In pursuit of the 45.6 billion won prize pot, this eclectic gang play a new set of deadly games, pausing only to take incremental votes on whether or not to continue the competition or split the cash currently in their giant aerial piggy bank. As bullets rain, blood pours, friendships are formed, allegiances tested, and pawns discarded, you’ll see familiar contests (Squid Game surely isn’t Squid Game without a round of Red Light, Green Light?) but also several thrillingly twisted, psychologically taxing new ones.
Over the course of the next four episodes, I gasped at soap opera-style revelations, marveled at the surreal, gorgeously rendered, ice-cream hued sets, got goosebumps at the lilting theme music, bit my nails and held my breath as my favorite players tried to scrape through the rounds, screamed when they didn’t, and punched the air when they did. Tonally, the show is a total master class, zipping from euphoric highs to stomach-jolting lows without batting an eyelid, and leaving us to unpack why such a deplorable and devastatingly sad contest can also make us, and its participants, feel so incredibly good.
