Letter #117: Pyramid Game

Good morning, Erin.

I have a hilarious story to share with you about something that happened involving me that…okay, probably isn’t going to seem all that funny to you without, like, a huge amount of context, now that I think about it, but it tangentially has to do with Kiss of Life and YouTube and involves pair of tiny denim shorts, and I promise it’s hilarious if you know the context, so, um, just assume I’ve told you the story and its context and that you’ve found it hilarious. 

…which, realistically, is probably how you wish all my preamble stories would go, isn’t it. Hmm.

I’m kidding—I know they’re your favorite part! 

But, even so, I want to jump as quickly as possible into talking about Pyramid Game—and I really, really hope you were able to watch it, Erin, because it is AWESOME. I’m not planning to spoil anything, but…golly, I’d like to. This one’s a keeper.

1. No, seriously—it’s terrific. Which, I mean, I’m as surprised as you are. I went into it expecting little, more curious about Seul-ki from Single’s Inferno 2 suddenly being an actress than whatever farcically dystopic premise about bullying this show pitched. But it didn’t take long for me to be completely hooked in, with both the writing and directing (especially the excellently crafted first episode) being leagues above what the synopsis would imply. The characters are distinct and engaging, the world of the show is believable (even in its ridiculous elements), and the tension is constant, with every action ratcheting—on either side of the conflict—resulting in a consequence that just further ratchets things up. This was another one of those shows I burned through as quickly as I could because I didn’t want to put it down. And it’s a big ol’ recommend from me. 

2. Oh, and in case this wasn’t clear: this is much, much better than both The 8 Show and Hierarchy.

3. Let’s get right into everyone I know:

• the rival fencing girl from Twenty-Five, Twenty-One as Soo-ji, our protagonist

• Seul-ki from Single’s Inferno 2 as Do-ah, the class rep

• the stressed out cutie from Crash Course in Romance as Ye-rim, the class idol

• the daughter’s jovial best friend from Crash Course in Romance as Ja-eun, the class reject

• the tertiary girl who dies near the end of Sweet Home as the…I guess, outcast girl in class

• the bullied girl who kills the long-haired bully from The Glory as the literature teacher

• the shady book reviewer from It’s Okay to Not be Okay as Do-ah’s father

• one of the three-girl friend group girls from A Good Day to be a Dog as the artistic girl in class

3A. In a funny turn, we not only get a Crash Course in Romance mini-reunion with Ye-rim and Ja-eun in this show, but the eventual boyfriend character in Crash Course in Romance was the male lead in Hierarchy, the second of the classism (or whatever) trilogy we’re doing. Which is…I mean, it’s sort of a thematic mini-reunion, right? That’s probably a thing. (Plus, I think that dude and the girl playing Ja-eun are dating in real life, so…there’s that, too.) 

3B. The girl I thought was a total cutie in Crash Course is still an absolute cutie in Pyramid Game—and, yes, I recognized her immediately, just from a quick wide-shot of the classroom. 

3C. So, how was Seul-ki, you ask? She was…actually, pretty good. I wouldn’t call her performance noteworthy, aside from the fact that she was unexpectedly able to act. Admittedly, she doesn’t have to do too terribly much, acting-wise, since she’s playing a fairly stoic, cerebral character, but…as much as she’s no So-e, she did well enough that I’m definitely interested in seeing what she does next. 

3D. Oh, also: she’s kind of unrecognizable in this. They do everything they can to un-pretty her as much as possible (minimal makeup, slightly too-short hair, unremarkable glasses), but she also—and this threw me for a loop—sounded different, her voice so much lower than I remember it from Single’s Inferno 2. 

3E. And did you know Jin-young is also apparently doing some acting, now? Man, we are edging that much closer to some goofy romcom casting director doing for these two what the K-date gods would not. We live in such interesting times. 

3F. And speaking of un-prettying the actresses: the girl playing Ja-eun got the works. They cut her hair so that it hid any peripheral expressiveness on her face, forcing the focus onto her sharpest features in the least flattering way possible. Add to that how the character is typically moping and never smiles (removing the charm we got so frequently from her in Crash Course), and she too seemed like a totally different person.

3G. Similar kudos to Soo-ji’s bangs for their ability to make Bona’s features harsher and to Ye-rim’s makeup for taking Kang Na-eon’s cuteness to 110%.

3H. …which is not to belabor the point about appearances, of course. I just thought it was worth mentioning how good a job everyone does at giving the characters a look that really feeds into who they are, regardless of the actresses playing them.

4. Right off the bat, the show does a really clever job establishing Soo-ji’s baseline personality—at the exact same time that it shows you that she’s wandered into a thoroughly unusual situation. Not only did I like her immediately, but I found the world of the show even more unsettling than she did. Just a very, very good job all around. 

5. In a “battle of wits” story, you need to be able to keep the tensions high by having the upper hand repeatedly shift from one side to the other—moves, countermoves, victories that suddenly turn into even worse defeats. Pyramid Game nails this. 

6. And if you’re any kind of K-drama worth watching, you have a Subway sponsorship, right? Well, GUESS WHO HAS A SUBWAY SPONSORSHIP!

7. None of the actresses is bad—but I wouldn’t say any of them is particularly good. They’re all perfectly satisfactory (to varying degrees). I have no complaints. Which isn’t high praise, sure, but I think it’s noteworthy that there weren’t any acting misfires—particularly since none of the cast was a known powerhouse or anything. 

