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“A most welcome return to this hellish world”

“A most welcome return to this hellish world”

No Ju-han/ Netflix (Source: No Ju-han/ Netflix)No Ju-han/Netflix

The brutal Korean satire became a global phenomenon when it premiered in 2021. Her return is no less brutal – and is likely to be just as big a success this time.

Back in September 2021, an unusual Korean television series that portrayed an allegory about the evils of late capitalism became the surprise global hit of the year. Squid game lured viewers — like the game’s contestants at the center of the show — with candy-colored sets, masked guards running around in pink jumpsuits, and contestants cutely dressed in matching green tracksuits as they all played traditional Korean childhood games together. Then the slaughter began.

The success of the macabre Korean-language horror series was such a real TV phenomenon that it is currently over 265 million views. It’s also arguably the streamer’s bloodiest and most violent show, with hundreds of gruesome, obvious murders.

However, all this violence is necessary, creator and director Hwang Dong-hyuk would argue, because “Squid Game” is his brutal satire on South Korea’s wealth and class divides. As he and Netflix discovered, the themes behind dystopian horror are universal and the grotesque story was a huge hit around the world. A follow-up season (and a third) were immediately commissioned, and now, three years later, the second season is set to send a chill through the holidays with its not-so-festive release the day after Christmas.

The first season focuses on Seong Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae), a gambling addict who joins 455 other destitute people who agree to play a series of games in the hope of winning some money. But they’re trapped on an island, playing games like marbles in front of an audience of a mysterious masked cabal – with a deadly twist: if they don’t win, they’ll be murdered by the guards.

This would be a pure slasher story; Wouldn’t there be a moral conundrum that the players would pose? The prize fund increases by 100 million Korean won ($70,000/£55,000) every time someone is killed, meaning players could win up to 45.6 billion won ($31 million/£25 million), if they are the last ones standing; A tempting suggestion for the desperate assembled group, who can also leave the games – but only if the majority do so.

At the end of the first season, Gi-hun “victorious” – if there is ever a triumph in escaping death but watching more than 400 people being slaughtered around you – and vowed to find out who was really behind the games . (Some spoilers ahead)

The first time we see him in the new season is a cold, harsh opening that immediately recalls the high level of gorecore of the first season. He lies naked in a public toilet and bloodily stabs out the tracking chips implanted in his flesh. When a little boy enters the room, Gi-hun says nonchalantly, “I’m sorry… could you give me five minutes?” The laughter Jung-jae elicits at this perfect comic timing gently eases the tension – this second season is undoubtedly funnier than the last – and sets up the rest of the episode, which largely leans into the humor of Gi-hun recruiting the mafia squad of his former loan sharks.

But the comedic gang of gangsters Gi-hun has hired to scour Seoul’s subway stations lulls the audience into a false sense of security. They try to find the recruiter, the man in the suit who plays the paper envelope ddakji Play and recruit players for Squid Game, and when they do, the bloodshed begins again. You will never be able to play Rock, Paper, Scissors in the same light again.

Squid Game has no solutions to the fictional, bleak and sadistic world it presents, nor to the real world it reflects; Just a reminder that the house always wins at the expense of the players

In the later episodes, Gi-hun returns for a brand new round of Squid Game. This time, however, he’s there to unmask the Games’ leader, the mysterious frontman (Lee Byung-hun, in full, creepy form) that viewers will recognize from the first series – a privilege not granted by Gi-hun is unable to make the connection when he appears undercover somewhere else.

With all of the previous contestants killed off, director Hwang has the luxury of having a near-empty roster of characters for the second season, and he’s focusing on some exciting backstories for this new, ragtag group. There’s a mother and her gambling-addicted son, both shocked when they realize the other is in there; vulnerable young women, former Marines, a crypto influencer and a menacing, pill-throwing rapper (in a lovely Easter egg for Korean music fans, played with gusto by rapper Choi Seung-hyun, also known as TOP) who lost all his money after purchasing the cryptocurrency recommended by the aforementioned influencer.

However, this time there is also the origin story of a desperate woman, No-eul (the calm and intense Park Gyu-young), who fled North Korea but was forced to leave her baby behind: the revelation that she is one of the guards, adds an extra layer of clever intrigue to this menacing fable.

What’s interesting about this series is that Gi-hun, who returns to the game to warn the participants of her impending death, is treated like Cassandra: either they don’t believe what he says, or they don’t want to. In the age of fake news, participants can convince themselves that whatever is in their interest is true: that Gi-hun is a “madman” or a plant.

This disagreement only intensifies when participants are forced to vote on whether the game should continue, splitting into teams “X” (who vote to leave the game) and “O” (who want to continue playing). In a well-observed microcosm of our own fractured society – online, in politics and in culture wars – this translates into hateful violence. A four-minute sequence of a horrific, strobe-lit brawl is perhaps the most gruesome scene you’ll see on television all year (along with several other organ harvesting shots that have to be watched with your hand over your eyes); but shows how people are manipulated by those in power to attack each other instead of fighting the root of evil together.

In press releases about the new series, director Hwang said: “Based on the players in the game, I wanted to ask: Isn’t this what our society looks like now? Aren’t these people exactly what we are? Things that were bizarre and unrealistic a decade ago have unfortunately become very realistic today.” Squid Game has no solutions for the fictional, bleak and sadistic world it presents, nor for the real world it reflects; Just a reminder that the house always wins at the expense of the players.

There’s no doubt that Squid Game’s second season will probably be just as big as the first. The games are just as surreal and perverse, the murders just as frequent, the shootings numerous. It also confirms that it is the role of a lifetime for Lee Jung-jae, whose expressive face conveys the horrors of what he is experiencing; the only voice of reason in a crazy world. He won Emmy for Best Male Actor for Drama in 2022; I’m sure there will be more on the show at the next ceremony.

Although it’s a bit long – at seven episodes, it’s two episodes shorter than the last series, but some of the repetitive voting and shooting scenes can drag – and the reveal of a devious character felt obvious from the start, but it is a very welcome return to this hellish world. The series ends abruptly; with a cliffhanger and a flash of a mid-credits scene that lays the groundwork for a third season due out in 2025. It’s a convoluted, frustrating ending for viewers, but hey, isn’t that the name of the game?

Squid Game Series 2 releases on Netflix on December 26th.

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