold. And I’ll admit, by the end, I was rooting for them the hardest. Faifa especially stood out. He had charm, sass, and a quiet sadness that came out in the moments that mattered. I didn’t think I’d find him so relatable, but when he talked about being tired of being “liked by everyone but truly loved by no one,” it hit hard.
What also worked in this series’ favor was the way side characters were folded in—not just for filler, but with real narrative function. Wa and Klao, despite having a romance that felt one-sided half the time, added texture. Klao’s transformation from wounded boyfriend to mature fiancé was surprisingly satisfying. Even their drama, while predictable, still had weight. And let’s not forget the friend groups, the chaotic little asides, the random dormitory nonsense. All of it added a lightness that balanced out the heavier arcs.
By the time the finale rolled around, I felt like I’d been through a semester with these kids. Some moments dragged, yes. A few arcs could’ve been trimmed or restructured. And not every emotional beat landed. But in the end, I enjoyed being with them. The show had heart. It wasn’t perfect, but it was honest in its imperfection.
Would I recommend Perfect 10 Liners? Definitely. Especially if you’ve got patience for slow burns, chaotic gays, and emotionally constipated engineering majors. It won’t change your life, but it might remind you that being single isn’t a curse, that healing takes time, and that sometimes, all it takes is one person who sees you—for real—to make all the drama worth it.
Starting with Arc and Arm, this couple was supposed to carry the early emotional weight of the show. Instead, I found myself feeling like I was watching two tired office mates who agreed to play lovers as part of a work event. Their chemistry was polite—like a contract was signed and both parties showed up, kissed on cue, and collected their checks. There were moments where I thought they might surprise me, especially during the rain t-shirt scene or the beach episode, but even then, the romance never fully clicked. Arm’s loud antics mixed with Arc’s permanent “I’m too cool to care” vibe gave them the aura of two people in totally different shows. Add in some sniffing and alcohol-fueled confessions, and I was begging for some real tension—or at least a spark. It never really arrived. They were sweet, I guess, but sweet in a “thanks for helping me move houses” kind of way, not a “you’re the love of my life” kind of way.
Then came Yotha and Gun, and suddenly everything made sense. This arc brought life back into the show. It was messy, yes, but it was also deeply engaging. Their dynamic was chaotic—situationships, unspoken trauma, jealousy, miscommunication, all wrapped in sexual tension and a history of broken expectations. But what saved it was that it felt real. You wanted to yell at them through the screen, beg them to just talk, hold each other properly, or stop kissing if they’re not going to commit. But also, you wanted them to work out. Their relationship had stakes. It wasn’t just a crush; it was years of loneliness, fear of abandonment, and the stubborn refusal to be vulnerable. Perth and Santa made it believable. That tie scene? Iconic. The bathroom breakdown? Heartbreaking. Even when Yotha made bone-headed choices (like that kiss with Wa), I still understood him—frustrating, yes, but layered. And Gun’s pain was so loud even when he was quiet. Their arc made me care again, and for that, I’m thankful.
Now, Faifa and Wine—these two were the unexpected win. From their first interaction, there was this ease to them. Not in the sense that their story was without conflict, but that they just fit. Faifa’s cheerful meddling and Wine’s chill but emotionally aware attitude gave their romance a rhythm that felt refreshingly healthy. Like, these boys actually talked. They confronted feelings, misunderstandings, even family trauma, without dragging it out for twelve episodes. Their tent scene? Wild. Their cafe talks? Gold. And I’ll admit, by the end, I was rooting for them the hardest. Faifa especially stood out. He had charm, sass, and a quiet sadness that came out in the moments that mattered. I didn’t think I’d find him so relatable, but when he talked about being tired of being “liked by everyone but truly loved by no one,” it hit hard.
What also worked in this series’ favor was the way side characters were folded in—not just for filler, but with real narrative function. Wa and Klao, despite having a romance that felt one-sided half the time, added texture. Klao’s transformation from wounded boyfriend to mature fiancé was surprisingly satisfying. Even their drama, while predictable, still had weight. And let’s not forget the friend groups, the chaotic little asides, the random dormitory nonsense. All of it added a lightness that balanced out the heavier arcs.
By the time the finale rolled around, I felt like I’d been through a semester with these kids. Some moments dragged, yes. A few arcs could’ve been trimmed or restructured. And not every emotional beat landed. But in the end, I enjoyed being with them. The show had heart. It wasn’t perfect, but it was honest in its imperfection.
Would I recommend Perfect 10 Liners? Definitely. Especially if you’ve got patience for slow burns, chaotic gays, and emotionally constipated engineering majors. It won’t change your life, but it might remind you that being single isn’t a curse, that healing takes time, and that sometimes, all it takes is one person who sees you—for real—to make all the drama worth it.
768431
56
https://blcritics-cdn.rudiwind10026.workers.dev/img/73XAvy_4c.jpg
MimiTheReaper
Perfect 10 Liners (2024)
สายรหัสเทวดา
5.0
5.0
6.0
6.0
5.0
Comments
Post a Comment