'Squid Game: A Review' by Alexander Hawkins
It has been almost two months since Squid Game premiered on Netflix. Although this is not the first international series to attract ‘phenomenon’ level attention for the streaming giant (Lupin, Kingdom, and The 3% etc), the sheer level of online chatter alludes to a popularity for the show on the same level as Stranger Things or Bridgerton. This international response is a testament to the writer/director Hwang Dong-hyuk’s craft and patience in the making of this project. Although Squid Game feels much like a contemporary piece, depicting much of the economic, emotional, and physical hardship of the last decade, it was actually written back in 2008, long before these problems began to besiege our society.
Squid Game follows Seong Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae) a gambling addict who is offered a chance at competing in a Squid Game, a game of six rounds each based on a different children’s game. The brutality of this game is thrown at viewers from the get-go when a simple game of Red Light, Green Light (Statues to those who grew up in the UK) turns bloody and the crux of the Squid Game is revealed: success means you move to the next round; failure means only one thing—death.
The first two episodes largely follow the main character Gi-Hun (Lee Jung-jae), as well as his childhood friend Cho Sang-woo (Park Hae-soo) and North Korean defector Kang Sae-byeok (Jung Ho-yeon) as we explore their reasons for partaking in a game of deadly stakes. By giving the players a chance to leave the game after the first game, and them returning of their own free will (because they need the money) we’re forced to the assumption that the tiniest odds of winning the Squid Game might be better than having no odds at all in modern society. While the pacing of the first two episodes is a bit stop and start, the series settles in to a fast-paced thriller, as we see the contestants being drastically whittled down from 456, episode by episode.
Beyond the three main characters, this show manages to represent a contemporary cross-section of Korean culture. From an elderly dementia patient, Oh Il-nam (O Yeong-su) to a menacing gangster (Heo Sung-tae) and immigrant worker Ali (Anupam Tripathi), Squid Game gives us a plethora of core players each with their own intriguing and relatable motivations. These players each live up to a broad character-type: Gi-Hun is the rascal, Sang-woo the overachiever, and Deok-su is the bully, and although the actors are limited by these character types, it still feels as if the actors have room to find enough individuality on screen, with the final competition neatly underscoring the horrific nature of the whole game.
We get to see the eerie behind the scenes of the Squid Game through Hwang Jun-ho (Wi Ha-joon) a cop who impersonated a guard while searching for his missing brother, someone he believes went missing during a previous years game. Although at times this plot line feels strenuous, it is suspenseful in its own ways, giving Dong-hyuk’s world more depth.
Where Squid Game does not say much about poverty, cruelty, and privilege that has not been said before, its dynamic storytelling, powerful dialogue, and robust characters manages to create one of the most exhilarating shows of 2021, which will hopefully lead to a rise of popularity in Asian TV and film.