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Written on March 13, 2024
Some quick housekeeping before we begin. Remember that glowing tribute I write about Eric Carmen on Monday? Well, I still mean what I said about his music and how much I love it. However, I did some more research and found that over the past few years, he spent a good bit of his time starting fights on Twitter and insulting people who didn’t agree with his political views or conspiracy theories.
So many times, I find that that an artist I love, who wrote amazing music and sang so beautifully, turned out to be a colossal jerk. This is why we can’t have nice things.
Moving on.
Today, we begin our deep dive into K-pop band assembly shows. We are starting with No Mercy, which ran from December 2014 to February 2015 and brought us Monsta X, one of my favorite groups. The first episode is called “The Cruel Debut War Gets Started.” And right off the bat, after seeing just the first episode, I realized I needed an attitude adjustment when it comes to these shows.
I thought calling No Mercy a survival reality show was a bit overdramatic before I actually started watching it. I was seeing the concept through American eyes. While losing an American survival reality show can mean death in the wilderness, I now know that losing No Mercy means death of your dreams and your pride, not to mention the realization that you have sacrificed years of your life being a trainee in the K-pop system, only to be eliminated.
Honestly, if I had exceptional musical talent and was given the choice of competing on either Korea’s No Mercy or America’s Alone, I’d take my chances in the wilderness of Northern Mongolia for the American show. Being crushed by falling boulders is preferable to having my soul crushed and then being shown the door. Losing the American show means you only die once.
Yes, it is that serious.
Just to provide some context, K-pop idols spend years as trainees, hoping for a chance to debut. They train from morning until late at night, taking lessons in dancing, singing, rapping, and acting, as well as interviewing, songwriting, production, and other practical skills. They can spend up to ten years of their lives as trainees, getting very few days off and working themselves to exhaustion. In the end, only a very small percentage of them will debut. And even if they do debut, there’s no guarantee that they will catch fire with the public and become famous and successful.
Landing a spot on a Korean survival reality show is the chance of a lifetime for these trainees. On No Mercy, there are only twelve spots. Which is why the rankings are so important. Making it on the show is just the first step. If you get ranked last on the very first episode, it’s considered a failure, even though you don’t get cut in the first rankings. Never mind the fact that it’s an incredible accomplishment to get on the show in the first place. The trainees don’t see that. All that matters is the debut.
If you rank dead last, even if you don’t get cut from the show right then, it means that there are eleven people between you and the debut, and only the top few will get chosen. In other words, you may as well be back in the dorms, still anonymous, getting ready for another 14-hour day of gruelingly relentless dance practice.
No Mercy only ran for one season, and I already know who the winners are. That does not spoil the show for me in the least. Just from the first episode, I’m seeing the band members in a whole different light, and I’m also learning way more about the K-pop machine and how cruel it can be to someone with a dream.
Take Shownu, for example. He’s currently the leader of Monsta X, so I know he’ll make it, but this first episode shows me what he’s been through just to compete on this show. The show focuses mostly on him for right now, and we open with the initial rankings. We only see a few seconds of their initial performances in a small room in front of the judges, and right away, Shownu gets the top spot.
If this were an American show, two things would happen here.
- We wouldn’t be told the top
spot first. They would start with the
last spot and build up to the top two spots, with the remaining two trainees
clutching each other and freaking out. In
fact, naming the number one spot right away seems anticlimactic. But there’s a reason the first spot gets
named first, and it’s spelled out in Shownu’s reaction. He is somber. He quietly and calmly walks over to the judges’
table to accept his first-place badge and bows to them. The reason for this reaction is Difference
Number Two:
- Getting ranked first isn’t just an honor for Shownu. It’s a weight on his shoulders. Out of all the trainees, he now has to spend the rest of the competition trying to prove that he’s worthy of that number one spot. He also has eleven other trainees now gunning for him. The man does not crack a smile once, not even the moment when the judges say his name. For us, the suspense isn’t finding out who got the first slot. It’s finding out the order of the other trainees, whose rankings now indicate how badly each one wants to trip Shownu on the stairs.
The other trainees watch Shownu accept his first place
badge.
Knowing how this is all going to play out, I’m surprised to see how low some of the eventual winners rank in this first round. While Jooheon and Wonho rank #2 and #4, respectively, Kihyun, Hyungwon, and Minhyuk come in at #8, #9, and #10. Kihyun’s relatively low ranking really surprises me, because he is now known for having one of the most amazing singing voices in the industry. We don’t get to see him or the other singers audition for these rankings, so the competition must have been insane.
