“An artist should recognize a metaphor” a character tells the show’s protagonist towards the end. And like Jin Soo Wan’s earlier shows, this one uses metaphor (in this case the trope of time travel) to explore how pain can become the garden in which art and joy grow, how parents can fail and save their children, and how it is not luck or fame or fortune but love that keeps us rooted in this broken world.

Most shows hesitate to mix comedy with serious themes, as if by merging the two, they’ll either destroy the lightness of the former or dilute the gravitas of the latter. Twinkling Watermelon explores child abuse, neglect, suicidal ideation, and discrimination against the deaf community, but it does so amidst a candy-colored swirl of music and unbridled teen exuberance. Its characters face real trauma, but they also laugh and flirt and rock out with their friends and wear their hearts on their sleeves for all to see. There are few dramas as unapologetic in their delight as this one, and even when plot points get messy or a random gang of thugs appears, the show’s warmth never falters. And in the end, it suggests that’s what truly matters both in art and life.

So to judge it by this criteria, does this show spark joy? Yes. So, so much. And its happy moments shine all the brighter for being set against the darkness.