Season 2, Episode 3, “001”

Season 2, Episode 3, “001”

(Editor’s note: The fourth episode recap will appear on December 29th.)

It’s addictive, isn’t it? As soon as the overalls are put on, as soon as the bullets start flying, as soon as the body count increases. There is a tendency – I’m guilty of this – to treat Squid game purely as an intellectual exercise. Holding your nose at all the blood splatters and screams, ignoring the tension of feet stamping on the sand and the terrible Rube Goldberg machines that start moving when live ammunition and human panic collide.

But the compulsive viewing nature of the games is part of it Squid gameCriticism of human nature and its own admission of the satisfaction it provides. “001” is already a more energetic episode of television than the previous two, even before Seong Gi-hun faces that damn “red light, green light” puppet again. But once the game begins in earnest, Squid game wastes no time reminding you why its combination of brutally high stakes, clear-cut rules, and an undercurrent of human foibles have made it one of the most-watched television shows in the world in 2021. More importantly, the episode avoids repetition by changing the scope of the story and making it clear to viewers that it is just that one The game is really on, at least for now: the one between player #456 and player #001.

That’s not to say we don’t get to meet a lot of new characters in this episode, as the series does its usual efficient job of quickly and clearly outlining personality types. There’s Jung-bae (#390), who appeared in the very first episode of the series as Gi-hun’s horse racing friend. There’s Myung-gi (#333), who we watched in “Bread And Lottery” get a good slap in the face from the recruiter, and who turns out to be a former YouTube crypto star who screwed over his followers. (As we meet our new victims, several remind us that series creator Hwang Dong-hyuk has paid close attention to the games’ real-life versions in the three years the series has passed.) Rapper Thanos ( #230) is so thoroughly joke-coded that it’s hard to take him seriously, while Im Jeong-dae (#100) is a warrior veteran who’s convinced he’ll regain the upper hand at some point. The only thing we learn about Cho Hyun-ju (#120) is that she’s a trans woman and heroic as hell – which is what Jang Geum-ja (#149), an older woman who joined in to save her , doesn’t stop his son Park Yong-sik (#007) from his gambling debts, from turning his nose up at her. And Kang Mi-na (#196)… Well, we don’t have to worry too much about Kang Mi-na, do we?

The show introduces us to most of these people with their typically deft use of shame as a social stimulus. The organizers of the game show videos of each of them receiving their slaps while a voice talks about how deeply in debt they are all. Gi-hun stands aloof, watching as a crowd that seems younger and more restless but still slightly intimidated by the games’ cash-backed authority line up to unwittingly give their consent to enter getting shot in the head. Convinced that his stupid plan* will save everyone, he’s only broken from his steely concentration when he sees Jung-bae, who seems to remind him that these are real people in the line of fire. This rolls into the first moment of the Old Gi-gun, which we’ve gotten all season (and the first really big, dark laugh of the episode) when he realizes that the game organizers have found his tracking chip, pulled it out, and no rescue is coming: the camera zooms approaches, his face drops, and a decidedly non-stoic “I’m screwed” echoes in his head.

(*Stupid Plan Update: Woo-seok and Jun-ho spend a lot of time floating around in a boat with the stupid private army, following the tracker who was thrown into a container of literal bait. I continue to be annoyed by this one Plan Line because a) it’s inherently boring, just guys on a boat holding guns and trying to look cool, and b) it’s obviously doomed to fail because we’re not a TV show have when Gi-hun is private The army rushes in and saves everyone before the games start. It adds no suspense, satirical value or interest to the episode, it’s just a matter of setting the table, and I think we can expect the table to be well and thoroughly set in three episodes.)

