Squid Game - A Review

"I am not a horse; I am a human."

Amidst the brutality and violence, Squid Game, at its core, is a social commentary on human beings' ethical and moral ambiguity. It makes us question our existence. Who are we? What values do we stand for during our lowest points? 

The theme of Squid Game is not new—we have seen such dystopian themes in films like The Hunger Games, Battle Royale, or 13 Tzameti. But the compelling, diverse, and relatable characters—and the tenderness of their bond—will make you root for them. 

A group of desperate individuals, in dire financial straits, are manipulated into participating in children's games with a cash prize of roughly $40M. But, they leave out one tiny detail—the games have deadly consequences. The commentary on the class divide and the perils of capitalism are apparent throughout the series. 

After the horrors of Red Light, Green Light, the participants unanimously quit. Not only they're compelled to return but are made to believe they did it voluntarily. 

During the course of the series, Seong Gi-hun, a gambling addict in serious debt, tries hard to be honest and self-righteous in a place of continuous moral decadence. 

Oh Il-nam, as Player 001, is delightful. During the initial few episodes, he was my favourite character, and I wished to have his zest for life despite suffering from a terminal ailment. 

Kang Sae-byeok is the most enigmatic character among the main characters. She begins to open up during the latter half of the season after she is paired with another girl with a tragic past, Ji-yeong, who helps her open up. 

Cho Sang-woo is a selfish person who will descend to any depth to survive and win the game. On the other hand, Abdul Ali is a kind-hearted, easily manipulated, but physically powerful immigrant. 

Episode 6, Gganbu, is one of the finest hours in the history of television. This episode wrecked me and moved me to tears. The set-up of Game 4 reminds Il-nam of his childhood home and is disinterested in playing the marble game, but Gi-hun eventually convinces him to play. With Il-nam on the verge of winning, Gi-hun takes advantage of the former's dementia to cheat, even though he feels guilty about it. The scene—where Il-nam reveals he was aware of Gi-hun's betrayal but allows him to win anyway—is absolutely gut-wrenching. 

Meanwhile, Ji-yeong and Sae-byeok discuss their lives before playing the marble game. After their poignant interaction, Ji-yeong loses the game on purpose and makes the ultimate sacrifice as she believes Sae-byeok deserves to live more than her. 

Ali, who unwittingly gets the upper hand in the game, is made to believe by Sang-woo that both can survive the game. He deceives Ali into giving up his marbles. Sadly, Ali's innocence eventually leads to his downfall. 

I loved the tug-of-war episode too, which had one of the best cliffhangers. Despite lacking physical strength, Gi-hun's team comes out on top—thanks to Il-nam's experience and Sang-woo's quick thinking. 

After the sixth episode, the quality of the series dipped a tad due to the introduction of VIPs. Acted horribly, the VIPs sounded like poorly dubbed American characters in old Chinese movies where the dialogues were written by someone with Chinese sensibilities. In this instance, the dialogues of the VIPs were written in English with Korean sensibilities. And, that's why they sounded more like caricatures instead of normal people. Also, the actors playing these characters were horrible, and that didn't help either. 

That twist, in the end, involving Il-nam was unexpected and it ruined that wonderful moment in Gganbu to a certain extent. Overall, I enjoyed the show. It was my first K-Drama, and I had a wonderful experience. 

My Rating: 9/10