Squid Game: Capitalism is the real monster in new Netflix show
Chances are, you’ve heard of the new Netflix Korean drama Squid Game by now.
The show’s reach has seeped its tendrils into every pop culture conversation. Squid Game, by all merits, is now Netflix’s crown jewel. Netflix CEO Ted Sarandos projected that this may be Netflix’s biggest show of all time.
The show’s massive international popularity has stirred many different conversations. But the most important conversation is who is the real villain? Holding individual characters accountable for their actions is easy. The real villain isn’t a “who,” but a “what.”
Writer and director Hwang Dong-hyuk doesn’t mince words. And we received the message loud and clear. The villain is a system. It is capitalism.
The show’s message especially has credence in Gen Z’s increasingly anti-capitalism sentiments.
On the surface, Squid Game is a mystery thriller. Players are recruited only when they’ve been beaten down, massively in debt, and exist on the fringes of society, but then, a chance. At redemption perhaps? But with a money prize of $40 billion, redemption can be anything they want. The players play a series of Korean childhood games. And if they don’t want to die, well, they better win.
The show is gritty and uncomfortable and paints a raw, nihilistic critique on capitalism and the effects it takes on society. Actions taken by the characters, whether morally good or bad, do not exist in a vacuum. Any decision a character makes isn’t independent from their environment. And in a game meant to break and dehumanize you for money, there are no morals. There is only survival.
Hwang Dong-hyuk is intimately aware of poverty. He shopped the show around for a decade and had to sell his laptop sometime in between to survive. The show was borne out of his post-Recession experience, but Korea is historically conservative. So many topics are still taboo. At the height of economic upheaval, the show would have been too radical.
Korea’s rich are extremely rich, and Korea’s poorest live in the dredges of poverty. Following the success of Bong Joon Ho’s 2019 Parasite, Korean media has grown more comfortable critiquing the country’s vast wage disparity – second highest in the world.
Despite its forward facing image to the rest of the world, life in Korea isn’t all glamorous Kpop idols and Seoul-colites. When you peel back the shiny exterior, you’re left with a grim reality. You‘re given the illusion of choice, and Squid Game captures this illusion well. Sure, the players were given a choice to participate in the game, But how much of a choice is it really, if refusing means you’re just spat out into a world that reduces you to a dollar sign.
Existing outside of capitalism is impossible. Countless barriers exist for the working poor, so the notion of working yourself out of poverty is ludicrous. Even Seong Gi-Hun, the main character, couldn’t end the games on his own terms. Everyone is a victim in a system that robs you of your dignity, that strips you down to your base instincts, that encourages you to view your community as competition.
Even the pink guards in Squid Game are victims. Illegally harvesting organs for a wad of extra cash is objectively immoral – but they, too, were just trying to survive in the oppressive structure and prepare for the world awaiting them afterwards.. Despite their apparent power, even they are disposable once they no longer serve a function.
Though the show is a grotesque display of the consequences of capitalism, it serves as a mirror into ourselves, our lives, and our world. The billionaires entertain themselves while the working class fight each other for crumbs. Still, this leads us to another question. Is this media radical enough for anti-capitalists?
The answer is a resounding no.