Squid Game Season 2: The Battle Royale of ‘Been There, Done That’

You ever have a one-night stand that was so good, so unexpectedly mind-blowing, that when you see their name pop up on your phone a year later, you think, Yeah, let’s run that back—only for round two to be a disappointing mix of déjà vu, awkward pacing, and misplaced expectations? That’s Squid Game Season 2 in a nutshell.

Hwang Dong-hyuk, our beloved director and writer, probably thought he was doing us a favor, coming back with a continuation of Netflix’s most-watched series of all time. I imagine he walked into the writing room like Tony Montana, slamming a wad of script notes onto the table and yelling, We’re doing this AGAIN! But instead of delivering a revolutionized expansion of his already brutal satire on capitalism, Squid Game 2 feels more like a corporate-mandated victory lap that trips over its own shoelaces. Okay, not really that bad, but dammit, I was frustrated with the ending.

Don’t get me wrong. There are parts of this season that absolutely slap—just not always in the places you want.

When last we saw Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae), he was standing in an airport, red hair blazing like an anime protagonist who just leveled up, about to board a plane to go see his daughter… before promptly turning around and declaring a vendetta against the Squid Game organization like he was Liam Neeson in Taken. Season 2 picks up right where we left off, and for a solid 1.5 episodes, it tricks you into thinking we’re about to get a radically different story.

Gi-hun is now less of a hapless loser and more of a John Wick-in-training. He’s got money, he’s got motivation, and he’s got… a loan shark bestie? Yep, in an ironic twist, the same type of scumbags who harassed him last season are now his allies in this Batman-esque war on the Squid Games. The first two episodes are like watching an undercover Narcos episode before we get sucked back into—sigh—another Squid Game.

That’s right. Despite all the promising setup, Gi-hun gets captured (again), and now we’re right back where we started: with a bunch of broke degenerates playing deadly hopscotch for cash.

One of the first season’s strongest qualities was its scathing indictment of capitalism’s never-ending hunger to chew up and spit out the working class. Season 2 tries to elevate the message, but it often feels like a guy repeating the same political rant at a party, just slightly louder this time.

This season doubles down on modern financial horror. We’ve got contestants who lost fortunes on cryptocurrency, influencers who scammed their followers (subtle jab at Logan Paul, anyone?), and a pregnant woman who signed up for the games because fuck maternity leave, I guess. The show throws a lot of contemporary financial nightmares at the wall, and while some stick (the social commentary on economic desperation remains chilling), others feel like they were cooked up by a marketing exec trying to seem hip.

The biggest missed opportunity? The show flirts with an even darker message—people willingly choosing to stay in the games despite knowing the cost—but never fully commits. Instead, it leans into melodrama, rather than tackling the real horror: that, in the real world, people would probably choose the Squid Game over their crushing student loans.

One of Squid Game’s greatest strengths has always been its characters. Season 1 had a perfect mix of lovable underdogs (Ali, Kang Sae-byeok) and absolute scumbags (Jang Deok-su, you greasy bastard, you will not be missed). Season 2 tries to recreate that magic, but with mixed results.

Meet Your New Favorite Cannon Fodder:

Thanos (Choi Seung-hyun) – No, not the purple murder-god, but a disgraced rapper who treats the Squid Game like Coachella and proceeds to get on everybody’s nerves.
Hyun-Ju (Park Sung-hoon) – A former Marine trying to fund their transition surgery (genuinely one of the more compelling backstories).
The Influencer Bro (Im Siwan) – A crypto scammer who thinks he can hustle his way through life. Spoiler alert: he cannot.
Kang No-eul (Park Gyu-young) – A North Korean defector who should have had a bigger role, but instead gets sidelined for much of the season (justice for No-eul!).

Despite some promising additions, many of these characters feel more disposable than Season 1’s crew. The emotional depth is thinner, making their inevitable deaths feel more like a checklist than genuine gut punches.

Okay, let’s be real—the Squid Game aesthetic remains elite. The pastel hellscape, the eerie children’s toys, the doll from hell making her triumphant return—the show still looks amazing. The cinematography continues to contrast innocence with brutality in a way that makes your skin crawl.

That said, the violence feels a little… excessive this time? Like, Season 1 had a raw, terrifying edge to it. Season 2 sometimes leans too much into the “edgy for the sake of edginess” category. I might be nitpicking at this point…

If you thought Squid Game Season 1 lacked subtlety, Season 2 is no different. The writing is still solid, with some genuinely tense moments (that Russian Roulette scene? Chef’s kiss). But there’s also a lot of filler. The vote mechanic, which was a crucial moment in Season 1, is overused here. Every few episodes, the players get to vote on whether to stop the games, and every time, the result is the same. It feels less like an actual plot device and more like Netflix needed to pad the runtime.

The Good:

✔ Gi-hun’s revenge arc had potential
✔ Some solid new characters
✔ The Russian Roulette scene is a fucking banger
✔ The cinematography remains top-tier
✔ The new games were pretty fun

The Bad:

❌ Pacing issues—way too much filler
❌ The new contestants lack the depth of Season 1’s crew
❌ The games feel repetitive (more recycled than a Starbucks straw)
❌ The ending is a half-story, forcing us to wait for Season 3

Final verdict: Worth the watch, but temper your expectations. Does it hit as hard as Season 1? No, not really. It’s like your favorite band dropping a good sophomore album—it’s fun, it scratches the itch, but it doesn’t blow your mind like the first listen.

At the end of the day, Squid Game is still better than 99% of Netflix’s offerings (looking at you, reality show spin-off). But if you’re expecting a reinvention of the wheel, you might want to temper those expectations. After all, the game will not end unless the world changes—and neither will Netflix’s need to milk this IP for all it’s worth.