Korean thriller ‘Squid Game’: A stark reflection of our times
Would you sacrifice yourself for a stranger’s newborn or win 54.6 billion won (approximately P1.9 billion)?
In December 2024, I chose not to watch the second season of Netflix’s blockbuster series “Squid Game” when it was released because of the discomfort of being on a cliffhanger, just like in Season 1. However, when Season 3 was released on June 27, 2025, I watched all 13 episodes of the last two seasons in a hurry.
Season 2 follows the protagonist Seong Gi-hun, the Season 1 winner, as he returns to the enigmatic island three years later to finally end the games, punish the Front Man, and go against those who fund the whole fiasco, dubbed the VIPs. The mercenaries that Gi-hun hired encountered the Recruiter after searching for a long time. The Recruiter eventually died after losing to Gi-hun in a game of Russian roulette.
Later, in an epic miscalculation of the Front Man’s bravado and tactics, Gi-hun woke up again in the same venue he had stayed in three years ago.
Gi-hun mightily attempts to save as many players as he can. He provided tips and tricks during the first game, called red light, green light. After the first game, the players were given a chance to continue or abandon the game altogether via a democratic process of voting, where the majority wins.
New games were introduced. A lot of the players were killed. Season 2 ends with Gi-hun’s best friend, Jung Bae, murdered by the Front Man, who pretended to be one of the players after a failed rebellion.
Season 3’s premiere episode shows Gi-hun in deep despair and anguish. The hide and seek jump rope was introduced, where a significant number of players died, including Jun-he (Player 222), who sacrificed herself for her baby.
The night before the sky squid game (final game) started, the Front Man asked to meet with Gi-hun. The Front Man removed his black mask and revealed his true identity. During the discussion, the Front Man gave Gi-hun the option to kill his fellow players with the knife he had been given. Gi-hun decided not to kill his fellowmen at their most vulnerable state, something the Front Man—also a former winner—failed to do.
In a stunning twist, after a series of prolific brawls, strategic maneuverings, and mind games, Jun-hee’s baby (also designated as Player 222) becomes the winner after Gi-Hun decides to sacrifice himself to protect the infant and ensure her survival.
“Squid Game” is a phenomenon because of its courageous attempt for humanity to reflect on its current state of decay, fueled by greed and love for money. Its themes and subjects meticulously transcend cultures, oceans, and territories and ask us to embrace the universal code of fighting for truth, justice, and love. Its strength stems from the novelty of using easy-to-understand and relatable children’s games with the players’ lives on the line.
An almost masterpiece if not for the cringey acting and delivery of lines of the VIPs, the obvious stretching of some episodes marked by aimless subplots, and the senseless, unsophisticated revolt spearheaded by the protagonist, the “Squid Game” bravely tackled some of the pressing issues and questions of our time about transgenders, abortion, illegal drug use, depression, addiction, inequality, and suicide.
In the Philippine context, the show reminds us of the proliferation of gambling and its gruesome impacts. The recent development in the case of the 34 missing sabungeros, who were allegedly dumped in Taal Lake in Batangas, should serve as a warning for all of us. That while “Squid Game” is fictional, the deeply rooted wishes by the players in the game are not: top-notch health services, high-quality education, continuous support for the youth programs, and strong job opportunities.
And yes, an infant or a human being is more valuable than 54.6 billion won or any amount of money. Seung Gi-hun knew that—so should we.
Benre J. Zenarosa,
zenarosabenre@gmail.com
