The much-anticipated second season of Squid Game has finally landed, and with it comes a medley of highs and lows, sharp twists, and bittersweet disappointments. While the first season was lauded for its unflinching critique of societal hierarchies and its deeply emotional narratives, Squid Game 2 feels like a diluted echo of its predecessor, stumbling under the weight of heightened expectations and the greed of corporate serialization.

Let’s start with the brighter spots, dim though they may be in the overall shadow of the season. Gong Yoo’s increased presence is a genuine highlight. Every second he’s on screen feels electric, a masterclass in understated charisma that leaves the audience wishing for more. Though his screen time remains fleeting, it’s a testament to his talent that he manages to inject so much gravitas into what could otherwise be a throwaway role. Lee Byung-hun, reprising his role as the enigmatic Front Man, similarly commands attention with his characteristic poise. His layered performance adds a veneer of intrigue to a character that could easily have become a caricature in less capable hands.

Another pleasant surprise comes in the form of Jo Yu-ri’s acting debut. Her portrayal of a young contestant, desperate to secure a future for her unborn child, is one of the few emotional touchpoints of the season. Her earnest performance brims with authenticity, grounding an otherwise chaotic narrative with moments of genuine heart. It’s a promising start to what will undoubtedly be a flourishing career.

The new games, albeit fewer in number, manage to retain the macabre creativity that defined the series’ first outing. Bloodier and more ruthless than before, they are designed to shock and awe, keeping viewers on edge with their relentless brutality. These moments remind us of what Squid Game once stood for: a visceral critique of human desperation framed within a grotesque spectacle.

Yet, these few merits cannot mask the glaring flaws that plague Squid Game 2. Chief among them is the show’s blatant exploitation by Netflix, which opts to leave the season dangling on a cliffhanger. The bitter irony of a series built on critiquing capitalism’s excesses being reduced to a tool for corporate gain is almost laughable. Instead of a coherent, self-contained story, we’re left with an unfinished tale, a dangling thread that screams “watch the next installment” rather than providing any real closure.

The truncated format of only seven episodes does little to alleviate these frustrations. The first three episodes are bogged down by redundant exposition, rehashing familiar themes and setups from the first season. For returning viewers, this feels like a tedious exercise in redundancy, while new viewers are unlikely to be drawn in by such meandering storytelling. By the time the show finds its footing, it’s already rushing to an unsatisfying conclusion, leaving little room for the kind of emotional depth that made the marble game in season one such an unforgettable moment.

This lack of emotional investment is further exacerbated by a cast of largely forgettable characters. While Jo Yu-ri’s character shines, others are relegated to the sidelines, serving little purpose beyond cheap comic relief. Thanos, in particular, is a glaring misstep. His antics are grating and pandering, dragging the show’s tone into unwelcome territory. His eventual demise is less of a tragedy and more of a relief, a moment where the series mercifully spares us from further irritation.

Perhaps the most egregious sin of Squid Game 2 is its abandonment of what made Korean dramas so compelling in the first place: their commitment to telling a complete, satisfying story. Unlike Western series, which often stretch narratives thin in pursuit of longevity, Korean dramas traditionally pride themselves on tight, cohesive storytelling. The decision to end this season on a cliffhanger feels like a betrayal of this tradition, a move dictated not by artistic integrity but by the cold calculus of profit margins.

In the end, Squid Game 2 is a pale imitation of its predecessor. While it offers glimpses of brilliance in its performances and games, it’s ultimately undermined by a rushed narrative, underdeveloped characters, and the suffocating influence of corporate interests. The series has lost its edge, trading its incisive social commentary for the empty spectacle of a franchise being milked for all it’s worth.

If you’re able to overlook these shortcomings, Squid Game 2 might still be worth a watch for its fleeting moments of brilliance. But for those hoping to recapture the magic of the first season, you’re better off looking elsewhere.