Turning on the first episode of Link Click you are immediately greeted with fast paced dialogue and a stylish artwork that is both modern and yet different from what we are used to seeing. Its first priority is to set up its fantastical time-traveling mechanics, then following that up with the structure and commentary you will be getting all throughout the show, leading to a plot twist right before a banger of an ending song hits. All of it feels purposefully structured so that you know from the get-go what kind of show you’re getting into, and I can certainly appreciate the snappy pacing that doesn’t waste your time. Not only that, the first episode already shows you a glimpse of what it is building towards in the long run even if that element is going to very, very slowly crawl its way to the forefront, eventually changing its own approach to storytelling drastically as we are seeing in the early parts of season 2.

On an episode to episode basis, this show is really good at always giving you what you expect from it. If anything, some episodes are a bit too consistent. Namely, there are a LOT of cliffhangers. At least the side-effect of that is that the ending song is now engraved in my mind from how it starts playing over those last scenes every, single, time.

Link Click is about a photography shop that just so happens to have two of its workers be the holders of superpowers: Lu Guang has a clairvoyance that allows him to see everything happening around a picture or recording for twelve hours, while Cheng Xiaoshi can dive into the picture, taking over the body of the person who shot it. Their friend Qiao Ling takes in requests from customers, so that Lu Guang figures out how they can go about fulfilling the request, and Cheng Xiaoshi is the one that actually goes back in time to get the job done, said job generally being dealing with someone’s regret to ease their pain. It is a pretty straightforward dynamic that takes their personality in account — although I will admit that Qiao Ling is much less of a well-realized character than the other two as of season one —, primarily with Lu Guang being the more stoic one that guides Cheng Xiaoshi, who not only has the power to go back in time, but actually prefers to get right in the middle of trouble.

Another great thing about this setup is that it takes advantage of an episodic structure to explore different kinds of regrets, but since Cheng Xiaoshi inherits the emotions (and some of the memories? Apparently?) of the people he takes over, there is a threshold to how much he can stop himself from getting involved, despite Lu Guang’s constant warnings about not messing with the timeline — which happens, as expected, and this is no spoiler, but it is important that all of it begins with Cheng Xiaoshi genuinely wanting to help someone.

After somehow ending up with a dangerous power like this they still decided to use that to help other people, no doubt knowing how emotionally taxing it could end up being. Being in someone else’s shoes and knowing you are the only person that will ever have the opportunity of making it a little easier for them while also having to keep yourself in check to avoid the butterfly effect is something I would also struggle with in Cheng Xiaoshi’s position. If this entire scenario speaks to you personally in any way, then you will probably find the overall empathy that this story advocates for very heartwarming. I’d go as far as to say that is the core emotional appeal of the story, it seems as if the idea of using these abilities for their own benefit never even crossed these people’s minds.

The writers and director of the show certainly have the skill necessary to drag this execution for the whole season, leading to yet another banger — this being the last episode — that properly loops back with the first one. Script-wise, this is very tightly written. Most of the confusing moments seem to stem from weird translations to english and the fact that characters speak very fast, which from my experience is quite common in Chinese productions.

Watching a donghua can be both weird and fascinating if you’re only used to japanese animations, which I’m guessing you probably are. I can’t claim to understand them nearly to the extent that I understand the more common, otaku-centered anime, but trying to make sense of the different sensibilities is a kind of entertainment by itself.

I found it quite interesting just how much the show was willing to indulge in the emotions of every scene, every story, and how much soul it has despite not dealing with anything that is particularly impressive on paper. This show’s greatest strength is its simplicity, so much so that it could have afforded to have A LOT more exposition to explain all the mechanics of the character’s powers, yet sees no reason to do that because your attention should be in the drama and not any technicality.

Something else that is quite different is just how slow the protagonist’s progression is. They are lenses for the other character’s stories and through interacting with those stories you can glean details about the kind of people they are. I can see how some people might react to this by reading it as the main characters being very shallow, which I don’t agree with. It is very clearly intentional, so it should be read as more of a different approach than a failing. We have very little background for what happened before the show started, but there is a difference between trying to deliver that and failing or doing what this show does, which is to simply focus on other aspects of it.

I didn’t cry in any episode (that is a me problem by the way, not a criticism of the show), but I found something to care about emotionally in every one of them. Be it Emma’s pain caused by distance and the pressure of early-adult life, the sheer unavoidable tragedy that can befall some families or the agonizing process of drifting away from past friendships. Not a single person in this story has it easy. It is all very down to earth, very human drama that lends this show an attitude of living in the present (ironic, I know) that I appreciate very much.

Wanting to go back to fix past mistakes is something every single human being has thought about, you would be hard-pressed to find something more universal, and while it would be useful to be like these characters and actually do it, the show makes it a point out of treating it as the emotionally scarring thing it would actually be. Living things through the first time isn’t easy, reliving them and being able to enact less change than you would want and potentially making things worse is even harder.

The world isn’t just enough to give us second chances. These characters are getting but an inkling of it and even that may come with an unexpected price. What we can learn from it is that not only are we going to keep carrying that weight (if you know, you know), but also that we currently have in our hands all the tools we will ever have to correct things, so quit overthinking it, why ya mind overclouded?

If this review felt shorter than my previous ones, that's because it is. I might or might not do another review for season 2, hopefully a longer one. The chances of that actually happening are higher if the story indeed concludes with two seasons.

Also, all the ops and eds in this show are amazing. You are going to listen to them. This is not a request.