Anyway, back on The Good Show: We get our real stakes for the season when Gi-hun, in a desperate attempt to save this new group of idiots from themselves, breaks through his aloof expression by giving instructions on the Survive and serve as a shooter caller for the game “Red Light, Green Light”. And it almost works until a stray bee triggers a chain reaction of panic that results in about a fifth of the pack being shot within minutes. Meanwhile, the series’ decision to broaden its focus for the second season pays off, as we not only get to see Front Man In-ho watching the action, but also one of the snipers putting bullets in people’s brains hunts, No-eul from the last episode is . In his first season Squid game made a virtue of largely treating the guards like a faceless, unfeeling force, but saw No-eul adopt a posture of calm superiority as she gunned down “the trash” (at least until she realized that Player #246 was the father of the sick person). The little girl she befriended in “Halloween Party” is really scary. We can talk about the games, the organizers, the frontman and all those funny, faceless proper names. But beneath the masks, Squid game reminds us that it’s still just people pulling the trigger.

The game itself is generally exciting, as Gi-hun manages to organize the surviving players into something like a proper team, helping them hide minor nervousness from the all-seeing eye. (It also further highlights the arbitrary nature of the supposedly “fair” games, as many people are shot due to the actions of others – most notably the group of people that a pinching Thanos deliberately pushes into the line of fire before leaping across the sand.) There’s even a life-or-death moment for our otherwise overcompetent hero, as Gi-hun (assisted by Hyun-ju) goes back to save a man who’s been hit by a bullet in the leg, barely making it all over the to reach the finish line. With only 91 deaths – as opposed to the hundreds who didn’t survive “Red Light” last time out – it’s a qualified but clear victory for Team Keep Everybody Alive… all the better for a much more crushing defeat in the final third of the episode .

Because while Squid game He loves and needs the games, he loves the shit that comes after even more: the massive argument and fictionalization that erupts when Gi-hun tries to capitalize on the survivors’ shock and a vote to close the games to exclaim. Clause 3 has always been the cruelest trick in the organizers’ arsenal, hammering home the illusion of choice on which the Games thrive. (Because after all, you are coordinated to be here, right?) By changing the rules slightly (firstly by announcing that participants will now keep their existing prize money if they vote to close, and by requiring each player to publicly record their vote with patches). his overalls), the show widens its satirical net to include concepts of tribalism and politics. Even Gi-hun – who we know literally knows better – feels like another voice screaming in a room, trying to strengthen his side and eliminate the other, in the face of this new, worse version of democracy in action. When Player #001 shows up to break the final tie, it’s almost golden… and we see that In-ho has decided to follow in the footsteps of his old mentor Oh Il-nam and enter the Games as a player. After all, his thumb was already on the scales before he even put on his overalls Squid game finally gets to “The Good Shit” after two episodes of goofing around: God knows where it goes from here.

Crazy observations

  • It’s a bit of a shame that Hyun-ju is played by male actor Park Sung-hoon and not a real trans actor. Hwang addressed the decision in recent interviews, essentially saying that transgender people are still so discriminated against in South Korean society that he couldn’t find anyone to play the role.
  • The most menacing character in the episode is the mysterious #044, a fortune teller who seems fixated on Gi-hun.
  • The show’s set design is still top notch: the Escher-style staircases in light pastel tones still convey the surreal nature of the world very well, and the puppet itself remains an amazing piece of design.
  • The addition of the “everyone keeps the money they’ve already won” rule is an interesting change: it gives players even more of the illusion of choice by convincing themselves that they can opt out before the time comes Really bad.
  • We’ll probably delve into this in more detail in future episodes, but it feels telling that unlike Oh Il-nam – who, for all his evil, was still in the first few games – In-ho infiltrates the players first after “Red light, green light” is done.
  • The revelation that Hyun-ju has also returned to help rescue #444 is genuinely exciting – and only makes the misery of No-eul shooting him anyway even more disheartening.
  • FYI: 24 million won – the share the Red Light, Green Light survivors would each take home if they voted to leave – is about $16,500. The full price Gi-hun received is approximately $31.5 million.
  • One of the worst points of the vote: Organizers accused Gi-hun of election interference and suppressed his arguments at gunpoint.
  • Thanos, Jeong-dae, Myung-gi, Hyun-ju and the mysterious #044 are all in the “Keep Going” camp. Gi-hun, Geum-ja, Jung-bae and a reluctant Yong-sik all vote to quit.
  • It’s fascinating how quickly the voices become an identity marker, right down to the hand symbols of both sides to try and influence #001’s voice.
  • “We always value your voluntary participation.”

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