‘Squid Game’ Season 2 Serves More Gory Satire With a Slightly Blunted Edge 

Alci Rengifo

When Netflix’s “Squid Game” premiered in 2021, the world was still living through the aftershocks of the pandemic lockdowns and a general mood against our billionaire overlords was only getting stronger. The South Korean production became a surprise smash hit for the streamer, garnering instant cult status and winning a few Emmys along the way. It also inspired a whole line of Halloween costumes. Season two now arrives with lockdown over and anger at the corporate class only heating up. Its great challenge is proving a premise that worked well as a one season story still has legs. The idea is the main currency of “Squid Game” when you consider how wacky the plot can get, including its over-the-top performances. Season two does not match season one and now feels blunter. This does not mean it isn’t an entertaining escape.

Last season ended with our hero Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae) having won the deadly dystopian game on a secret island, pitting desperate participants against each other for a massive pot of money. You may recall he decided at the last minute not to get on a plane bound for the United States, preferring to stay in South Korea to hunt down the mysterious forces behind the game. He still has the money but is a driven man, living in a run-down motel while paying his former loan shark and his goons to help track down the mysterious Recruiter (Gong Yoo), who finds new players. Meanwhile, Hwang Jun-ho (Wi Ha-joon) has become a regular traffic cop after his own ordeal with the game during which he discovered that its apparent head, The Front Man (Lee Byung-hun), was actually his brother. Despite his captain begging Hwang to return to the major crimes beat, Hwang is hesitant. No one believes his claims anyway about the secret island, which he tries to find at night by venturing out to sea with a boat captain who rescued him when he escaped the last time. When the Recruiter finally reappears, Gi-hun sees his chance to infiltrate the game and Hwang might get a second chance to redeem himself.

There is already a bit of a warning light in how it takes “Squid Game” nearly three episodes to get to its main premise and attraction. The first few episodes function like an oddball cat and mouse game as Gi-hun and his hired hands scour to find the salesman and he deals with PTSD, flashbacks and the usual you would expect from a guy who survived a version of the hunger games. Returning director Hwang Dong-hyuk, who keeps the aesthetic spirit of the first season in place, and the writing team still find ways to throw in their trademark critiques of consumer culture. When the Recruiter first appears, he plays a diabolical game with random targets that include the homeless. He offers them the choice between bread and a lottery ticket. Almost everyone, except for one smart soul, takes the ticket only to discover they have won nothing. Cruel jokes of this kind show why the first season became such a hit. We are all constantly choosing between gambling in the economy and subsisting. Things escalate when the salesman catches some of Gi-hun’s goons and forces them to play even crueler games that eventually culminate with Russian roulette. These moments feel like “Saw” with higher pop philosophy thrown into the dialogue. Those who enjoy flinching at this show’s gore will enjoy how it instantly delivers when Gi-hun finds an airport bathroom to cut open the back of his ear with a box cutter, to find a track device. 

“Squid Game” could have simply found new characters to throw into peril, but with Lee Jung-jae having gained instant popularity and winning an Emmy, they had to find a way to get his character back on the mysterious island. Of course he makes it back just in time for the show to introduce new players we will grow accustomed and attached to throughout the season. To raise the stakes, Gi-hun’s friend Jung-bae (Lee Seo-hwan) from season one is now a player. There’s also Jang Geum-ja (Kang Ae-shim) and her son Park Yong-sik (Yang Dong-geun). You always need a character that is a blatant critique of some aspect of pop culture, for that we get Thanos (Choi Seung-hyun), an arrogant rapper who doesn’t mind offering selfies. More controversial than the violence so far this season, is the casting of cisgender male actor Park Sung-hoon to play a trans woman named Hyun-ju. The performance is fine but it is a testament to how in South Korea, trans artists are finding an even tougher road into TV roles. At least the writing does explore prejudice through Jang, who looks aghast at Hyun-ju before her son explains that it’s normal for someone to transition.

Still set within the surreal, colorful architecture of the game, “Squid Game” has lost the dynamism of when the idea was fresh. Yet, it still finds ways to renew its premise with new twists. Having won before, Gi-hun is no longer a confused outsider and instantly takes the lead of his group, warning them about upcoming threats. The best addition is giving players the choice to vote whether they want to stay or keep playing, meaning the game will only end if a majority vote to leave. If you stay and more people die, the money pot grows even bigger. Details like that keep the show’s anti-capitalist spirit viciously going, even when it drags a bit. It’s rather hilarious how the crimson overseers of the game assure everyone that their autonomy will always be respected. Side storylines involving people outside of the island or Gi-hun’s estranged daughter feel like they simply go around in circles. What really matters is what happens on the island and how the golden piggy bank hanging high above keeps filling up. Stripped of its core appeal, “Squid Game” has dialogue that borders on ludicrous and acting that goes beyond soapy and melodramatic. Yet, somehow this season stays entertaining by continuing to tap into how we all at times feel like the world is becoming more of a predatory game.

“Squid Game” season two begins streaming Jan. 26 on Netflix.