The Thai drama 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us has ended, and it has taken my heart with it. When a series strikes a chord within me, I am very vocal about it, writing multiple pieces hoping others will take the time to discover the magic. 180 Degree Longitude is one of those series, but for the final review, I will simply focus on the people in it, the connection between them, and why these connections touched me.

180 Degree Longitude feels revolutionary. It makes us think about the control we live under, whether in our personal lives or politically. It makes us think about the world and our parts in it. It opens hearts, minds, and eyes, allowing viewers into a story about three people and their grief while also asking us to question life and love. From beginning to end, 180 Degree Longitude offered viewers nuanced dialogue full of double meaning and abstract symbolic pieces meant to be interpreted differently by everyone who consumes it. Like the journey Wang takes to learn more about his father and himself, we are all on a journey to discover who we are and about the people around us.

A line and a bridge are essential symbolic motifs used in the drama. Real or imagined lines divide the world and the people in it by geography, emotions, and our personal beliefs. Wang, Sasiwimol, and Inthawut represent these lines. They represent the divide between generations, politics, and thought. It takes a lot to bridge the gaps between all of that.

Wang (actor Pond Ponlawit) is youth and revolution, his naïve innocence and ideological approach to the world mirroring what many youths today feel and think. From the child to the adolescent, the world is a massive, awe-inspiring place full of adventure, a world full of things that can be overcome and changed. The young are curious because they’re searching for answers, whether it’s questions about themselves, the future, or life in general, and they are open to understanding things in a way adults may not be. That understanding gives them an unbiased knowledge that we should heed rather than ignore. The young get hurt, but they learn and grow from that hurt. But first, they have to be willing to be hurt.

Inthawut (actor Nike Nitidon) is a flawed and scarred adult full of fear and regret, making him the most relatable, yet equally frustrating, character to those who have been through trauma. He chose to run away from the world, living isolated from society inside a seemingly ideal utopia he thinks will keep him safe. He lives inside his thoughts and the books he learns from and hides behind. He’s wise and learned, but he’s closed himself off from the adventures that allow people to learn as much from each other as we do from the books we study. There’s a young Inthawut inside of him he still relates to, one that allows him to open up to the youthful understanding Wang offers while his scars, experiences, and fear also hold him back. He’s someone who knows that change needs to happen, but resists it because he’s afraid of losing the safety he thinks he’s found and afraid to hurt those he loves. It’s hard to accept yourself when you carry the weight and shame of feeling like your choices have cost other people theirs.

Sasiwimol “Mol” (actress Kathaleeya Mam) is a conservative but melodramatic adult that represents society/government as much as she represents herself. She’s proud, vain, and selfish. She’s often the center of attention and thrives off the affection and time people invest in her. While there’s a lot about Mol that infuriates and drives viewers away, this is precisely the role she’s meant to play. But one fact remains, she does truly love her son. However, she doesn’t own him.

The characters’ differences, the lines that separate them, ultimately affect how they interact with each other, especially Wang and Mol, and what they teach each other. Although Mol tries to emotionally force Wang to stay by her side, it has the opposite effect. Her secrecy, lies, and prejudiced views make Wang bolder, encouraging him to discover life and the truths she’s hidden from him. Like the globe he carries, he’s trying to find the world and the realities his father knew while also trying to find himself. In the process, he stumbles on Inthawut, a man who learns as much from Wang as Wang learns from him. Wang sees beneath people, encouraging Inthawut to step beyond the safety of his home. And while this seems much more significant than any lesson Inthawut could teach Wang, what Inthawut teaches Wang is just as important. Inthawut encourages Wang to follow his heart, but he also helps teach Wang that with love comes responsibility. And that responsibility includes Sasiwimol. Mol may be the least relatable character in 180 Degree Longitude because, in truth, our governments and our society are often the hardest things to relate to, but they are also the source of who we are. It’s our love for them that makes us want to transform them. There are good and bad things about Mol, things that are easy to pity and things we want to pull away from.

In retrospect, 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us taught me as much as it made me feel. From the breakable glass world Wang carries to the abstract paintings and books to the bridge Wang completes, 180 Degree Longitude symbolically bridged a gap and blurred the lines, revealing that life may be something we constantly question, but that the adventure we take while questioning it can teach us just as much about ourselves and each other as it does about life. To do so, we must step away from the fear inside us while often stepping away from the things we love (the way Wang does with Mol and later Inthawut) to see the truth more clearly.

Which brings me to Inthawut. I’ve written previously that I relate to him because, like him, I needed time to process who I am and the trauma I’d been through in order to step over the bridge standing between me and accepting who I am. Wang and Mol appeared in his life out of nowhere, making him face the past and himself. In only a few days, he endured being called both disgusting and a coward. In some ways, he is the coward Wang says he is, but he isn’t the disgusting person he gets accused of being. I’ve heard those words, and there’s nothing that hurts worse. The sad reality is that there will always be people who never find it in themselves to accept who they are. And if they do, it may be a silent thing no one else hears. I may be an activist now, but there was a time when I was that person in the middle, stuck between compromise and desire.

