Squid Game season 2: Hit show returns more violent, bloody and relevant than ever
As opposed to season one, the second season of Squid Game takes a far slower route.
The opening episodes of Netflix’s long-anticipated second season of Squid Game flips the mirror towards the viewer. For almost half of its episodes, there are no games, squid or otherwise, being played. As opposed to season one, which wasted no time getting to its incredibly tense, high-stakes action, the second season takes a far slower route.
It leaves your bloodlust wanting as you watch a lengthy sequence in which our hero Seong Gi-hun gets a speeding ticket. Watching his ally Detective Hwang Jun-ho spend a couple of episodes puttering fruitlessly around the ocean in search of the mysterious Squid Game Island doesn’t quite ratchet up the anxiety and adrenaline in the same way as the deadly game of Red Light, Green Light did in the first episode of the show’s breakthrough first season.
Instead, there are a lot of set-ups. A lot of backstories. There are two years of show time, which almost matches the amount of real-world time between seasons, to catch up on. And while there are car chases, street fights, and two incredibly intense rounds of Russian roulette to nervously sit through, these aren’t what you’re tuning in for. We are here for the games.
It is the show’s purposeful delay of murderous gratification that transforms you from a passive viewer into a complicit spectator — one baying for blood and metaphorically sitting among the rich and powerful elites for whom the fatal competition is staged. In this light, it is a powerful piece of meta-commentary from a show that makes no bones about its views on capitalism, wealth inequality and class exploitation.
In wanting to rush to the “good bits”, eg the violent competition that sees its poor and down-and-out contestants competing in deathly playground games, you also become culpable for the hundreds of deaths that immediately occur when the games eventually do begin just before the midway point.
While this meta-flip is quite clever, it also means things get off to a slow start. And with only seven episodes in the season, it’s easy to feel a little shortchanged that so much time is spent away from the anxiety-inducing competition.
The pay-off, however, is worth it. And not just in the aforementioned metaphorical sense. While we learn about the huge life problems facing some of the 456 new contestants, this time around the show widens its scope by also exploring the lives of the people wearing the show’s now iconic faceless masks and pink jumpsuits and tasked with carrying out the killings. There’s also a did-not-see-that-coming twist featuring the show’s villain Hwang In-ho, aka The Front Man, which creates a giant wrinkle when the games eventually get under way.
Because the show’s central premise is so compelling and so brilliantly executed the show can’t help but pick up when it gets to the island and the games kick off. The competition remains as awfully thrilling, edge-of-your-seat intense and as bloody and gruesome as it was in season one. Of course, it doesn’t hold the same shock factor, but even in familiarity, the games are still a harrowing watch as the characters gamble with their lives.
Gi-hun’s reasons for returning to the competition boil down to vengeance. Using his wealth from surviving the last competition he hatches a foolproof plan with Jun-ho to shut down the games for good. This is thwarted at every step by the Front Man and his goons who are always one step ahead. The plan’s failure sees Gi-hun enter back into the deadly competition without his planned safety net.
After trying to force a mutiny he realises he must attempt to survive the odds a second time when his impassioned and dire warnings fail to convince the other contestants to put their lives above their greed.
With only a handful of episodes left from this point, things inevitably end just as they’re ramping up. Thankfully there won’t be another multi-year wait as the third season is scheduled to screen later this year.
Even after its three-year absence, Squid Game remains impactful and distressingly relevant. As the gap between rich and poor widens, costs spiral up and jobs disappear it feels like society is accelerating towards a reality where such a competition could exist.
Death as entertainment. But only for those who can afford not to enter.