In 2021 when Netflix’s Squid Game first dropped, with a fraction of the fanfare its new season now has, everything was shockingly new. Every new game, new rule, new character, and a new revelation about the dystopian games that satirised capitalism with truly deadly stakes had us on edge. After a three-year break, the show is back for a second season and manages to ace its biggest challenge yet — ensuring the proceedings are just as tense, shocking and horrifyingly new. 

Show creator Hwang Dong-hyuk picks off from where he last left us. Seong Gi-hun/contestant 456 (Lee Jung-jae) decides to abandon his plans to fly abroad to his daughter, and circles right back to Seoul, determined to track down those responsible for the deadly games he emerged the billionaire winner of. Three years later, he is putting money to good use, having set up base in a shady motel and scouring train stations with a battalion of goons for the elusive salesman (Gong Yoo in an absolutely smashing and thankfully longer appearance this time around) who recruits people for the games. Not too far away, former violent crimes detective turned traffic cop Jun-ho (Wi Ha-jun) is also on a quest of his own, to further probe into the deadly games he witnessed on the island, and seek answers to his brother’s ‘disappearance’. 

It takes a couple of episodes to get to the actual games and this deliberate writing choice pays off. We spend a couple of episodes following Gi-hun and Jun-ho scrambling to track down the men behind the games, all while also learning about some potential contestants. It isn’t long before Gi-hun finds himself on the dreaded island, amidst hundreds of contestants in green-and-white tracksuit uniforms. Chase Kyung-sun’s production design is, once again, outstanding, and we are back to the eerie pink and yellow staircases (inspired by M C Escher’s Relativity), the foreboding dormitory with a glowing piggy bank hung from the high ceiling, and of course, the much-dreaded playground for the red light green light game, complete with the giant, creepy motion-detecting doll. 

Unsurprisingly enough as Gi-Hun soon realises, greed born out of desperation is consistent. His valiant efforts to dissuade the contestants from going forward to the games go in vain. The contestants themselves are a smartly put-together bunch of characters, and very telling of the times. There’s disgraced rapper Thanos (an over-the-top yet entertaining Choi Seung-hyun), a crypto influencer (Im Si-wan), his pregnant ex-girlfriend(Jo Yu-ri), a former marine (Kang Ha-neul), mother-son duo (Kang Ae-shim and Yang Dong-eun), a transwoman looking to complete her transition (Park Sung-hoon) and Gi-hun’s friend from the outside world (Lee Seo-hwan). All of them are burdened by debts for reasons that range from the need for life-saving treatments to gambling debts, and the desperation has meant taking to extreme measures.

If you thought watching the same game the second time around might be repetitive, think again. The red light green light game this time around is just as nerve-wracking, as a desperate Gi-hun attempts to get more people to cross the finish line. As the games progress, the show continues to push boundaries with creative twists on seemingly harmless children’s games. However, none of the remaining games match the brilliance of the tug-of-war or the glass bridge hopscotch from Season 1. Physical, brute strength aside, the show this time dwells quite a bit on mind games, right from the start when Gi-hun confronts the Front Man (Lee Byung-hun) about how manipulative and exploitative all this is. There is an additional layer of tension here with a surprise contestant, as well as with all the contestants segregated into two factions which adds to the constant sense of unease; you know it won’t be long before the dormitory descends into bloody chaos once the lights are out. 

It is the coming together of a near-perfect ensemble cast, excellent production design, sharp storytelling, and a brilliant musical score that makes this sequel binge-worthy. Lee Jung Jae and Lee Byung-hyun are excellent as the two main men, one trying to play the hero and the other a silent, manipulative observer. Just watching a long line of other K-Drama stars make an appearance feels exciting enough, and  Kang Ha-neul, Kim Ae-sim, Park Sung-hoon, and Netflix-favourite Park Gyu-young are particular stand-outs.  

While the soldiers outfitted in pink march in comical precision to strains of ‘Blue Danube’, and lullabies play loud and clear in the dormitory following a bloody and chaotic altercation between the participants, you can’t help but chuckle when Shin Hae Chul’s ‘To You’ (remember Reply 1988?) plays loudly over the speakers all through a particularly challenging game where the participants behave like they are at a school sports day. 

Over the last few months, there has been a global promotional blitz in the lead-up to the show’s release and a Squid Game collaboration is seemingly everywhere. Over the last few years, we’ve seen a video game based on it, as well as a reality show spin-off (the irony!). 

While sequels seldom make a mark or bow under the weight of the pressure, Squid Game mostly manages to live up to the hype. There is a lot that is new and creator Hwang Dong-hyuk explores the psyche of not just the participants, but the masked, pink soldiers too. We are, however, left with more questions than answers, a conscious decision probably given that a third season is imminent. While many shows and films are embracing sequel-baiting, earning the wrath of fans, Squid Game’s second season feels satisfactory, despite the cliffhanger ending. While the participants themselves continue to stand divided as to whether to continue or not, I was left wanting to see what happens either way — either in bright pink and yellow dystopia or the equally scary real world. 

Squid Game Season 2 is streaming on Netflix