The trainees then split up to work with different industry experts, who are helping each one prepare a three-minute performance for the next round of rankings. Emotionally, the process is run like a military boot camp. From here on out, the trainees are referred to by their numbers, not their names. The trainee named Yoosu, who is ranked last, is called “Number Twelve” during this process, a constant reminder of his failure. It’s not much better for Shownu to be referred to by “Number One,” considering it’s a constant reminder to watch his back. They may as well call him “Target.”
The experts working with them can be worse than Simon Cowell with severe hemorrhoids. Here is a partial transcript of one expert’s rap lesson with four of the trainees:
Expert: I have to call
you by your numbers.
#7: Here,
too?
Expert: Yes, at all
times.
#2: So I’m
Number Two, and not Jooheon?
Expert: Yes,
you’re Trainee Number Two.
#5: I’m 5-Yoonho. (laughs)
Expert: (stone faced) I want to call you Number Twelve. You have to do better from now on.
#7: I tried
to think of it as Lucky Seven.
Expert: Don’t give me
that. You’re number twelve in rapping.
This is not friendly banter. The expert looks like a fed-up high school teacher who just caught four students cooking meth in the chem lab. If any of the contestants on The Voice or American Idol faced this expert, they would sue the network.
All four trainees now take turns rapping for the expert, and despite the show’s title, putting Jooheon last is an act of mercy. None of the other trainees should have to follow his performance. If Kihyun is known for his singing voice, Jooheon is arguably the best rapper in K-pop. His lyrics in the Monsta X song “Gambler” and the cocky way he delivers them is one of my favorite musical moments, period. (“ME? I’m a handsome sum of moNEY, I got a vesper marTINI...”)
So I am excited to see young trainee Jooheon perform, and he does not disappoint. At least for the few seconds we get to see. The expert cuts him off after just a few lines and begrudgingly says, “Okay, that wasn’t too bad,” and even though that is this expert’s verbal equivilent of giving Jooheon a Billboard Music Award, I still want to smack him upside the head with his own clipboard. YOU do not tell Jooheon when to stop rapping. HE decides when he’s done.
We then switch over to the vocalists in their session, and this expert is a bit more encouraging. Again, we only get snippets of each performance, but we do get to hear Kihyun. His singing takes my breath away. I don’t see how he’s ranked at Number Eight, unless he really bombed in the first round. I’d love to see him do a rock opera.
Now we get to a segment on Shownu alone, and this is the part that really made me see him and what he’s been through. We learn that he used to be a trainee in a different entertainment company called JYP Entertainment. (No Mercy is run by Starship Entertainment and features their own trainees.) During his two-year stint at JYP, he trained with a group called GOT7. Instead of debuting with the group, Shownu was cut. He was twenty years old at the time. GOT7 went on to become very famous, touring several times and winning many worldwide music awards.
He's still friends with GOT7. No Mercy cuts away to follow him as he waits for them outside a venue. After their performance, they come out and embrace their old friend. They go to dinner, and right away, even though we feel their chemistry as friends, Shownu is still a million miles apart from them.
GOT7 talk about how surprised and upset they were when Shownu left JYP. Shownu looks sad. He says he’s used to seeing everyone around him go on to debut. The emotional gut punch actually brings tears to my eyes. In a confessional clip, Shownu says that the pressure got to him at JYP, and he couldn’t take it anymore. Later on, he says that every time he sees his GOT7 friends, he feels pathetic.
The show’s title isn’t just about what the trainees go through. This program shows no mercy for the viewers’ emotions. This is heartbreaking.
GOT7 and Shownu leave the restaurant, and as they
walk down the street, fans gather to take pictures. Shownu steps back a bit so he doesn’t get in
the way of the cameras. In the
confessional cutaways, he’s pragmatic about it, but he’s clearly uncomfortable
in the actual situation.
As they part ways, he hugs
his friends goodbye, and the fans temporarily stop taking pictures, waiting for
the unknown guy to get out of the way.
He stands alone in the street and watches them walk away, trailed by
their adoring fans.
I hate this show for doing this to me. If I were still drinking, I’d be typing this from inside a bottle of Bacardi right now. My only consolation is knowing Shownu is going to make it. Most trainees don’t get a debut or any kind of happy ending. Shownu is going to be one of the lucky ones.
Back to the competition. I never thought I’d be so happy to see the
grumpy experts from hell again. We have
arrived at D-Day 1. Our trainees will
perform on a concert stage for the original judges and some new ones who are
actual K-pop idols. Jooheon is
excited. He wants Shownu’s spot.
The trainees are driven to the venue. They are all nervous, except for Jooheon. He is confident. He is ready. I love him so much. Sorry. That was unprofessional. Where was I? Right. D-Day 1.
