Letter #146: Squid Game 2
Good morning, Erin.
I’m sure you’ll recall from my Connection letter that my little sister will sometimes give me a murder-mystery-in-a-box for Christmas, and this year was no exception. So, like a good brother with a week off, I decided to tackle one of them—from three years ago that I never got around to.
Naturally, being the world’s greatest detective, I identified the murderer right away…but, because of how the game is structured, I couldn’t technically solve the case until I’d done the legwork to unravel all the riddles and puzzles and hidden codes that provided me all the context I’d need to logically deduce who it was. Which took about 10 hours to complete.
Which sounds like a lot, I realize—because it absolutely is a lot. But, in my defense, there was A LOT of reading to do, and I’m a very, very slow reader. And I’d accidentally worked at resolving a couple of the big puzzles (and, separately, deducing some of the big character reveals) too early, which I didn’t realize for a very, very long time. That is, I was supposed to solve Puzzle A to unlock Puzzle B and Puzzle C, but Puzzles B and C made so much more sense to me that I steadily worked my way through those under the assumption that B and C were supposed to help me unlock A. So, at a certain point, I got stuck—because B and C in no way would help me with A, because B and C presupposed the resolution of A. Which was…I wouldn’t say frustrated, but I was kind of confused. Poured over a lot of notes, tried to decipher a lot of encoded messages that, um, weren’t actually there—all so that I could get the game to progress to the point where it would allow me to submit my solution to the murder. Which, again, I’d figured out pretty early in the process.
Alas, the burden of genius.
However, I don’t think you needed to be the world’s greatest detective to figure out that, at only seven episodes—and with a supposed third season on the way in 2025—Squid Game 2 was going to be less of a second season than it was the first half of a second season.
Of course, given some of the responses I’ve seen about where the show stops, I might be the only one who thinks that.
But since when has everyone else’s response mattered? You’re here for my response!
Spoilers ahead. (Because…c’mon, we need to, yeah?)
1. So, what did I think? I thought it was really good! And not just in terms of being a totally needless sequel—I thought it was good all on its own. So, if for some reason you haven’t watched it yet…do that. It’s absolutely a good time.
2. What it’s not, though, is Season 1. Well, it’s frequently just as contrived or “shh—don’t think about it” as Season 1, but it isn’t the same kind of show as we got the first time around, which I imagine is where some of the negative reactions have come from (whether anyone realizes it or not). Season 2 is absolutely NOT as character-driven, and, as such, the imminent peril of many (most? nearly all?) of the characters becomes far less of a concern for the audience. Instead, we’re pretty…I want to say “plot-focused,” but it isn’t exactly plot we’re focused on, so…let’s go with more action-focused—focused on characters doing things rather than living through things like the first season was. I thought this worked just fine, but I’d also make the argument that it worked as its own thing; so, I can understand people being disappointed by the difference.
3. …which is not to say there isn’t any character-focused story. Almost none of it is driven by our protagonists, though, which is another change. I mean, as much as Gi-hun’s whole persona is fueled by a desperation to take down the whole nihilistic apparatus, he’s kind of removed from his previous character role once he’s back in the game, becoming much more plot-controlled than he is an emotional element of the narrative. In his stead, this time around, we get two characters who are a part of the apparatus Gi-hun hopes to destroy: the Front Man and No-eul (Soldier 011). That is, while Gi-hun and the other players confront the practical aspects of participating in the games, the Front man confronts the moral/philosophical aspect of the games, and No-eul confronts the emotional toll that leads people to participate in the games (on either side of the decision).
3A. They also happen to be the two best twists in the whole season—especially No-eul turning out to be recruited as a soldier and not a player. (I literally started applauding when I saw that was what they’d done. Brilliant move.)
3B. Now, whether this shift for Gi-hun is a good writing choice…
Hmm.
