Capitalism Killed Squid Game

Capitalism Killed Squid Game

As a child of the 80s and 90s, I can vividly recall the impact that games like Duck Hunt and Super Mario Bros. had on me. They were fun, engaging, and a significant part of my formative years. However, when it comes to the recent wave of Squid Game derivatives, I find myself feeling a mix of amusement and dismay.

In one of the initial episodes of Squid Game 2, our working-class protagonist Seong Gi-hun (played by Lee Jung-jae) is called to a dance club on Halloween night. As he navigates through partygoers dressed as seductive nurses, cops, and skeletons, he eventually identifies the masked individual he’s been chasing. This mysterious figure is adorned in the bright pink tracksuit of a Squid Game guard – a costume choice that might be a subtle reference by creator Hwang Dong-hyuk to the widespread use of Squid Game costumes during Halloween 2021, when Netflix’s Korean sensation premiered and swiftly became their most-watched series ever. Whether or not this was Hwang’s intention, the obvious link that viewers will draw between this scene and the rapid commercialization of the show underscores how significantly its meaning has transformed.

The series known as “Squid Game” – a gripping drama that exposes how ruthless capitalism forces financially struggling individuals into a life-or-death contest for the amusement of the wealthy elite – has become a brand ever since it gained global popularity. Fans purchase Squid Game merchandise, pay to join Squid Game simulations, and watch Squid Game reality competition spin-offs. Given that the show originates from the world’s largest streaming platform, this development is both predictable and ironic. However, as we approach the second season of the three planned seasons, it’s evident that the Squid Game industry has distorted the original political message of the art, in ways that are both peripheral to Hwang’s narrative and deeply embedded within it.

Capitalism Killed Squid Game

Previously, the remorseful winner, Gi-hun, was heading to the airport to meet his daughter in the U.S., but he paused when he spotted the Squid Game recruiter (Gong Yoo) targeting fresh participants in a subway station. Unable to abandon the 45.6 billion won he had won, he decided against a new beginning. As the Season 2 premiere unfolds, Gi-hun abandons his journey at the airport, swears to track down the enigmatic Squid Game creators, and removes the tracking device they must have planted under his skin.

Two years on, he’s ensconced in a seedy Seoul hotel, now his fortress, where his fixation with vanquishing the creatures who made him wealthy persists. To achieve this goal, he’s shelling out millions to a shady search team, tasked with scouring the public transit system for the enigmatic recruiter resembling the White Rabbit. Simultaneously, detective Hwang Jun-ho (Wi Ha-jun) has recuperated from an assassination attempt by his elder brother, In-ho (Lee Byung-hun). His pursuit in Season 1 of this missing sibling led him to the island hosting Squid Game, where In-ho unveiled himself as the sinister Mastermind of the lethal games. Upon refusing participation in the yearly massacre of 455 hapless debtors, In-ho shot Jun-ho. Now disenchanted with his traffic cop duties, Jun-ho is lured into Gi-hun’s unofficial investigation. This sends Gi-hun back to the Squid Game arena for 2024, while Jun-ho and his eclectic team endeavor to track him and ultimately put an end to the games once and for all. Much like the survivors of Lost, they must return to the island.

Capitalism Killed Squid Game

The story progresses at a sluggish pace, covering only two of the seven episodes this season before reaching its destination. As it drags on, the series repetitively reemphasizes Gi-hun’s criticisms of the wealthy spectators who enjoy Squid Game and spends excessive time on less significant characters. When Gi-hun dons his green tracksuit again, new players are introduced to give the season emotional depth, but the narrative feels like a repetition of Season 1: play, murder, anger, repeat. In this aspect, Squid Game 2 is remarkably similar to another widely acclaimed death-game sequel, The Hunger Games: Catching Fire. The return of the giant, eerie robot doll Young-hee for another Red Light, Green Light game is more fan service than innovation. Although there are new games, their vibrant, nursery rhyme-inspired killing fields offer little change from the violent scenes viewers witnessed earlier. After the games commence, Jun-ho’s quest to find the island becomes secondary. The abrupt ending of the finale leaves the season feeling unsatisfyingly incomplete.

While it’s not accurate to say that “Squid Game 2” is a complete letdown. Instead, it maintains its unique visual appeal and delivers top-notch performances, especially from Lee Jung-jae whose international fame deserves recognition. This season introduces more complex female characters, ranging from a pregnant contestant to a self-proclaimed shaman. Intriguingly, there’s a man who learns that his mother has entered the games in an attempt to alleviate his financial burdens, reminiscent of the endearing mother-son duo from “Squid Game: The Challenge.” The first guard we get to know is actually female (Park Gyu-young), even though her storyline doesn’t fully meet the potential hinted in the initial episodes. A trans woman character, portrayed sensitively and who is also a military veteran, presents a compelling case for LGBTQ individuals in the armed forces, although this point is somewhat contradictory due to the choice of a cisgender male actor (Park Sung-hoo) for that role.

Capitalism Killed Squid Game

In terms of its themes, an alteration in the rules allows players to vote after each match on whether to carry on or end the game and share the money they’ve amassed thus far, which further explores concepts related to the power of the majority, expanding upon hints from the first season. Observing the uniformed participants make potentially self-destructive decisions, one after another, mirrors the unease felt during election results announcements. However, these sequences, much like each individual game, tend to drag on excessively. By the third round of voting, tension transforms into boredom. It takes nearly the entire season to break through the monotony, and when intriguing events finally occur, it feels as though you’ve just spent seven hours watching a supersized sneak peek for Season 3.

The popularity of “Squid Game” as a brand has surpassed that of the original show, with its first season serving as a comprehensive artistic expression. As reported by Variety, creator Hwang initially expressed no desire to produce a second season. However, due to an unfortunate twist of events, he agreed to continue the series due to dissatisfaction with the compensation received for the initial season. In a subsequent interview with Variety, Hwang voiced his frustration with “Squid Game”, stating that he is tired of creating and promoting it. This fatigue is noticeable throughout Season 2.

As a film enthusiast, I can’t help but feel that the wave of narratives resembling “Squid Game” has become overwhelming over the past three years. From official merchandise like the $110 Young-hee necklace to countless unofficial items, it seems everyone jumped on the bandwagon for Season 2 collaborations. Companies such as Mattel, Crocs, Johnnie Walker, and many more have joined in.

The populist point of the original Squid Game was that we should resist the commodified and aestheticized violence inherent in a system that enriches a wealthy few while forcing the poor to fight each other for scraps. If anything, the bankability of Squid Game the brand—a category in which I’d include Squid Game 2—illustrates how thoroughly we’ve failed to absorb that lesson. What Squid Game does has drowned out what Squid Game says. And what began as a stark satire of greed, exploitation, and economic polarization has largely devolved into a cash-cow franchise like any other. It reminds me of something the Front Man tells Gi-hun in the new season: “The game will not end unless the world changes.” Will it ever?

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2024-12-26 12:07

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