The trainees line up on the huge stage. Only the stage is lit up. The seats are shrouded in darkness. As the trainees stand there, trying to control the jitters, a spotlight suddenly beams onto the judges’ table. They have been sitting there in darkness, waiting to ambush these poor trainees like angry parents waiting for a teen who is way past his curfew.
But that’s not enough. Large cubes suddenly light up in front of the stage, showing the numbers one through twelve. The trainees have to go stand behind their numbers. I actually wrote “psychological warfare” in my notes. This show isn’t just trying to rattle these trainees. They want the weakest ones to just collapse and be dragged offstage to save the judges having to vote them off.
Honestly, they should just give each trainee a cyanide pill and a shot of tequila. Then they could at least go out with some dignity.
Except for Jooheon. He’s got his game face on. He looks ready to take a bite out of the stage and spit out the splinters.
Shownu is up first, and I can’t believe we’re only 26 minutes into this show. I have already been through the emotional wringer and taken six pages of notes. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
Shownu takes the stage while the other trainees wait backstage, and right off the goddamn bat, one of the judges says, “When I first met you, I didn’t think you were Number One material, but look at you now.” He is not giving a compliment. His tone of voice implies that Shownu got away with something. And Shownu, to his enormous credit, simply says, “I must have gotten lucky at the first evaluation.” If that had been an American contestant, there would have been hands thrown.
The judges also bring up that Shownu was cut from JYP after two years, and I wrote in my notes, “WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS??!!”
But our guy pulls himself together and sings a lovely rendition of John Legend’s “All of Me.” Then he shows off his skills in a dance routine that foreshadows the incredible precision moves we’ll be seeing in a couple of years.
The judges clap. Their attitude is reserved, but they liked the performance. One of the judges who knew him when he was at JYP says she didn’t know he could sing so well.
Shownu bows in gratitude. I stress-eat an entire box of Belvita biscuits.
Next up: Jooheon. We get a confessional clip in which he says he wants to become such a good rapper, he will drive people crazy. Again, I think of his performance in “Gambler” and get chills.
He begins, and the lighting crew does not let him down.
The song is mysterious, chilling, aggressive. Jooheon moves like the song has possessed him. The judges are mesmerized. The other trainees backstage are mesmerized. I’m mesmerized.
After the performance, the judges tell him that his performance is already at a professional level. All I can think is, wait until you see him in a couple of years.
Backstage, Shownu says Jooheon did well, and we can see he’s concerned. All the trainees are concerned. They can hear the judges showering praise on Jooheon. Considering that a few of these judges have a default setting of “you suck,” they have every reason to be worried.
After Jooheon leaves the stage, the female judge, who I think is a K-pop Idol herself, says, “He scares me when he raps. He’s scary. The way he looks at me.” Again, check him out when Monsta X is on tour. He can be dangerous.
We’re getting close to the end of the episode, and No Mercy knows how to end on a cliffhanger, although this is an even more effective one for viewers like me who already know the outcome. Our next trainee is Hyungwon, another eventual winner.
As a fan of the group that’s
being formed, I’ve always found Hyungwon to be an enigma. He’s stunningly handsome and has a cool,
quiet vibe about him, yet the fans also love him for his clumsy, adorkable personality
and how he’s often the butt of the jokes in the band. For now, the handsome and cool vibe is on
full display, and it’s having an obvious effect on the female judge.
I am on the edge of my seat for this. If you’ll remember, Hyungwon is currently one of the lowest ranked members, at Number 9. The reason for his low ranking is because the judges only remembered how handsome he is, but nothing about his singing or dancing stood out to them.
We the viewers didn’t get to
see any part of his performance during the initial rankings. But fans like me know what Hyungwon is
capable of. His solo stages during
Monsta X concerts are some of my favorite moments of the shows, especially when
he performed “Wildfire” on the band’s No Limit Tour in 2022.
“Wildfire” has always been a fan favorite from this tour, and it’s not just because of Hyungwon’s good looks. He could be wearing a paper bag over his head, and his dancing, combined with the set design, still would still have the audience enthralled. (His singing would be a bit muffled.) While I do understand the judges getting distracted by how handsome he is, I want them to see more.
The judges settle in. Hyungwon lifts his microphone. And then, No Mercy kicks us in the metaphorical balls by ending the episode.
Audiences at the time this show was being aired would have to wait another week. Because No Mercy is cruel. No Mercy is a bully. No Mercy is the Korean equivalent of Eric Carmen giving us amazing songs that lift our spirits while simultaneously calling us libtards on Twitter.
And I will be watching and recapping every single episode.
Stay tuned.
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