The best way to experience Netflix’s hit new show “Squid Game” is in the dark. No, not in a dark room, although that may help set the mood for this dystopian thriller. In this case, “in the dark” means that watching “Squid Game” is most entertaining when you start the show knowing absolutely nothing about it.
This, however, is proving to be progressively more difficult, as the series has quickly become the topic of memes and conversations galore. In fact, it is almost impossible to scroll through social media without seeing some sort of reference to a giant mechanical doll or characters in numbered green tracksuits.
So should you stop reading this article right now to start binging “Squid Game”? The short answer is yes, if no other reason than to keep up with conversation and avoid the fear of missing out, a.k.a, FOMO. But before you open a new tab and type in Netflix, there are, perhaps, just a few things to know prior to deciding to watch.
First, “Squid Game” contains graphic violence. The bloody scenes are not quite as gratuitous as, say, a Quentin Tarantino film, but if violence and gore are not your thing, you might want to skip out on this one.
Second, the show is South Korean, meaning that yes, there are subtitles. If you plan to watch it, you should fully experience it—give “Squid Game” its due and avoid watching it dubbed.
Lastly, while the first episode has a bit of a slow start, the nine-part series is bingeable, with each episode leaving you eager to see what happens next. Do not start the show unless you have successfully survived your midterms or are at least willing to accept the consequence of plummeting productivity.
Now, if you have not watched “Squid Game” yet, go see it before reading more—the rest of this article contains spoilers.
“Squid Game” is a cross between the social commentary of the 2019 film “Parasite” and the survivalist and bloodthirsty competition of “The Hunger Games.” As desperate and debt-ridden contestants compete for their lives—and roughly $38.5 million—through a series of children’s games, the show explores themes such as class struggle, greed, loss of innocence and the brutality—or conversely, the selflessness—exposed when faced with death.
The show, directed by Hwang Dong-hyuk, was released on Sept. 17 and rose to No. 1 in the U.S. by just its fourth day of availability, now surpassing the record for most views in a month previously set by “Bridgerton.”
While wildly popular, the show has also received some criticism, mainly for hitting too close to home. One of the major themes that drives the plot, household debt, is a serious problem in South Korea, as is suicide. The two are inextricably linked, as household debt is one of the leading causes of suicide in the country. This context perhaps explains the grim reality of why the characters in the show are so desperate to win the giant piggy bank of cash, despite the high moral cost.
It also illustrates why the competitors would willingly return to the Squid Game, even after knowing they would likely die a brutal, merciless death. As one of the characters stated when comparing the horrors of the competition to the horrors of the real world, “In here, I stand a chance at least. But out there? I got nothing out there. I’d rather stay here and die trying, than die out there like a dog.”
The show has even sparked interest in the North Korean government and provided fodder for negative propaganda against its bordering country. One state-run website used the series to disparage South Korean society, stating that “Squid Game” highlights the “beastly” aspects of “South Korean capitalist society where mankind is annihilated by extreme competition.”
Are North Korea’s attacks that far from the truth? As director Dong-hyuk said himself, “I wanted to write a story that was an allegory or fable about modern capitalist society, something that depicts an extreme competition, somewhat like the extreme competition of life.”
“Squid Game” is the kind of series that leaves you thinking. Beyond its dismal themes, captivating character development and compelling imagery—did you notice the story told by the murals in the bunk room?—the show fosters all sorts of conversation, from discussing society’s ills to contemplating why Gi-hun dyes his hair a bright red at the show’s completion. Furthermore, “Squid Game” has great re-watch capability, as the surprise ending makes you reconsider several scenes throughout the series.
Only complaints? Aside from the tacky voices and dialogue of the English-speaking aristocrats, the explanation for the creation of the Squid Game leaves a lot to be desired. The viewers are holding their breath the entire show, only to release a disappointed “oh” when the mystery is finally revealed. Is wanting to feel something again, by essentially horse betting on humans, really enough to justify the gruesome murders of 455 people?
As one reviewer so eloquently put it, this “painfully thin” justification demonstrates that “those who play the Squid Game are subject to the most banal and juvenile philosophizing of those who, because of lucky breaks in life, get to determine everyone else’s reality.”
Perhaps most disappointing is that the series is obviously geared towards a second season, which feels greedy—and a little ironic—given that a central theme of the show is the condemnation of greed. “Squid Game” is a phenomenon that would best remain a one-season-wonder, and while the director has noted he’s uncertain if there will be a sequel, it seems unlikely that there wouldn’t be one.
Regardless, “Squid Game” is a must-watch show, both for the sake of pop-culture and for its eerie juxtaposition of the innocence of childhood games and the brutal realism of adulthood.
