It is strongly recommended to watch the series before reading this review.
The highly anticipated series, Squid Game, finally released its second season last week. The first season became Netflix’s most-watched series in the platform’s history. Squid Game Season 2 is once again written and directed by Hwang Dong-hyuk. This season features several returning key cast members, including Lee Jung-jae, Wi Ha-joon, and Lee Byung-hun. With a total of 7 episodes (two fewer than the first season), does this second season manage to deliver the same gripping entertainment as its predecessor?
Following the events of the first season, Seong Gi-hun (played by Jung-jae) is determined to seek revenge on the mastermind of the Squid Game, known as The Front Man. His goal is to put an end to this deadly game. Over the course of two years, armed with resources and determination, Gi-hun monitors metro stations across Seoul, trying to track down the recruiters who serve as the game’s entry point. Instead, Gi-hun ends up getting trapped and is forced to participate in the game once again. With relentless efforts, he tries to stop the game, but the dark side of human nature proves impossible to eradicate.
A sequel to Squid Game was inevitable given the phenomenal success of its first season. Back then, I praised it highly, stating, “Squid Game is a brilliant blend of compelling writing, entertainment, aesthetics, and depth, even if its brutal nature isn’t for everyone,” and I gave it a score of 90/100. The first season was refreshing, full of tension, surprises, and moral relevance to current societal issues. It set a high bar that the second season had to reach without falling into the trap of becoming a routine sequel.
The element of surprise that defined the first season is no longer the central focus in this new installment. We already know the nature of the game and that casualties will follow. This necessitated a different approach to the narrative. Enter Gi-hun and The Front Man (Hwang In-ho), who now participates as a contestant. Jun-ho (In-ho’s brother, revealed in the first season) should have had a larger role, but here, he is reduced to a minor subplot rather than being integral to the main storyline. The dynamic between Gi-hun and In-ho forms the crux of this season’s narrative.
The inclusion of In-ho as a participant is a twist that, while somewhat predictable, could either be a brilliant narrative strategy or a misstep depending on how his character is handled. Throughout the season, his identity remains carefully concealed. Meanwhile, Gi-hun becomes the only contestant with prior knowledge of the game, giving the script potential for fresh ideas and keeping the audience’s curiosity alive. What would Gi-hun do, knowing the dangers ahead? This is cleverly explored in the first game without forcing Gi-hun into the role of a hero.
The script avoids the trap of recycling old ideas. The second and third games introduce entirely new concepts, delivering shocks consistent with the tone of the first season. The tension remains high, and Gi-hun’s prior experience proves inadequate to anticipate the dangers. The conflict now centers on two opposing factions: the “Red” group aiming to stop the game and the “Blue” group seeking its continuation. Clashes—verbal and physical—between the groups are inevitable. The character dynamics also add variety, including influencers, ex-military personnel, an elderly woman, a young couple, a pregnant woman, and LGBTQ characters, as narrative gimmicks. The gameplay reaches a fever pitch, nearly rivaling the intensity of the bridge game from the first season. The stakes escalate further towards the final episodes—until a glaring absurdity derails it all.
What happens next in the script is baffling. It feels as though the writers rushed to wrap up the story without proper reasoning. We must remember that Gi-hun’s noble motive—to end the Squid Game—stems from his humanity, which is also the moral heart of the story.
Yet inexplicably, Gi-hun initiates a plan that is both brutal and nonsensical: storming the game’s “control room” with reckless abandon. His method involves sacrificing fellow “Red” teammates to seize weapons from the guards (???). How could they possibly account for what awaits outside, the number of guards, spare ammunition, or even the path to the control room? This absurdity undermines all the carefully built narrative threads. It’s unfathomable how Gi-hun could conceive such a savage plan, especially given that there’s no character development to suggest such a drastic shift in his demeanor.
Season 2 of Squid Game strives hard to explore its story without feeling forced or repetitive—until the ridiculous climax that unravels its own plot. What, then, was the point of all the meticulous narrative twists? We know everyone wants this series to continue, but what’s the value without a coherent and logical storyline? This season is merely a money-making machine for its platform, destined to persist until audiences grow tired. The show’s theme of human greed seems to mirror the production’s motives. It’s a pity, as this series had the potential for greater depth if handled wisely. Reportedly, seasons three and four are already in production. If there were a red button to “opt out” of this series, I’d be the first to press it.
