The first season of Squid Game is usually described as an overnight success, but some light reading about Hwang Dong-hyuk’s backstory will tell you that it was actually around 2 decades in the making. The love and appreciation that that first season got was totally deserved. Everything, from the premise to the performances, was perfect. But instead of learning about the harmful effects of hyper-capitalism that Dong-hyuk was teaching, Netflix went overboard and ordered two more seasons of the show (which was basically one season split up into two) and a reality show as well. Influencers and YouTubers went nuts and began orchestrating their own version of the Squid Game tournament. There was merchandise everywhere, and the outcome of all this wasn’t good. Every single “creator” that cashed in on the hype of the franchise was lambasted. Those two follow-up seasons of the series were a major disappointment. The reality show was heavily bashed as well. However, none of that mattered, because the IP and its offshoots were watched by millions of people. Hence, here we are with a second season of Squid Game: The Challenge. Is it any good? I don’t know, man.
Spoiler Alert
The first four episodes of Season 2 have been “directed” by Gareth Birkett. By now, I suppose you know the plot of the show: 456 players enter the titular gameshow, and only one player will walk out of there with 4.56 million dollars. In this edition, the focus largely remains on the twins, Jacob and Raul; the Aussie, Jonti; the Star Wars nerd, Mark; the father-daughter duo, Curt and Zoe; the hospitality associate, August; the blabbermouth, Matthew; the model, Perla; and other miscellaneous “characters” that you know won’t make it all the way to the end. Some of the games that they have to play have been ripped straight out of the second season of Dong-hyuk’s show. The ones original to the show are so abysmal that they’ll make you question the creativity and imagination of the creators. Since there’s no actual plot, the methods used to create some drama amongst the contestants are somewhat unique. Interesting? Not by a long shot. And since Netflix has randomly decided to release the episodes of this show in segments on a weekly basis, it’s hard to say what all of this is building up to. Anyway, allow me to roughly dissect the episodes and give my thoughts on them.
In both seasons of Dong-hyuk’s show, the first game that the contestants had to play was Red Light, Green Light, and most of them were eliminated in the process. The first season did the same, but Season 2 completely does away with that. Instead, they divide the 456 players into 2 groups, put them into 2 separate rooms, and make them count from 0 to 456. When they reach zero, they have to hit a buzzer. The group whose timing will be closest to the official timer (which the players can’t obviously see) will be the winners, while the other group will be eliminated. Since this isn’t as interesting as freezing every muscle of your body when a giant doll looks at you and running to the finish line when it doesn’t, the contestants are constantly made to hush each other so that they don’t miscount. It might’ve been enthralling for the people in the room, but as a viewer, it’s pretty boring. Then they do the six-legged pentathlon from the second season of Dong-hyuk’s show, and the mini games within that pentathlon in the reality show are the same ones that the characters in the fictional show have to play. That’s weird, because none of the contestants in the reality show are Korean, and hence, they don’t have any connection to those mini games. Why? Couldn’t they come up with American, Australian, or British games? Was that too much of a task?
Episode 2 of Squid Game: The Challenge Season 2 does a somewhat neat job of incorporating the recruiter’s “bread versus lottery” challenge. In fact, that leads to my favorite moment from the entire series, where a guy yells enthusiastically after realizing that he has won a plate full of donuts while the guard carrying said plate of donuts just stands there in the most stoic pose imaginable. But then all that excitement is immediately ruined by the second game in the tournament, which is Catch. No, there’s nothing complex about it. You just throw the ball to another contestant. If they catch it, the game continues; if they drop it, then both the thrower and the catcher “die.” Now, look, all the contestants seem pretty able-bodied. They are in a well-lit room. The ball is pink, which makes it pretty visible against the white walls, floor, and ceiling. And yet, they somehow make it seem impossible to throw and catch a bloody ball. The hand-eye coordination, depth perception, and general athleticism of the players didn’t even infuriate me; it just disappointed me. I am willing to give those seemingly in their 60s and 70s a pass. Anyone below that age bracket fumbling it should either work on their fitness or get themselves checked, because this can’t be the state of our species. I’m not kidding; there should be nationwide surveys, and the country’s budget should be spent on making people healthy and fit enough to catch a goddamn ball!
The final game of this segment of Season 2 is Mingle, and yes, it’s the same one from Season 2 of Dong-hyuk’s show. There’s a giant carousel at the center of a giant room, and there are rooms all across its boundary. The players have to take a certain number of players into those rooms and then close the door before the timer runs out. Those who can’t get into those rooms on time “die.” This game wasn’t all that impactful in Dong-hyuk’s show, and it’s not impactful in the reality show because, well, I don’t really care about any of these contestants. From the get-go, Birkett and his team do a very shoddy job of masking the fact that none of these people are genuine. In the fictional show, due to the acting and storytelling, you kind of empathize with some of the characters. In the reality show, there are so many contestants who are blatantly spinning fake sob stories, and they are so unapologetic about it that it gets annoying. It gets so annoying that even if there are some contestants who actually need that money, you can’t believe them. And if you can’t believe them, you can’t care who wins the show and who doesn’t make it all the way to the end. You just become a passive observer to an ugly charade conjured by a streaming platform that wants to recreate the success of the first season of Dong-hyuk’s creation.
I always finish what I start. So, even if I don’t want to, I will get to the finale of Squid Game: The Challenge Season 2. But while watching these four episodes, I slowly came to the realization that maybe I might’ve been too harsh on Hwang Dong-hyuk, as well as the cast and crew of his show. I mean, sure, Seasons 2 and 3 of the show were undoubtedly cash grabs, but at the very least, you could sense some form of passion coursing through their veins, right? You could see them trying to bridge the time jump between the first season and the next two seasons in a meaningful manner. You could feel them trying to tell an original story while commenting on all the knockoffs, spinoffs, and whatnot that the first season had inspired instead of motivating people to fight against capitalism. This reality series has nothing going for it. After a point, it seems like the makers and the contestants don’t even want to capitalize on the success of the IP or subvert expectations. They just want to irritate viewers because they are (probably) being paid to do so. If that’s truly the intent behind this venture, what am I getting out of it? I am paying to get irritated? That doesn’t seem right. Hence, I don’t recommend giving this reality show (or any reality show for that matter) a watch. If you watch it anyway, do remember that you were warned.