4. Oh, f***—the stupid cop from S1 has a storyline. Ha! I forgot that. Which I guess is good, in a way, because he must not have been as much of a downside as he had been before. I mean, don’t get me wrong: his story is still boring and stupid, and I didn’t want to spend time with him or his stupid and boring story. But, if we’re going to distract from the main story for the sake…whatever narrative purpose he’s supposedly serving…I’d rather the little bursts of S2. Plus, he has an amusing sidekick, this time. Which I liked. And thought was stupid.
5. But, yes, the characters aren’t really driving the story, this time around—and, frankly, they aren’t as good. I think they’re all likeable, just less deep than the group we got in S1. Which means we don’t care about them as much, even if we do care about them (helped in part by more of them being played by recognizable actors), which means them being in peril doesn’t carry the same weight to it. Which is a negative. But, again, I like them all, which means I’m rooting for them all, so that’s definitely a positive.
5A. Okay, I say I like them all, but that’s not really true. Thanos couldn’t die fast enough, frankly, and it irks me to no end that Young-hee’s (that is, the pregnant girl’s) idiot ex-boyfriend seems to be sticking around. But, them aside, most of the other new characters are likeable mostly for not being un-likeable. I think they all serve their purposes well enough, which works enough for me, given the more plot-centric focus of the second season. But it’s definitely a step backwards from the previous season—though, again, I think the season as its own thing doesn’t need them to be as deep as in S1.
5B. Similarly, a lot of the new cast falls into the same patterns of the first season’s: Gi-hun’s friend he hasn’t spoken to in a long time; the guy in charge of the game secretly posing as a player; a North Korean defector who wants to smuggle out her family; a wide-eyed innocent; a thuggish bully; a middle-aged woman who everyone disregards at their own peril. It’s a little bit of a negative, for sure—but I like the twists the writer uses to “remix” his old work: Gi-hun’s friend is clearly less integral than Sang-woo was in S1 (and, as such, is less protected by plot armor); the Front Man’s participation isn’t hidden from the audience, so we get to ride along with his machinations and choices; the North Korean defector is convinced she can’t get her family back and joins the games as a soldier; the wide-eyed innocent is cowardly rather than pure-hearted; the thuggish bully is a dumbass with very little pull (and, in fact, it is his lackey who is the real threat); and the disregarded middle-aged woman has found a way to not just survive but become a shot-caller in her own right. They’re all fun, but they’re less original than they could have been. So, again, a win and a loss, but which I thought worked just fine.
6. Relatedly: I’m going to need an explanation for why the Shaman isn’t already a bigger character. She’s got so much potential! Again, the last we see of her, she’s got followers who are totally under her sway. That’s f***ing genius. And I wish it had happened sooner. (Though, in fairness, I think it’s a victim of the pacing: we don’t get to the game until the third episode, meaning she’s on the brink of being the main player-antagonist at what would have been Episode 4 of the original season’s pace, which is right about where that story beat should be.)
7. One of the things that worried me about the runup to this second season was that a whole bunch of recognizable, popular actors were being cast, presumably because the Squid Game was so massively popular that either the actors wanted a piece of the action or the producers wanted to generate even more buzz about the show. The concern was that this would be another layer of manufactured creation rather than the purer process of making the first (untested) season, another indication that Squid Game 2 would be built on shallow branding rather than on a sturdy foundational concept. (Plus, already liking the actors felt a bit like a cheat, since the “nobodies” in the first season had to win me over all on their own.)
7A. BUT…regardless of whether this turned out to be a good thing or a bad thing, it meant I was sure to know a whole bunch of the new faces—and know them I did!
Ju-ri from It’s Okay to Not be Okay as No-eul
Main Cop from When the Camellia Blooms as #388 (the young (presumably fake) marine)
the dopey magistrate from Kingdom as the loan shark’s right-hand lackey
Gangster Guy from Sweet Home as #246 (the father of the girl with leukemia)
the color blind bully from The Glory as #120 (the transgender player)
the main guy’s mom from Frankly Speaking as #149 (the old woman with her dumbass son)
the Columbo-esque junior profiler from Doubt as #124 (Thanos’s lackey)
So-hee from Next Sohee as #95 (the girl closest to #120)
the main guy from Summer Strike as #333 (the pregnant girl’s ex-boyfriend, the crypto YouTuber)
the gangster surrogate father from My Name as…uh, the Front Man’s stand-in? lieutenant?
