It’s hard to believe it’s already been three years since Squid Game Season 1 hit Netflix and
took the world by storm back in 2021.
This show truly proved that a Korean drama could achieve global popularity on an unprecedented scale.
Sure, there were previous hits like Dae Jang Geum that were popular in specific regions,
but Squid Game felt like the first time a K-drama became a full-blown global phenomenon.
******* Genre: Survival Thriller / Psychological Drama / Dystopian *********
It wasn’t just a survival game drama — it delivered powerful social commentary that left a lasting impression
while keeping the tension high throughout every episode.
As I recently watched Season 2, I decided to go back and share my thoughts on Season 1.
It feels like this kind of groundbreaking series deserves more than a one-post review,
but breaking it down by each episode also seemed like too much. So here it is — my full take on Season 1.
The story centers around Seong Gi-hun, a man drowning in debt and hopelessness.
One day, he receives a mysterious invitation to participate in a high-stakes competition with a huge cash prize.
At first, he sees it as a chance to escape poverty, but soon realizes he’s caught in a brutal life-or-death struggle.
Childhood games are twisted into deadly battles, and viewers, like Gi-hun,
are dragged into a pit of confusion and despair.
As the games progress, the participants lie, betray, and reveal the darkest corners of human nature in order to survive.
The contrast between the characters is striking — and yet, as the story unfolds,
you start to see that they’re not so different after all.
The expressions of hope and fear flickering across their faces felt so real and nuanced.
One moment that stuck with me was the first game —
“Red Light, Green Light.” Who would’ve thought this innocent childhood game could become so terrifying?
The transformation of something so pure into a deadly execution created an intense sense of dread and
tension from the very start.
Each episode introduced a new game that came with fresh shocks.
The tug-of-war episode was especially nerve-wracking — not just a test of strength, but of strategy and teamwork.
And the glass bridge game? That was a psychological thriller all on its own.
With every step, the pressure mounted, and the choices made by each character
painted a vivid picture of the lengths people would go to survive — deception, sacrifice, desperation.
I still remember shouting at the screen: “Are they really gonna shoot them?!”
Also... I kinda wanted to try the old man’s “winning strategy” just to see if it really works.
You can’t talk about Squid Game without mentioning Han Mi-nyeo.
From the beginning, she made a strong impression with her bold and unpredictable personality.
She stirred up conflict with her shameless, over-the-top attitude, but beneath all that,
you could sense her loneliness and raw survival instinct.
Her line — “If I survive this, I’m going to really live well” — was unforgettable.
Despite being disliked by many, she held on until the very end and made a bold sacrifice on the glass bridge.
Her presence left a powerful mark on the story.
And then there’s Player 001 — Oh Il-nam.
Let’s just say... watch the show to find out who he really is. That reveal? Wild.
Another heartbreaking storyline was Sae-byeok’s.
Before entering the game, she had no choice but to leave her younger brother in an orphanage.
Her dream was to win the prize money and build a life with him, but in the end, that dream never came true.
The scene where her brother is placed in the care of a kind grandmother was incredibly touching.
It highlighted the deeper themes of family, loss, and sacrifice beyond just winning or losing the game.
Maybe because I was raised by my grandma too, but that part really stayed with me
I found myself deeply moved by the characters’ backstories.
Not just Gi-hun, but also Sang-woo, Sae-byeok, Ali… each had their own reasons for being there.
Learning what drove them to risk their lives made me feel a strange mix of sympathy and heaviness.
Sae-byeok’s strength paired with her quiet warmth made her incredibly compelling.
Ali’s innocence and Sang-woo’s cold decisions created a painful contrast.
It was a stark reminder of how survival can bring out very different sides of a person.
Ali in particular — even though he wasn’t the main character, his story pulled me in completely.
What made each character so captivating was, I think, the performances.
Every actor brought their role to life so vividly that it felt real.
Thanks to Squid Game, many of these actors skyrocketed in fame and built impressive careers afterward.
Visually, the show was unforgettable. The green tracksuits, the pink uniforms, the geometric sets —
everything felt meticulously crafted to pull viewers into the world without ever feeling out of place.
The masks worn by the guards were especially iconic.
The simple geometric shapes weren’t just an aesthetic choice —
they symbolized authority, control, and cold uniformity in a chilling way.
That said, I did have a few small complaints.
The pacing in the final episode felt a bit rushed, and Gi-hun’s choices
after the game ended left me wanting more explanation.
Some character arcs were also wrapped up a little too abruptly.
Still, these were minor issues compared to the overall impact of the series.
Yeah... even at the very end, it had me going, “Wait, what??”
In the end, Squid Game Season 1 is more than just a thrilling drama.
It’s a story that challenges the audience to reflect on human nature and the contradictions of modern society.
By using the structure of a deadly game, the show masterfully explores themes of capitalism, inequality, and morality. Once you start watching, it’s nearly impossible to stop. If you haven’t seen it yet, I highly recommend giving it a go.
I kept thinking — if I were in that game, what choices would I make?
Would I survive...? 😅
Now that I’ve finished Season 2, I really need to write a review on that too.
And I really hope Season 3 comes soon!
