‘Squid Game’ Season 2 Review: A Terrifying Critique of Modern Materialism

When the first season of “Squid Game” was released in 2021, it horrified and intrigued audiences with its visual gore and gruesome concept: Contestants participate in twisted children’s games where the victor receives a large cash prize and the penalty for losing is death. The show’s creative premise thrilled audiences around the world, becoming Netflix’s most watched non-English language show.

The long awaited second season — which debuted on Dec. 26, 2024 — is somehow even more terrifying than the first. Not because of the grisly elements of the disturbing childhood games — the audience is not shocked by violence the second time around — but because of the pointed commentary on the history of the games, elucidated by director Hwang Dong-hyuk in this season.

In the second season, Gi-Hun (Lee Jung-jae), the reluctant victor of the first games, is now armed with his several billion won in winnings, which he uses to assemble an army of impoverished Koreans to track down the recruiters of the game. When the director of the games — also known as the Front Man (Lee Byung-hun) — confronts Gi-Hun, he demands to be placed back into the competition. As he re-joins, Gi-Hun makes it his mission to save as many lives as possible by warning the other players of the game’s dangers.

Now, a grave question is posed both to the game’s participants and the audience themselves: If the participants know the extent of the games’ barbarity — including that others will die for them to stay alive — will they willingly continue?

Gi-Hun enters these games more weary than he did the first ones: He appears battle-hardened in his new player identification photo. Despite his appearance, Gi-Hun is fervently optimistic that he can save the lives of his fellow players by warning them of the consequences.

In the first competition — Red Light Green Light— Gi-Hun manages to save some contestants, although many remain suspicious of his intentions. Episode 3 largely repurposes the framework of the Season 1’s first episode, but this can be forgiven because the repetition is significant — it implies that Gi-Hun’s efforts to warn the contestants of the dangers are doing little to avert the same outcome.

After the first bloodbath, players have the opportunity to vote on whether to end the games or continue them. Gi-Hun’s belief in his fellow players’ good nature leads him to naively think that the players — now aware of the true stakes — will naturally choose to end the game.

However, Hwang lays out a far more sinister reality. After the players witness the consequences that they were warned of, they continue to vote against saving themselves and ending the games. In a brilliant and dramatic performance, the Front Man— now disguised as a player — forcefully argues alongside Gi-Hun to end the games.

This tragic commentary on human morality was masterfully set up from the very beginning of the series. Hwang shows in a scene how recruiters approach financially desperate people. As the recruiter offers them a choice of either a lottery ticket or a loaf of bread, every person chooses the lottery ticket — betting on potential riches rather than claiming something more meager, but tangible. This scene foreshadows the choice that players go on to make in the game, albeit with much higher stakes. Instead of bread, the tangible option is the few million won the players would each receive if they voted to end the game early. While this is helpful, it is, in some cases, not enough to pay off many of the players’ full debts. The lottery ticket, on the other hand, promises riches great enough to pay everything off. The message here is clear: If one is not financially secure, what’s the point of living?

In the first season, players were completely oblivious to the true consequences of the game, and one could chalk up their desire to participate as pure human optimism. But in the second season of “Squid Game,” a much more sobering commentary on human nature emerges.

The terrific cast of “Squid Game” and the show’s powerful premise make it an extremely entertaining watch with eternal relevance. Explaining the societal context and norms that support the game, the second season of “Squid Game” is a searing and vicious critique of the little value people place on human life in an increasingly materialistic world. That critique is more terrifying than the games themselves.

—Staff Writer Alexandra M. Kluzak can be reached at alexandra.kluzak@thecrimson.com.