Squid Game (Season 2) 'Netflix' Review: An All-or-Nothing Gamble That Is Yet To Pay Off

Surviving the Squid Games should’ve set Seong Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae) for life. 45.6 billion won is an inordinate amount of money, substantial enough to pay off his debts, help out the families of his fallen comrades, and carve out a comfortable existence for himself. Although Gi-hun does all of the above, a simmering discontent plagues him years after his pyrrhic win, leaving him stewing in rage-fueled guilt that will forever haunt his heart. In “Squid Game” season 2, Gi-hun has his sights set on vengeance and is armed with the conviction that this barbaric sport should come to an end. And he is just getting started.

Before we plunge back into this bleak, stakes-heavy world, it is crucial to note that series director Hwang Dong-hyuk wrote seasons 2 and 3 back to back and that the two stories form halves of a whole. Although the first season ends on a cliffhanger, it is a clear indicator of a fresh chapter, where the re-birth of an enraged, redheaded Gi-hun lends to the anticipation for what’s to come. What does occur next is nothing short of dazzling: Season 2 goes all-in on its bet, taking a high-risk, high-reward strategy to map a return to the titular games. The highs are nail-bitingly tense, often euphoric, and a re-treading of the familiar premise does not feel stale at most points. That said, this is a deliberately disjointed tale, meant to ramp up an itch for the next season. The gamble is not yet over, and the results of this zero-sum game leave too many unresolved strands in stasis.

What Season 2 does best — apart from turning the risk-and-thrill meter to a 100 — is cement Gi-hun’s interiority as a changed man. There are rare glimpses of the old Gi-hun, thanks to conversations with childhood friend Jung-bae (Lee Seo-hwan), but his perennial instinct is to remain guarded and protect the rest of the players, who remain oblivious to the reality of the games. Although Gi-hun has been kind even during his flippant, desperate years spent gambling, this mellow sentiment has now been sharpened by survivor’s guilt and the one-tracked desire to dismantle the games from within. We root for him to succeed more than ever, as this iteration of Squid Game contestants feels more ruthless, more willing to kill to secure a life without debt.

However, a moral void is always counteracted with a firm compass, as some players believe that their humanity is worth holding on to, even during a bloodbath. This is where “Squid Game” makes its riskiest gamble: a necessary narrative leap that is meant to disrupt the established framework of our expectations. A sense of dissatisfaction is key to making this work, as we have already made up our minds about how we perceive the players situated front and center. Every death matters, as does every win, and even the most expected betrayals hit hard on a playground that is designed to embolden liars, pretenders, and the worst instincts in humanity. In the previous season, Gi-hun and his friends were just a few among many — unremarkable fodder for the capitalist machine — but this time around, they are a real threat to the foundation of the games, cogs completely independent of the machine.

The Front Man (Lee Byung-hun), detective Hwang Jun-ho (Wi Ha-jun), and ddakji recruiter (Gong Yoo) return to keep us on our toes, and their respective arcs are expectedly significant, yet one of them feels mired in disappointment. We get long, deep glimpses into personal motivations, stories rooted in pain and grief, and an uncomfortable reckoning that broken social systems beget deeply broken people. What makes a difference is perception and choice, the paths chosen to move forward, but this does not guarantee fairness, as hyper-capitalist economies don’t incentivize or reward selflessness or compassion.

These personal revelations, both in the real world and the game arena, are backed by remarkable performances, and all of the fresh faces manage to make a strong impression amid the escalating chaos. Without giving anything away, I must highlight Wi Ha-jun’s astounding ability to imbue the Front Man with such intricate layers, which paints a complex portrait of a man willing to twist every flaw and vulnerability in his favor. Also, as expected, Lee Jung-jae elevates Gi-hun to the next tier in this iteration, swinging between rage and grit while never letting go of his consideration for others. This is a conflicted man with nothing to lose, as he has already given up on his dreams of perceived normalcy and happiness.

While “Squid Game” returns with a grander, meatier battle plan, the cracks seeping into its sprawling narrative might be very, very easy to overlook in the face of the glittery spectacle of adrenaline-pumping death games and bodies dropping like flies. Whether these flaws morph into convincing red herrings or necessary heel-turns can only be answered by the upcoming final season, which needs to fulfill the tall order of pulling off this bet without risk of ruin.