The conclusion of South Korea’s hit Netflix series Squid Game delivers excitement and disappointment. I admire the ubiquitous appeal of the first season, and the more I thought about it, that is likely where the story should have ended. There are good times to be had in this final season, which was really the second half of the second season, but it ultimately has a contrived narrative arc that is messy instead of compelling. 

 

I dare not spoil what happens. Devotees of this show already understand the basic set-up and premise of the Squid Games themselves. The outer story threads, of which there are many, weave in and out between the shocking brutality of the games, where destitute and addictive contestants battle it out in blood and betrayal to receive prize money by playing child games. 

 

Therein lies the rub: I cannot truly delve deep into what worked and did not work for me in this final season without ruining the plot itself. 

 

I will talk around the precious details that (try to) tie up the lateral stories. But first I will sing the praises that this show deserves. This show is a mixed bag, and there are lots of great things to take away. Firstly, Gi-hun (Lee Jung-Jae) remains a fantastic lead; a lot of his emotion is conveyed through expression instead of dialogue this season. Additionally, the surrounding cast members, both on and off the island, deliver top-notch performances that break through foreign language boundaries. I am granting an exception to the VIPs, who are finally introduced this season. Their use in this season ultimately became inconsequential, becoming glorified spectators instead of the big villains we were teased they would be. Additionally, they were overdubbed in English, which eked out comic-book level of silliness instead of the scary stoicism from the Front Man (Lee Byung-hun).

 

The games this season were also a high mark. The first two, hide-and-seek and jump rope, were extremely well crafted pushing the tension and causing second-hand anxiety. The final game, a king-of-the-hill adjacent game was also interesting but was handled with contrivances that forced the final crop of players to make unconvincing decisions. 

 

I had a small fear watching the end of the second season that the show would lean more on its spectacle and violence instead of its outlying storylines. I was hopeful that this season would wrap up the journeys of its characters and provide a great payoff. I kept hanging out for the pay-off to land, and I received a consolation prize instead (no pun intended). 

 

The main theme of the show appeared to be humans are still capable of doing good things even when the chips are down. In a way, the show got there, but not in a way that was truly earned. The many characters face betrayal, anguish, grief, and suffering, and a gradual ascent to human integrity is ironically cheated. Perhaps, there is a cultural bid at work here; many South Korean stories in film and television provide downer endings, and maybe I should know better. 

 

The biggest takeaway from this season is not even a spoiler at this point, as we see the beginnings of a Squid Game: America at the very end. Maybe we’re just all doomed, and this show is reflective of our nihilism. This last season still packs a visual punch but lacks a satisfying emotional weight behind it.