Young Stewardess Bully from The Glory as #196 (the hot girl from red light/green light)
7B. So, No-eul and #246 were both in Sweet Home, so mini-reunion there. #246 and #388 were both in A Year-End Medley, so mini-reunion there. And #120 and #196 were both in The Glory, so mini-reunion there. It’s a hat-trick of mini-reunions!
7C. You know I love Song Ji-woo (Young Stewardess Bully), so I was very excited to see that she’d been cast in Squid Game 2—but I was also pretty darn sure that she was only “famous” enough to be around as cannon fodder of one kind or another. And, sure enough, she was the first one to die. Which sucks, of course, because I’d have loved to see her get a little more time on such a prominent stage, but also…it was a pretty memorable death, all things being equal. And, as I later learned, her death is in the trailer for the series as well! Woo-hoo! Exposure for my girl! Plus, her dying so quickly means I didn’t have to sit through hours of that dip**** Thanos hitting on her. (Also, fun fact: her character’s name is Kang Mi-na. Y’know, like my mega-crush Miss Intern from Hotel Del Luna? I had to rewind it twice to make sure I wasn’t imagining that. I mean…she’s clearly in this show just for me. And I appreciate it.)
7D. …she’s really good, by the way. I don’t know that anyone’s going to suddenly wonder who she is based on her performance, but as someone already familiar with her, I think it was maybe the most natural performance I’ve seen her give.
7E. I didn’t confirm it, but I’m pretty sure the club Gi-hun goes to in the hopes of meeting the Front Man is the same one used in Doona!—or, at the very least, it has the same sign on display inside the club: Noise Basement. Which is still a great name.
8. When it comes to the new games, I quite liked the carousel game. It was tense and exciting and turned out to be a great way to bring our disparate protagonist groups together organically. (Fortunately, they just so happened to be standing right next to each other for every round. What luck!)
9. The five-event game where they were tied to each other? Not so much. From the music choice to the attitudes of the players throughout the game, the whole thing is…weird. Goofy, actually, like it’s been designed more for lols than to elicit the fear that our characters are in danger. There isn’t some secret method for them to figure out or some major obstacle to overcome, just the need to execute each of the mini-games…none of which is especially difficult, even having been strapped to four other people. And, for the most part, the players don’t seem to think their lives are at risk—even when they are actively fretting about ticking closer and closer to death. (Compare it to the cookie-cutting game in Season 1, for something ostensibly simple but still breath-catchingly intense. Or the desperation and quick-thinking of the players in the carousel game in Season 2.) Just felt strange.
10. Speaking of the games…why has Gi-hun not already gone around looking at the walls to see if they have diagrams of all the games, like it did last time? Did…like, did he not see them in Season 1? Was that just there for the audience? C’mon, dude—you gonna use your knowledge to sway people to your side, or are you only interested in doing that kind of thing when it’s convenient to plot progression?
11. And speaking of Gi-hun and his prior experience: “We all voted to stay because having Gi-hun here is like having a cheat code! He knows how to get through all the games! Because…they can’t possibly have changed any of the games, right?” Yeesh. This group asks a whole lotta questions, but they’re conveniently stupid, on the whole.
12. To wit: the questions the players ask in rapid succession at the start of the competition, just after they all wake up, are pretty obviously pulled from common online discussions of the first season. Which is either kinda funny or a bit twee.
13. I’m not super-keen on the new system of mandatory voting after every game. It doesn’t really make sense, apart from perhaps the Front Man wanting to use it as a way of breaking Gi-hun’s will or something. Plus, we all know the vote is always going to keep the games going, so there’s not really any tension to the scenes, making them—at best—overlong.
