Squid Game Season 2 Review: Netflix's Bloodthirsty Thriller Loses Some of Its Power

With its electrifying pace, brutal violence, and ominously relevant political themes, Squid Game is surely Netflix's edgiest hit. Three years on, expectations are high for the next chapter, presenting some very real challenges for writer/director Hwang Dong-hyuk.

Much of Season 1's appeal lay in its unpredictable storytelling, both in the way it unveiled the horrors of its candy-colored setting and in the sense that virtually any character could die. (And indeed, most of them did.) Since the new season involves protagonist Seong Gi-hun/456 (Lee Jung-jae) returning for another round of deadly games, we lose that element of surprise.

Sure, Squid Game 2 gives us a satisfying roster of new games and twists, populated by a fresh cast of well-conceived contenders. However, the format loses some of its impact as we explore similar conflicts motivated by greed, betrayal, and the perils of buying into a sunk cost fallacy. Fantastic though it was, Squid Game's self-contained first season didn't really need a sequel, so your enjoyment level may depend on whether you're a glass-half-full person ("Yay, more Squid Game!") or a cynic ("Netflix just wants to capitalize on a popular brand").

In the three years since he won the previous games, Seong Gi-hun has developed a sense of steely resolve, dedicating his considerable prize money to hunting down the games' shadowy organizers, led by the anonymous Front Man (Lee Byung-hun). So far, he hasn't had much luck. Nor has the young police officer Hwang Jun-ho (Wi Ha-joon), who managed to infiltrate the games as a guard last season but failed to bring back any plausible evidence of what he saw. A private island where super-rich guests watch impoverished volunteers slaughter each other for a cash prize? Come on. Rather than greenlighting an official investigation, his boss tells him to go to therapy.

You may already be wondering why the games' all-powerful overseers allow Seong Gi-hun and Hwang Jun-ho to live. If this organization can regularly kidnap and murder several hundred people without detection, why are they letting these wannabe saboteurs run free? Is it just a convenient plot hole to keep the show's heroes in play? Well, maybe. But there's also a darker subtext to their survival. You have to wonder if the villains are just toying with Seong Gi-hun, letting him rejoin the games because his presence adds a perverse new level of entertainment value. They don't perceive him as a real threat, and once he's inside, his prior experience can only carry him so far. (For Hunger Games fans, this transition between the first and second installments will feel very familiar.) 

7.6

Squid Game 2

at Netflix

Like

• Lee Jung-jae and Lee Byung-hun have excellent chemistry as the central hero and villain
• It's still one of the most gripping thrillers on TV
• The psychology behind the games is as clever and sadistic as ever

Dislike

• It rehashes a lot of familiar themes from Season 1
• The attempt at trans representation really isn't great
• The subplot for the young cop character Hwang Jun-ho just isn't very interesting

The dominant horror of Squid Game is the fact that most humans are horrendously bad at calculating odds. Preying on people who are drowning in debt, the games offer a slim chance to win a colossal prize. 456 contestants play six rounds of simple children's games, and the losers are put to death. After each round, the prize goes up as the number of survivors goes down, providing an extra incentive to keep playing. That's the most sadistic element of this whole scenario: the players can supposedly leave at any time. If a majority votes to stop, they can all go home and split the winnings. Yet many players remain determined to stay, failing to realistically judge their own chances of survival. Last time, Seong Gi-hun was the only one to make it out alive, and now he's too traumatized to enjoy his newfound wealth, describing it as blood money.

Squid Game's sociopolitical message is unsubtle but effective, hammering the point home by relating people's depressing motives for joining the games: gambling debts, crypto bankruptcies, failed businesses, and medical bills. Once again, some of these players are selfish assholes (for instance, Choi Seung-hyun/T.O.P. as a wildly obnoxious rapper named Thanos), but we understand that the true villains are the men behind the curtain.

Promoted from a tertiary role to a quietly menacing presence in the main plot, the Front Man gets a much bigger role this time around. Some of the season's best moments center on the chemistry between Lee Jung-jae and South Korean movie star Lee Byung-hun, giving a deceptively placid performance as the games' chief manipulator.

Seong Gi-hun's revolutionary mission kickstarts a different atmosphere among this group of players, but while the show maintains its gripping brand of psychological drama, it struggles to match the magic of Season 1.

Along with the problem of feeling like a partial retread, the balance of supporting characters isn't quite up to par. First off, this season is oddly reluctant to kill off major players — a key component of Squid Game's tension. Also, the ensemble is noticeably male-dominated in terms of screen time. We do meet several compelling female characters (e.g. a tough North Korean defector played by Park Gyu-young), but the most important storylines center on men, which feels notable in a show that tries to represent a broad cross-section of society.

Speaking of which, this season's most controversial figure has already made headlines: Player 120, a transgender woman played by a cis man (Park Sung-hoon). Park's casting invites criticism in itself, and while 120 is one of the most likeable contestants, her role falls foul of some awkward stereotypes. Her first big conversation scene focuses on bottom surgery, launching into a clunky "transgender acceptance 101" arc where other contestants learn to value her input instead of reacting with kneejerk distaste. For viewers who are used to seeing more nuanced portrayals of trans characters, this may be hard to stomach.  

If this sounds like a concerningly negative take on Squid Game 2, it's worth remembering that the first season established a very high standard. Producing an equally impactful sequel was always going to be tricky.

The good news for people in the "Yay, more Squid Game!" camp is that this season very clearly leads into a third chapter. The bad news is that these two new seasons are clearly two halves of a single narrative — a frustrating conclusion for some, but Season 3 presents an exciting opportunity to expand the Squid Game's world in new directions next year. We can only hope they can pull it off. 

Premieres: Thursday, Dec. 26 on Netflix
Who's in it: Lee Jung-jae, Lee Byung-hun, Lee Seo-hwa, Park Gyu-young, Choi Seung-hyun, Wi Ha-joon
Who's behind it: Hwang Dong-hyuk (writer/director)
For fans of: The Hunger Games, All of Us Are Dead, Battle Royale
How many episodes we watched: 7 of 7