Squid Game is back to being dark, bloody and brilliant

Telegraph

a day ago

As it at last wriggles across the finish line, Squid Game (Netflix) finds itself in a sticky spot. The tricky task confronting the final series of Netflix's ultra-violent thriller about a group of desperate, destitute citizens competing in a series of bloody contests is to recapture the zany, almost comedic energy of its sensational first season from 2021 – a challenge it never quite accomplishes, though not for lack of effort.
Action-heavy, packed with twists – and the occasional sprinkling of Hollywood stardust – it's a well-intentioned and on-the-whole successful conclusion to a brutal South Korean blockbuster that has captured the world's imagination. Fans will be generally satisfied, even allowing for several well-signposted 'shocks' yanked like a reluctant rabbit from a blood-drenched hat.
Squid Game has also, of course, added a reported $900 million to Netflix's bottom line. Which is presumably why executives went to such lengths to coax the show's initially reluctant creator, Hwang Dong-hyuk, into turning what was supposed to be a one-off drama into a franchise. He said yes, but there was always a sense of an auteur shackled to a production line.
These six concluding episodes are an improvement on last Christmas's dour second season, which replaced the satirical edge of the original with an onslaught of gunplay seemingly aimed at fans of Keanu Reeves's John Wick. Taking care not to waste viewers' time, Hwang sensibly gets straight into the fray. As we catch up with seemingly unkillable Contestant 456 (Lee Jung-jae), his short-lived uprising against the evil billionaires behind the show's brutal survival puzzles has been suppressed, his friends shot dead in front of him.
Rather than send 456 to meet his maker, the game's masked 'Front Man' In-ho (Lee Byung-hun) has decided the upstart (real name, Seong Gi-hun) must continue to participate in the trials, alongside fellow competitors such as pregnant Kim Jun-hee and the mother-son duo of Geum-ja (Kang Ae-shim) and Yong-sik (Yang Dong-geun). Awaiting them is another sequence of brutally absurdist contests. These have the now-familiar sinister, childlike names, such as 'Jump Rope' – and a first prize of around £25 million. There is no second prize. Unless a gory death counts.
With the games continuing, renegade guard 011/Kang No-eul (Park Gyu-young) pushes on with her plot against Front Man and his wealthy backers, motivated by her trauma over her separation from her daughter in the outside world. Back on the mainland, Front Man's brother Jun-ho (Wi Ha-joon) proceeds with his frantic search for the hidden island hosting the games.
Amid the bloodshed and gunsmoke, it is often forgotten that the original Squid Game had a tongue-in-cheek energy that, at times, veered towards a sort of violent camp. Much of the fun stemmed from the borderline infantile quality of the specific games. Red light / green light (move on red, bullet to the head) and a Korean version of tag took on a surreal quality when juxtaposed with wanton death and mayhem. That magic was lost in year two as the games were elaborate and a bit too try-hard.
Third time out, the challenges hark back to the cartoonish cruelty of series one. Hwang Dong-hyuk also fulfils his promise that the tone would be 'more dark and bleak'. Nothing will recapture the sheer 'what the hell am I watching?' quality of a first season that came out of nowhere. But this is a satisfying sign-off – tied up winningly with a blood-stained bow.