13A. Worse, though, is that the division between Xs and Os never really affects things. Predominantly, friends stay friends, often with a quick handwave admission that they understand why their buddies suddenly decided that it was okay to risk their friends’ lives on the slight chance they won’t all get murdered in the next round of insanity. I mean, yes, we get the big fight at the end of the season, but almost literally no conflict comes of this divide prior to that point.
14. I did not love that we started with a TWO YEAR TIME JUMP. I understood the decision, but I didn’t love it. And I don’t think we needed it. (As in, if we were going to jump ahead two years…why not start at that point?)
15. I don’t think any of the eventual protagonist deaths were a surprise.
16. …neither was the boat captain (in the police storyline) being an agent of the Squid Game. I mean, come on.
17. I really like that Gi-hun’s holed up in an “abandoned” love motel—particularly that it’s the Pink Motel. Very cheeky, show. (Because of the Squid Game guard uniforms being pink. Not for, um, other reasons you might find a love hotel being named “Pink” cheeky.)
18. And I loooooove that the loan shark and his goons are actually helping Gi-hun track down Mr. Goblin. Like, specifically that they’re sincerely doing what he’s paying them to do, rather than saying that they are and just taking the crazy man’s money. There isn’t even a hint that they’d ever not follow through on what they’re being paid to do. And I found that quite amusing. They’re thugs, but they’re honest thugs.
19. Park Gyu-young is really, really good as No-eul. I love her in everything, of course, but this is probably the first time I’ve seen her so thoroughly become someone else. I mean, sure, she still looks like herself (though less dolled-up, of course), but she sure as heck doesn’t sound like herself.
20. I was also fond of the performance by #124 (Thanos’s lackey). He was always a bit of a jerk and freely a bully, when it suited him, but he ends up being pretty darn sneaky-villainous. And I felt he gave a grounded, low-key performance. So, I'm glad he’s still around. And I hope he gets more to do.
21. I don’t know that I buy Mr. Goblin following through on his game of Russian Roulette with Gi-hun. Like, he seems pretty happy to do what he does. A proper psychopath just reveling in his ability to be psychopathic. Gi-hun prods him by calling him a dog for his uber-wealthy masters, but…why would that make him be okay with pulling the trigger? Is it more to do with his commitment to the “fairness” doctrine of the games? Is he trying to prove a point to Gi-hun about the games? I dunno. Just seems real lucky that he, y’know, blew his brains out instead of turning the gun on Gi-hun. Or maybe it’s just me.
22. Similarly, I don’t know that I buy the Front Man keeping Gi-hun alive at the end of Episode 7. I mean, I get the idea that he wants to watch him brought down low enough that he’ll submit to “the Matrix” (that is, the apparatus behind the games), but…seems kinda dangerous to keep him alive, no?
23. Speaking of: the “coup” attempt in Episode 7 feels very much like the show’s written itself into a corner. I’m just not sure how you just move on from that.
23A. And, yeah, hiding ain’t gonna help you, #120. You think they don’t know you were part of that strike team? And, like, you’re pretty easy to spot. Just sayin’.
24. That said…boy, Gi-hun’s buddy sure looked like he knew what he was doing with that submachine gun. He even had his army crawl down. I’m just saying—dude didn’t look “Hollywood” in that sequence at all. I don’t know what his time in the military was like or how long he stayed in, but that training clearly stuck. Or, well, to my amateur eyes, at least, he seemed to be the only one who looked completely sure of himself and comfortable with everything he was doing.
25. Speaking of the strike team assault mission: I don’t think I’m the only one who is certain that, when #246 was shot, he was shot by No-eul and that she’s going to use the organ harvesting ring as a way to smuggle him to safety. I mean, the only two plot beats we really have about her are…well, him (or his daughter, more specifically) and her interference with the organ harvesting ring.
26. …not that the organ harvesting ring still being a thing isn’t a little sus on its own. I mean, I can totally come up with reasons why it’s still around (though perhaps under new management…or a more cautious old management), but I think another line or two about it would have made it feel a little less like a particularly strange callback.
