Ghosts whisper, curses kill, and exorcisms have to be paused for school. Head Over Heels opens with Park Seong-ah performing a spirit banishment ritual, only to be interrupted by her alarm clock. She bolts out of her shrine, late again. It’s not that she doesn’t care about school; she wants to go to college, but balancing exorcisms, fatigue, and teenage pressure isn’t exactly a winning formula.
When Bae Gyeon-woo shows up at her door, accompanied by his grandmother and a rapidly ticking death omen, Seong-ah doesn’t hesitate. Before anything else, she asks what he’d do if he saw someone crying alone, a question that, for her, means everything.
He passes. He’s beautiful. And the moment she sees him, something clicks. A vision told her she’d meet the love of her life upside down, and that he’d be doomed to die. When he turns up in her classroom the next day, everything aligns. Determined to change his fate, she throws herself into protecting him, no matter how awkward or inconvenient that gets. Even if it means fighting ghosts in the boys’ bathroom.
Head Over Heels: It’s silly, sharp, and already sincere
The setup is full of classic school drama fuel: bullies, snarky teachers, awkward rumors. But Head Over Heels plays it with just enough mischief to stay fun. It knows how to use cliché without falling into it. Yes, the hot new transfer student ends up in the same class. Yes, fate seems hilariously punctual. But there’s chemistry here, and Head Over Heels doesn’t rush it. It lets things land with a wink.
Seong-ah isn’t a brooding psychic or a tragic heroine. She’s loud, blunt, occasionally chaotic, and deeply capable. Her powers aren’t spooky; they’re work. Head Over Heels treats shamanism less like mysticism and more like part-time labor, and that makes her character feel lived-in, even when she's running around with talismans and spiritual errands. She wears a mask at school to keep her identity hidden, afraid of being mocked, dismissed, or worse. She’s used to keeping her distance. But when the boy marked for death turns out to be the one who makes her heart race, everything shifts.
Comfort cave with a water ghost
There’s horror in Head Over Heels, yes, and it’s phenomenal. Head Over Heels plays with classic elements from Korean ghost films: the terrifying water spirit in the bathroom is pure nightmare fuel, conjuring images straight from Whispering Corridors, Ju-on or The Wailing. Wet hair, sloshing limbs, and eerie silence all work to create a properly chilling moment. But even with its nightmarish visuals, the show doesn’t spiral into dread. It holds the tension with a surprisingly light hand.
That’s part of what makes Seong-ah compelling. She doesn’t exorcise for shock or spectacle. She tries to guide spirits toward peace. Her rituals blend confrontation with compassion, and that emotional clarity adds unexpected depth. Head Over Heels isn’t just bright; it’s warm. Where shows like Oh My Ghost Clients deliver heavy social critique and emotional devastation, this series offers something gentler: a rom-com with spirits, curses, and second chances.
Head Over Heels is not guilty pleasure. It’s comfort cave drama. Silly but not cringy. Familiar but well-acted. Especially by Kim Yoo-jung, who brings Seong-ah to life with an expressive, slightly feral energy that balances comedy and sincerity. Her co-star still leans brooding for now, but it works. It’s only episode one, and it already feels like something worth holding onto.
Rating with a touch of flair: 5 out of 5 haunted hall passes.
Scary ghosts, sacred amulets, and a shaman who might just save her first love.