Head Over Heels Season 1 Review: The Shaman and the Cursed Boy

The construction of a high-concept romance often hinges on a single, compelling obstacle. In Head Over Heels, the narrative apparatus is built around a particularly stark one: what if your fated love was literally fated to die? The series introduces Park Seong-a, a high school student who juggles the mundane anxieties of exams with the esoteric responsibilities of being a practicing shaman.

Her life, a carefully managed duality, is disrupted by the arrival of Bae Gyeon-u, a transfer student whose handsome, melancholic face hides a dark secret. Through her shamanic sight, Seong-a perceives that Gyeon-u is marked for death, with only weeks left to live. This revelation immediately establishes the series’ central engine.

Propelled by an instantaneous attraction and a sense of spiritual duty, Seong-a appoints herself his protector. The story’s primary tension is not whether they will fall for each other, but whether her determination can overcome his deep-seated resignation to a life of perpetual misfortune. The stage is set for a battle between one girl’s will and a seemingly inescapable destiny.

The Anatomy of Opposites

The effectiveness of this premise rests entirely on the dynamic between its two leads, and the series dedicates significant effort to constructing them as perfect narrative foils. Park Seong-a is a font of kinetic energy, her desire for a conventional teenage life—complete with college aspirations and romantic daydreams—in constant friction with her inherited spiritual gifts.

She is a character who seeks normalcy while wielding the extraordinary. Her decision to save Gyeon-u is a beautifully layered motivation, a mixture of a simple high-school crush and the grave responsibility her powers impose upon her. In direct contrast, Bae Gyeon-u is presented as a study in tragic stoicism.

His cynicism is not a simple personality trait but a carefully constructed shield, forged by a lifetime of bad luck and social isolation that has taught him that he is a danger to others. His rejection of Seong-a’s help is therefore not an act of pride, but one of perceived self-sacrifice.

Their initial interactions are a fascinating dance of opposing forces: her bright, clumsy interventions meet his weary, defensive posture. Yet, within his guarded responses, the script skillfully plants seeds of curiosity, suggesting that her stubborn refusal to abandon him is an anomaly he cannot quite dismiss.

When Spirits Haunt the Hallways

The series finds a curious and effective tone by grafting its supernatural architecture onto the banal framework of a public high school. The setting becomes a landscape where otherworldly threats manifest in the most mundane of places.

A trip to the boys’ bathroom becomes an encounter with a vengeful water ghost; a school storage room transforms into the site of a spectral arson attempt. This narrative choice accomplishes two things. First, it makes Gyeon-u’s curse feel relentless and inescapable; there are no safe spaces for him. Second, it allows the story to oscillate between tones.

The visual mechanics of these spiritual attacks are handled with a straight-faced seriousness, using competent effects and pointed camera work to build a genuine sense of physical danger. The weight of these moments prevents the show from becoming a simple supernatural comedy.

This tension is then amplified by Seong-a’s clandestine efforts to counteract the threats. Her frantic, secret attempts to perform rituals and plant protective talismans inject a necessary element of suspense and, at times, a wry humor into the proceedings, as she tries to save a boy who remains oblivious to the true nature of her actions.

A Bond Forged in Grief

The story deepens its emotional core by exploring the immense weight of loneliness and the defiant power of a single human connection. The primary vessel for this theme is Gyeon-u’s grandmother, who is established not merely as a family member but as his sole emotional anchor in a world that has consistently rejected him.

Her character serves a critical narrative function: she is the living proof of his capacity for love and loyalty. Her abrupt death is a devastatingly effective plot point, stripping Gyeon-u of his last tether and raising the stakes of Seong-a’s mission from a personal quest to the fulfillment of a dying wish. The culminating scene at the funeral home is a masterful piece of character work.

Gyeon-u’s grief is raw and sharp, lashing out at the person who has tried to help him. Seong-a’s response—to stand her ground, clad in her shamanic robes—is a powerful statement. In that moment, she transcends the role of a potential love interest and solidifies her position as a true guardian.

The series thoughtfully proposes that in a world governed by cruel fate, the most potent form of protection may not be a spiritual talisman, but the stubborn refusal of one person to let another face the darkness alone.

Head Over Heels Directed by Kim Yong‑wan and written by Yang Ji‑hoon, it premiered on June 23, 2025 on South Korea’s tvN and is available for streaming internationally—most notably on Amazon Prime Video, typically releasing new episodes every Monday and Tuesday.

Full Credits

Director: Kim Yong‑wan

Writers: Yang Ji‑hoon

Producers and Executive Producers: Studio Dragon, Dexter Studio, EO Contents Group

Cast: Cho Yi‑hyun, Choo Young‑woo, Cha Kang‑yoon, Choo Ja‑hyun, Kim Mi‑kyung, Yoon Byung‑hee

Director of Photography (Cinematographer): Kim Dong‑wook

Composer: Kim Dong‑wook