7A. That said, I do have one very specific bit of praise for the ultimate villain of the piece: I don’t think she was a particularly good actress—but she gave a particularly good performance. Her character turned out to be a total sociopath, and I genuinely believed she didn’t have a soul. It was great. (And a great counterpoint to The 8 Show’s Eighth Floor, the cartoonish psychopath.Since we’re ostensibly grouping these shows as some kind of theme.)

7B. And, for a little bit, we get a flashback to what she was like as a very small child…and that little girl actress was terrifying. Just pure, bubbling hatred. 

7C. Speaking of the ultimate villain: the show wants to hide her identity for a little while, but it also wants to hint at who she could be…but also deliberately misdirects you. World’s greatest detective though I am, I was absolutely fooled by their excellent misdirection—but, world’s greatest detective that I am, I was not fooled into the misdirection. That is, the show didn’t think I would be keyed in enough to a certain minor detail that immediately made me aware their misdirection was misdirection.) They clearly didn’t anticipate my attentiveness to cute K-drama girls!) Though, again, I had no idea who I was being misdirected away from, so…yeah, good job. 

7D. It’s less of a good job that Soo-ji, in her very logical approach to figuring out who the villain is, ignores the most glaring piece of evidence she has about who to suspect because the plot wants to keep her identity hidden from the audience. (In essence, she deduces that the villain must be a girl who, let’s say, is given extra dessert from the lunch lady, and so she concentrates on the couple of girls who are always given two brownies…but doesn’t immediately see any reason to suspect the girl she sees getting four brownies. Because that would ruin the surprise.)

8. Oh, I forgot to mention that I also recognized some locations:

• Ja-eun's home is the same rundown location at the top of a million stairs where IU’s character in My Mister lived. 

• The dude who works at the convenience store’s college is the campus used for Episode 7 of Apartment 404.

• I’m pretty sure the scuba diving pool in Episode 7 is where they filmed part of the Haru/Dan-oh “reunion episode” of Busted. 

9. Jae-hyung is ridiculous, and I quite like her. 

10. Speaking of: one of the show's missteps—and, yes, there are a handful of missteps—is that it picks the absolute weirdest moments to introduce levity. And about the weirdest things. Like, it sometimes plays what should be incredibly serious moments as fairly standard comedy beats. (For example, at one point, a girl starts to cry, and it’s played for laughs—when, in context, crying is the most  appropriate response to the awfulness she’s experiencing.) Very strange.

11. I noticed Bona was using her real name in the credits. Like IU used to.

12. There are two character revelations that the show makes mega-obvious as we lead up to them—but, in fairness to the show, it only does this after a handful of episodes of hinting at them quite subtly. 

13. My girl Ye-rim is wearing the same style of sneakers as I am! (Coincidence? Or…destiny???)

14. Daryl, circa Episode 5: “Well, clearly [REDACTED] (and probably [REDACTED]) will wind up being the lynchpin to unraveling the villain’s machinations. Can’t wait for that turn!”

15. Daryl, circa Episode 10: “Oh, gosh. Okay, I…did not see that coming. Wow.”

16. Soo-ji referred to Twitter as X, and it made me laugh.

17. For all its sharp storytelling, Pyramid Game still stumbles with some narrative contrivances that seem more “anime logic” than believable. It’s a little frustrating, especially when you get to the third or fourth instance of characters doing things because it helps with the drama/plot progression rather than because it’s how a particular circumstance would normally play out or character would act. But I don’t think the for-plot-only moments much damage the overall success of the show. I just wish they’d made some obvious tweaks to a couple of them. 

18. There’s a well-shot gym class sequence that really pulls you into the chaos of the moment, the suffocating danger of it. It’s a little bit much, in some ways, but it feels really good. 

19. There’s a similarly shot outdoor competition that doesn’t have the same kind of chaos element to it, so it feels like a stylistic clash between the reality of the activity and the portrayal of it. 

20. The ending isn’t quite what I would have expected, equal parts brilliant and confounding. But I’m pretty sure I liked it a lot. (If “liked” is the right word for it.)

And with that dubious praise—this letter draws to a close.

Boy, did I have a good time with this show. Like, surprisingly good. And I hope it got a lot of attention when it came out. Because this definitely deserves it. I’d say it’s probably one of the top five shows I’ve watched in the last year. Or…wait, I’ve seen a few really great shows in the last year: The Matchmakers, Behind Your Touch, See You in My 19th Life, Branding in Seongsu, Backstreet Rookie—actually, y’know what? Backstreet Rookie didn’t come out in the last year, so we’ll say it doesn’t count (even though I definitely saw it in the last year, and it’s definitely one of the best shows I’ve seen), which means I can say that Pyramid Game is absolutely one of the top five shows I’ve watched in the last year.

…actually, wait, Frankly Speaking had that whole dating show arc whic—no, never mind, forget it, point is: it was good; you should see it; I bet you’d like it.

I mean…I think you’d like it. And we know how good a judge I am. 

…

(Shh.)

Anyway. The year is just speeding by, isn’t it? I can hardly believe it’s practically August. Which means it’s practically Christmas. Which means it’s basically 2025. 

Hope you’re having the best day, today. Or, barring that, a pretty okay late afternoon. 

More soon. 

—Daryl