Ready or not, “Squid Game” has returned.
The South Korean horror phenomenon that became Netflix’s most-watched series ever is back with a second season, featuring more lethal children’s games and haunting musical themes. It may seem familiar, but it’s not quite the same.
Three years have passed since the first season, and the world to which “Squid Game 2” (now streaming, ★★ out of four) returns is vastly different from 2021. Part of this change is due to the impact of “Squid Game” itself: what was once a shocking satire and critique of capitalism has become so widespread and popular that it risks being oversimplified into mere punchlines and memes.
Lee Jung-jae reprises his role as Seong Gi-hun in “Squid Game.”
The highly anticipated return of Netflix’s most-watched series arrives with immense expectations and a new context. Unfortunately, the new season falls short, feeling both underwhelming and unfinished. While some elements remain consistent—such as Lee Jung-jae’s piercing, Emmy-winning performance, the iconic teal tracksuits, masked men in pink hoods, and the abundance of blood and shocking violence—the show lacks the bite, idealism, and apparent care of its predecessor. The plot’s outlandishness demands an even greater suspension of disbelief, and the seven-episode season ends with unresolved narrative threads, resulting in a loss of the series’ former nuance and uniqueness.
Season 2 picks up precisely where Season 1 concluded, on an airport jetway with the unlikely hero, Seong Gi-hun (played by Lee), deciding to confront the orchestrators of the brutal “games” from the previous season. As you may remember, Gi-hun emerged victorious, winning a substantial fortune by competing in life-or-death children’s games against other destitute participants for the entertainment of wealthy spectators. Instead of quietly accepting his 45.6 billion won (approximately $31 million), Gi-hun dedicates his newfound wealth to discovering and dismantling the games. The first episode swiftly advances three years, showing Gi-hun funding efforts to locate the enigmatic recruiter who once invited him to the games by searching subway stations.
Squid Game S2 features Lee Byung-hun as the Front Man.
In the meantime, Seoul police officer Hwang Jun-ho (played by Wi Ha-joon) resumes his search for his missing brother in Season 2. In the previous season, he infiltrated the deadly games and discovered that his brother, In-ho (portrayed by Lee Byung-hun), was the masked “Front Man” orchestrating the entire operation. In-ho shot Jun-ho, who subsequently fell off a cliff but survived after being rescued by a fisherman. Now, Jun-ho dedicates his free time to combing through the numerous islands off the coast, hoping to locate the one hosting the gruesome children’s games.
Without revealing too many details, Gi-hun eventually finds himself back in the games, where he strives to save lives among the 455 new participants. This season introduces a diverse and desperate group of characters, including a YouTuber who lost everything by investing in the wrong cryptocurrency, a compulsive gambler and his mother, a transgender woman who lost her livelihood after coming out, and yet another friend of Gi-hun’s—proving he has connections in some dire circumstances.
The new games in Season 2 are serviceable, with some even appearing highly engaging—aside from the fatal consequence of losing. Lee continues to deliver an exceptional performance. Notably, the introduction of the trans character Hyun-ju, portrayed by cisgender actor Park Sung-hoon, adds a compelling new perspective that was missing in Season 1.
However, the rest of Season 2 largely induces cognitive dissonance and frustration. The latter half devolves into a fairly generic action sequence, building up to an underwhelming climax and an inconclusive ending. It feels as though director and creator Hwang Dong-hyuk originally conceived Seasons 2 and 3 as a single narrative and then split it to extend the series for another season on Netflix.
Park Sung-hoon as Cho Hyun-ju in “Squid Game.”
Three years after its unexpected success, it’s challenging to reconcile with what “Squid” has evolved into. At its essence, “Squid” is a potent anti-capitalist narrative, offering a searing critique of South Korean culture—and by extension, all capitalist societies—highlighting the profound inequities embedded within a system obsessed with perpetual economic growth. In this narrative, the villains are the opulent gluttons, and the heroes are the struggling poor, with the game representing the systemic mechanism that subjugates one group for the benefit of the other.
However, it’s impossible to overlook the irony of “Squid” itself becoming a capitalist tool, emerging as Netflix’s dazzling crown jewel, racking up billions of viewing hours, driving awards campaigns, and spawning tie-ins with companies like Duolingo, as well as a controversial reality-TV spinoff. This external context dilutes the series’ foundational critique. Moreover, Season 2 fails to uphold Hwang’s anti-capitalist message, becoming so entangled in its own details that it loses its political focus.
It’s a significant disappointment, and the reasons behind it remain uncertain, along with who might be responsible. Was Hwang genuinely interested in extending the story, or did the success of Season 1 compel the series to continue beyond its natural conclusion? Perhaps clarity will come with the release of Season 3, scheduled for 2025.