My brutally honest Squid Game Season 3 review — why the global phenomenon should’ve ended with Season 1.
Before I watched season 3 of “Squid Game”, I reviewed the trailer and reported on how it racked up 60.1 million views, proving that the global hype was still very real. (You can read that post ). As someone who was genuinely rooting for this comeback, I was excited — hopeful, even.
As a Korean who lived abroad in the ’90s and early 2000s, I will eternally be grateful for “Squid Game”. It was more than just a show — it elevated Korean culture to the global stage and made Korea feel cool 😎 in the eyes of the world.
That’s how I felt watching Season 1.
However, by the time I finished Season 3, that feeling had almost evaporated. In Korea, we have a saying: “Leave when there’s clapping” (박수 칠 때 떠나라) — in other words, quit while you’re ahead. That’s exactly what I wished “Squid Game” had done. Season 3 left me skipping scenes because I simply didn’t care anymore, and that’s why I made a list of reasons why the series should’ve just ended with Season 1.
1️⃣ The Story Went Nowhere 🧠
It felt like creator Hwang Dong-hyuk got amnesia after Season 1.
At the end of Season 1, our protagonist Seong Gi-hun chooses not to board the plane, vowing to uncover the truth behind the Game. A bold, cliffhanger ending — the kind that begs for a meaningful sequel.
But by Season 2, we only find out the identity of the Front Man — and by Season 3, Gi-hun learns the same. That’s it. The show stops there. There’s no deeper reveal, no real progress, no answers about what the organization is, how it started, or who’s really pulling the strings. And the reason behind the Games? Just “entertainment for the rich”? That’s a pretty shallow motive, especially considering how strongly the series emphasized social commentary in the beginning.
When the sequel was first announced — despite Hwang previously insisting it would be a one-season show (money never fails!) — I had high hopes. I imagined Gi-hun going undercover as a guard, infiltrating the system. But Season 2 only teased the mystery, and by Season 3, the plot completely derailed into a pointless bloodbath with an underwhelming reveal. 😩
2️⃣ Lost Social Message 🏛️
Many fans rallied around Season 1 because of its sharp and artful social commentary — especially around economic struggles, human greed, and class disparity. That was the heart of the show.
But Seasons 2 and 3 seemed more interested in exploring “faith in humanity” — a concept they tried to contrast against humanity’s darkest impulses. The idea could have worked, but it didn’t land. Why? Because it got lost in endless blood and violence, rushed side stories, and shallow character arcs. The message felt drowned out.
3️⃣ It Lost the “Korea” in Korean Culture 🇰🇷
One of the reasons “Squid Game” struck such a global chord was because it felt so Korean:
- Childhood games like Ddakji, Dalgona, Marbles, Gong-gi
- The iconic green tracksuits
- Young-hee, the creepy schoolgirl doll now immortalized in memes
Even Season 2 gave us glimpses of Korean culture — from traditional games like Gong-gi to subtle moments like the pride associated with serving in the Marines.
But Season 3? Almost nothing. It became a generic, violent survival show. The games were long, grotesque, and could’ve taken place in any country. Aside from the alleyway sets vaguely resembling Korea, the show’s Korean identity — once its biggest strength — was gone.
4️⃣ We Stopped Caring About the Characters 👫🏻
What made Season 1 unforgettable was the emotional weight of the characters. Yes, they were desperate, broke, and morally flawed — but they were layered. We saw their humanity. We rooted for them. We cried when they died.
That emotional connection disappeared in later seasons. The characters in Seasons 2 and 3 were mostly one-dimensional, and some were downright despicable. (Thanos, anybody? 👀) By the final round, I didn’t care who won — and that’s a serious problem.
Worse, they added characters that actively hurt the story. 😫
Let’s talk about the VIPs. Who decided they needed bigger roles? Do we really care about what the rich think? They were so cliché and badly acted that they became a total distraction — not to mention annoying.
And then there’s the father who joined the Game for his daughter. His only purpose seemed to be giving No-eul a reason to turn on her boss. But even that could’ve been written without him. It felt like a role created just to cast a big-name actor, and it showed.
5️⃣ A Bigger Budget, a Weaker Cast 💰
Season 1 had a cast of mostly unknowns — Jung Ho-yeon, Anupam Tripathi — and watching them rise to stardom was part of the magic. We discovered them along the way.
But Seasons 2 and 3 were stacked with familiar faces like T.O.P and Lee Jin-wook and Yang Dong-geun (at least in Korea). That took away the thrill of discovery and made the casting feel like a marketing gimmick.
Even with a bigger budget and A-listers, the show fell flat. I guess even top-tier actors can’t save a story that’s lost its soul. 🫠
👩🏻🍵 Kayla’s Final Thoughts
I’ll always credit “Squid Game” for being a turning point in global recognition of K-dramas. It made the world take Korean storytelling seriously — and for that, I’ll always be grateful.
But sometimes, it’s better to walk away while you’re still on top.
Season 3 lost the story, the characters, the culture, and the message. It should’ve ended with Season 1 — back when the applause was still thunderous.
And maybe that’s part of the tragedy: Season 1’s global success created so much pressure to “go bigger” that the show lost the very soul that made it special. In trying to top itself, “Squid Game” became the very machine it once criticized — a spectacle built for entertainment, but stripped of meaning.
If you have some other thoughts or totally disagree with my take on “Squid Game” season 3, drop your comments below 👇