27. On the other hand, the Hyundai logos once again being prominently displayed on all the cars was a welcome holdover from Season 1. Obviously.
27A. Still no Subway sponsorship, though. Which is probably the one thing that really held the season back, if ya think about it.
28. I know I said I was iffy on Mr. Goblin following through on Russian Roulette, but I am absolutely gobsmacked that, for background music, he would choose the Sarah Brightman/Andrea Bocelli duet version of “Time to Say Goodbye” when he could pick the Andrea Bocelli-only version. How is this even a choice, my dude?
29. I thought it was hilarious that an integral part of Gi-hun’s plan when meeting the Front Man is that the car he is placed in be tailed by the mercenaries he hired to attack the game…since one of the most glaring issues of the first season was the Squid Game van drivers being somehow incapable of noticing the cop was tailing them…for miles…down an abandoned highway…with his headlights on. So, it was then doubly hilarious when the Front Man’s crew was so hyper-aware they were being tailed that they’d managed to pre-rig the mercenaries’ vans to explode.
30. Relatedly: it did not escape me that Gi-hun starts the season by cutting out the tracking device implanted behind his ear…only to later have his plan to overthrow the game hinge on a tracking device implanted in his tooth. (The former having been put there by the Squid Game people, and the latter having been removed by the Squid Game people.)
30A. I am, however, unsure if the show is aware of this irony.
31. Oh…looking over my notes, seems I forgot how much the characters spoke almost exclusively in exposition for the first couple of episodes. Yeah, that wasn’t great.
32. I don’t think it occurred to me to wonder about this in the first season, but this time around I did question whether or not Mr. Goblin slapped the women he recruited when he challenged them to the tile-flipping game (like he did with the men). And, thanks to that lovely video montage at the start of the games in Episode 3, we got our answer: absolutely yes. (Which makes me wonder how he managed to get away with smacking women in public, but…hey, he never got interrupted by cops for smacking men in public, so maybe he’s just lucky. I mean, obviously not in Russian Roulette, but…)
33. Now, part of the reason I wondered about whether or not the women got slapped was when No-eul gets roused from sleeping in her van to be recruited. Obviously, the show wants us to think she’s being recruited as a player and, because we know that Mr. Goblin is dead before we get introduced to her storyline, perhaps we are meant to assume that his recruitment method is no longer being used in the aftermath of his, um, sudden death. But I immediately wondered if her much more direct recruitment was a result of her being a woman and the (presumed) added issues with slapping a woman in public or if it was just a matter of not having time for the whole song and dance with the game drawing near.
33A. That said, I immediately thought something was up when we saw No-eul call the number on the back of the card—because the number started with 001 instead of 456 like the other card we saw in the previous episode. I didn’t think she was going to become a soldier, but I definitely recognized that the card number was different and, as such, probably meant…something.
34. I was surprised to see that the games had separate restrooms for the men and women, this time around—until later on, when it was obvious they wanted to A) have the first murder skirmish happen exclusively with men and, as such, needed a place where the male players could realistically be isolated from the female players; and B) they really, really wanted the moment when #149 (the old lady mom) insists to the guard that #120 (the transgender player) is a woman and can go to the bathroom with her and the pregnant girl.
34A. Now, I quite liked #120, even if the writing for him/her was broadly the same kind of trite/cliche sympathy-grabbing technique that made the pregnant girl likable just for wanting to protect her baby. (Though, in fairness, #120 at least has a couple of definable personality traits in addition to this; the pregnant girl does not.) And I thought adding a transgender person into the mix of the frequently “live together/die alone” environment of the game was an interesting idea, in the same way that adding the shaman was, because people would generally want to avoid dealing with someone so markedly outside the norm. Things didn’t have to get too “political” over it, just matter-of-fact: #120 exists, folks have opinions (or don’t) that influence alliances, and then a core group attaches to him/her regardless of opinions outside of who he/she is as a person. And that’s exactly how the show handles it.
