As a lifelong student of human nature and society, I find myself utterly captivated by the intricate web that is “Squid Game“. Coming from someone who has spent years observing the world around me, often through the lens of my South Asian upbringing, this series resonates deeply.

Light spoilers for Squid Game season two follow.

In simpler terms, the show “Squid Game” is far from subtle. It presents violent scenes of people being executed with sniper rifles due to their debt problems, a large golden piggy bank filled with money tainted by blood, and wealthy elites wearing golden animal masks symbolizing their high status – these are not images suggesting ambiguity. In its second season, premiered on Netflix last Thursday, “Squid Game” delves deeper into brutality and dystopia, introducing new competitors and new deadly games they must play. While it may become repetitive at times, it remains impactful with shocking cliffhangers and unexpected betrayals that draw viewers further into the dark, cynical world of “Squid Game” – a place where hope is considered foolishness.

Creator Hwang Dong-hyuk initiates the second season of Squid Game right at the end of the first’s finale, as winner Seong Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae) decides to avenge those responsible for the games instead of visiting his estranged daughter in America. Although Creator Oh Il-nam, who disguised himself as a regular player during Gi-hun’s journey, may be deceased, the recruiter (Gong Yoo), overseer Front Man (Lee Byung-hun), and the mysterious VIP gamblers are still at large. Enthralled by their pursuit, Gi-hun teams up with disgraced detective Hwang Jun-ho (Wi Ha-joon), who was involved in the investigation of the island and the search for his missing brother In-ho throughout season one. However, neither of their superiors believe Jun-ho’s accounts of people being coerced to play children’s games until they perish, while Gi-hun has severed ties with everyone from his old life. As they grow more and more consumed by their quest for vengeance, their shared isolation brings them closer together. (It is also worth noting that Gi-hun remains unaware of Jun-ho’s brother being the Front Man, and Jun-ho has personal motivations of his own.)

In the second season’s opening, a thrilling chase sequence involving Gi-hun and Jun-ho is presented, serving to heighten the tension of a heist-based plot – a genre where our enjoyment hinges on the success of the main characters. The show aims to instill in us a sense of optimism for Gi-hun’s survival, similar to how The Hunger Games: Catching Fire sets up its protagonists. Consequently, when the series repeatedly subverts this expectation, the emotional impact is intensified.

As I find myself back on the island, I’m thrust into a new role as a straight man and leader among an eclectic group of individuals. There’s Jung-Bae (Lee Seo-hwan), a fellow factory comrade and friend; MG Coin (Yim Si-wan), a smooth-talking crypto enthusiast who swindled people with his dubious advice; Hyun-ju (Park Sung-hoon), a brave trans military veteran saving for her transition surgery; and then there’s the enigmatic In-ho, disguised as Player 001, infiltrating my group to sabotage our chances. Lee Seo-hwan delivers an exceptional, chilling performance of a man who once triumphed in these games yet lost his family and soul.

If you’re a fan of George Carlin, you may find that the Netflix series Squid Game echoes his thoughts about the working class aligning with the wealthy due to the illusion that they could someday become part of that elite group. (“They’ll get it all from you, sooner or later, ’cause they own this place. It’s a big club, and you ain’t in it.”) Squid Game seems to criticize its own popularity, portraying the anger towards the powerful oppressing the powerless, but also expressing a growing bitterness towards the proletariat – those who are swayed by the promises of hope from the upper class and their ilk. The show asks how much your friends, family, or loved ones are truly worth to you. A chaotic game reminiscent of musical chairs underscores this message, as players must quickly form alliances with newcomers and race each other to safety; the treacherous actions that ensue imply that we should be wary of those who seem kind. The stress level in this scene pales in comparison to the group votes, where people willingly vote for their own demise if it means someone else’s life might be ruined instead. Squid Game suggests that democracy, with its potential for self-destruction, may be the greatest villain of all.

The skepticism towards individuals’ self-governance seems a tad authoritarian, given that Squid Game likely aimed for a more chaotic atmosphere; another episode might have provided a smoother transition from the hastily executed uprising that gives the finale an ending similar to Andor. However, Squid Game deliberately challenges its categorization as escapist programming during the pandemic and engages in broader discussions about power dynamics and societal change, which is both daring and relevant, considering the contrasting outcomes of the U.S. presidential election in November and South Korea’s president’s impeachment in December following his failed martial law attempt. This season leans more towards philosophical discussions, reducing opportunities for Lee to showcase his humor; we don’t see any moments as memorable as his frantic dalgona licking, which serves as a reminder of the lighter tone from the previous season. Instead, Lee delivers a more subdued performance in Squid Game, mirroring his role in The Acolyte, as characters Gi-hun and Player 001 share some of the series’ most insightful reflections on why people refuse to accept what they require while continuing to chase their desires.

The first season of Squid Game presents its views on the negative aspects of capitalism, human nature, and society, early on: People are inherently selfish and cruel; society is often divisive and hostile; money can be both a powerful motivator and a dangerous weakness. In the second season, these ideas are explored more deeply, posing challenging questions such as: Is it justifiable to use violence as a means of influence? Should we approach the future with pessimism or optimism? The dialogue rarely feels didactic but rather serves to build an immersive world. If you enjoy philosophy discussions interspersed with bursts of violence, you’ll find these debates captivating. For those more interested in the game’s grotesque carnival atmosphere and its nightmarish candy-themed production design, it remains as impactful as before. Overall, the second season of Squid Game is at its best when portraying self-government as a form of madness, which resonates particularly well in today’s world.

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2024-12-26 12:55