Wang returns to his mother, not to give her what she wants, but because he realizes that no matter how far he goes, there will always be people like his mother. He realizes that when people like Inthawut find it in themselves to change, if they ever do and if they ever can, they bring enough power and experience to make big changes. That’s the gift Wang gives Inthawut. The gift Inthawut gives Wang is understanding and trust in himself. It’s Inthawut’s lack of trust in himself that teaches Wang. Love is a strange thing.

I first started my writing career in poetry and songwriting before taking a job in journalism and later delving into fiction. I was thirteen-years-old when my first poem was published and submitted by a teacher at school. I couldn’t tell you what book it was published in anymore, but I still remember it vividly word for word:

Ludicrous is he,

The tyrant that rules the past, you see.

Smug is she,

The ruler of now-a-day, forever to be. Enchanting will be the child,

Future’s eaves hanging from her hair so wild. And though we know them not by name,

We know their anger, their fire, their flame. We walk for miles so as not to be heard

Their obscure and haunting chanted words. Music is played not by talent but by ear.

As is this legend of a day, week, month, and year.

I looked into the eyes of the world, and what did I see?

I saw the eyes of the world looking back at me.

~Copyright ©️ 2022, R.K. Ryals~

The above poem is one of the few poems I’ve written that I still have memorized despite the amount of time that has passed. Much of it has to do with being thirteen and ready to face my past while finding my future. Much of it has to do with the frustration I felt over my father’s abuse because of his conservative views and later abandonment. At thirteen, I was Wang. Many years later, I became Inthawut, losing myself in writing, books, and my introverted nature. A few years later, after losing many of my family members, including my parents, to death, I found myself again and returned to being Wang, and my goals changed, as did my writing. The Inthawut the series ends with, is still looking for that peace, but Wang showed him the path he can walk if he chooses and built him the bridge to walk over when he’s ready if he ever finds it in himself to be ready. It seems like Inthawut may never choose a side, that fear and cowardice may keep him isolated. But I’m proof that isn’t so. It was harder for me to cross the bridge, every step I took was riddled with fear, self-loathing, and regrets, but when my feet touched the other side, I found power.

As much as Wang, Mol, and Inthawut represent politics and generations, they also represent time. There may be a clear divide between the past, present, and future, but the lines can blur, allowing us to learn from the past while challenging the present in order to fight for the future we want.

By the end of 180 Degree Longitude, the lines both blur and remain stalwart. The characters have developed a sense of responsibility toward each other even if it seems they remain firmly where they began. Wang, for one, has let go of the past and has learned to break free of the narrow-minded thoughts and ideas inside the world of secrets, lies, and intolerance he lives in. Goodbyes are bittersweet, but they are a way of letting go and moving forward.

There are a lot of tears inside 180 Degree Longitude, from both the viewers and the characters, and I feel like the tears are just as symbolic as everything else in this series. Not only are tears a way for the body to release emotion, but we don’t often know the reason why we’re crying. Life is about discovering the reason. Tears, while often associated with sadness, are also about realizing truth and accepting it.

Written and directed by Punnasak Sukee, 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us is a series that relates to every generation. As viewers, we are asked to survive the emotional journey Wang, Mol, and Inthawut take us on before setting us on a path towards starting on our own. And that’s an incredible feat for a drama.

As the lines that scrolled across the screen during the end credits revealed,

“To you who call yourself a parent, you can only give birth to them but you don’t own them. To you who are still young, you have to bleed first before you learn. To you who call themselves wise, don’t let your cowardice get the better of you. Pick a side or throw away what you believe in.”- 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us

The true line, the most important line, is inside ourselves. It’s a line that no matter what age we are, where we come from, and who we are, we have to face within ourselves. We have to decide how to cross that line and what we plan to do with that choice.

Like the glass globe that Siam gifted Wang and then Wang gifted Inthawut, the world is a fragile place always on the brink of breaking. What we do with that world once we make the choice to take hold of it depends on us.

The art direction by Nat Prakobsantisuk is brilliant. The OST sung by actor Pond Ponlawit is haunting. I wish I knew the names of everyone involved in this project. Even though I don’t, I hope they know how appreciated they are for the hard work, time, and attention taken to give us such a complex series. From the cinematography, art, music, and script to the actors portraying each character, 180 Degree Longitude is a passion project meant to leave an impression, and it certainly leaves an impression. I hope we see many more projects from this team.

For an intense narrative series full of chemistry, thought, and emotion, check out 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us on Gagaoolala.

Rating- 4.5 out of 5

This article is adapted from Overly Dramatic which is an entertainment site dedicated to promoting international series, films, and music from around the world, particularly Asia.