34B. …except when it doesn’t. Which is not a huge issue, but I still want to mention it because I think it undercut what was an otherwise good (if somewhat shallow) use of the character. Because, in a season mostly starved of solid character-driven subplots, the mother and son and #95 befriending #120 was some of the more interesting character dynamics we’d gotten: #95 immediately accepts she’s a woman, the mother immediately frowns that he’s a weird man, and the son immediately thinks it’s rude to say anything in either direction and it’s none of his business. Again, the important detail is that who #120 is as a person quickly becomes the most important detail about him/her, especially to this group that depends on him/her for strength and leadership—with #120 having to navigate the fact that consistent affirmation or acceptance of his/her personal reality is not only unlikely but may not even be necessary when trying to forge relationships. Sort of a live-and-let-live or meeting-halfway journey for all involved, with the pressures of survival in the games fast-tracking the road to a mutual understanding as a matter of pragmatism.
34C. Which is not what we get. Instead, we have the characters sort of awkwardly turn to the camera and make vaguely cringe-y affirmations for no other reason than to prop up #120—which sucks. Do I believe that the son might say that some transgender women end up being hotter than biological women? Sure—as an awkward attempt to show that he wants to do more than just fence-sit on the issue for the sake of his new friend. Do I think the mother might go overboard in asserting that #120 is a woman? Absolutely—in that she should have no real understanding of transgenderism and is trying to show that she’s okay with the whole situation through the language and perspective that she already has at her disposal (like the impolitic razzing about #120’s breasts). But, again, that’s not what we get. We get these moments spoken with no other purpose than to uplift #120 to the audience, not as an interaction between him/her and the other characters. Which disappointed me. Because it’s either a totally missed piece of obvious character writing opportunity or a light bit of virtue signaling. And neither is good.
34D. But, again, I quite liked #120 (who was my…second or third favorite new character). And I was shocked when I realized that I knew the actor.
35. Speaking of characters I liked, though, I really liked seeing the dopey magistrate guy from Kingdom as the thug lackey who ends up partnered up with the cop on the ludicrous storyline to find the Squid Game island and take out the whole organization. Though that may be because I think the actor is always a total cinnamon roll in everything, so I’m predisposed to like him. But, whatever, he blunted how much I didn’t want to spend time with the cop, so it’s a win.
36. …even though it is ABSURD that he just happens to know a mercenary crew of ex-special forces they can hire on super-short notice. I mean, the dude’s a thug, not an international crime boss. That was the best excuse you could come up with to get them into the plot? Really?
37. Similarly: I have no idea why they let Thanos keep his cross. I guess the guards read the script and knew it was secreting drugs.
38. The Infinity Stones/painted fingernails gag was funny, though. I admit that.
39. I know the Front Man participating in the game is sort of rigging things on its own, but don’t think I didn’t catch what he did during his top-spinning challenge in the five-event game: every failed attempt he made was thrown by his right hand…but, when he finally won, he used his left. I’m onto you!
39A. …like, apart from how you have explicitly let the audience know that you are, in fact, rigging things as a secret member of the apparatus running the game.
40. And, just to wrap things up on a nice, even number: the actress playing the pregnant girl is pretty cute. She’s no Song Ji-woo or Park Gyu-young, but I’m okay with her sticking around for a while longer. For the record.
And that’s Squid Game 2: an entertaining but demonstrably lesser remix of Squid Game with all the same flaws but none of the same highs, probably leaving you disappointed if you wanted another season of what you liked the first time around but otherwise probably leaving you satisfied if you’re just hoping for something watchable. I mean, I watched the whole thing in one sitting—easily. And happily.
Did you see it? Did you like it? Are you excitedly awaiting the second half of this story like I am?
Either way, I hope you had a fun New Year’s. And ate your weight in Christmas cookies. If that’s the kind of thing you enjoy.
D - 9 until SI4.
More soon.
—Daryl
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