Fierce, famous and finished? Netflix's “Squid Game” at a crossroads

Creator Hwang Dong-hyuk never set out to make just a twisted game show. From the beginning, “Squid Game” was a story about what it means to survive a ruthless system with your soul intact. But now, with its massive success, does it risk becoming entertainment shaped by that same system: a marketable, profitable, polished franchise built for bingeing, stripped of its edge? Has it become just another mainstream series?

When “Squid Game” dropped in 2021, no one could’ve predicted how quickly it would explode. It didn’t just break records, it turned a Korean drama into a global obsession and forced Netflix to rethink what kinds of stories audiences crave. With season three smashing records and delivering a heavy, symbolic finale, some fans and critics are wondering whether the franchise has reached its peak. 

At its core, “Squid Game” is a moral parable disguised as a dystopian game show. With each season, the stakes grew, not just in bloodshed, but in meaning. Season three’s finale takes Gi-hun from a desperate father to a reluctant revolutionary and, finally, a sacrificial symbol. His final act isn’t about winning, it’s about choosing not to let a rigged system take another life.

It’s a surprising turn for a show known for shocking twists and unforgettable visuals. It has always been about more than brutal children’s games and tension. Beneath the violence is a challenge to the audience. It has viewers pondering such questions as What would you do? And what does that say about you?

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The show sparked global conversations about class, debt, and inequality. Viewers saw their own struggles reflected in the playground games of Seoul. It wasn’t just entertainment. It was a cultural shift.

 “Squid Game” changed Netflix’s strategy as well as the world’s appetitefor darker, more provocative narratives from outside Hollywood. After season one’s success,Netflix invested billions into Korean storytelling. Hwang Dong-hyuk, once a struggling filmmaker, became an industry icon. 

But global fame comes at a cost. With pressure to keep the hype alive, will “Squid Game” be able to maintain its edge, or will it turn out to be another empty high-budget distraction dressed up as social commentary?

Season three was billed as the final act, and in many ways, it delivered. Despite over 106 million views in just ten days, the conclusion's reception wasn’t unanimous. Some fans loved the symbolism; others recoiled at a CGI baby that felt out of place. When Gi-hun says, “We are not horses. We are humans,” it hits like a gut punch. He is saying that behind all the spectacle and violence are people with lives, dignity, and stories. 

Many fans praised Gi-hun’s final choice as powerful and poetic, calling it the only ending that truly honored the show’s message. Others were frustrated by the ambiguity and emotional whiplash, feeling robbed of closure, especially after learning there was an alternate, more hopeful version. 

In a post-release interview with Vanity Fair, Hwang revealed there was an alternate ending where Gi-hun reunites with his daughter in the US. He scrapped it, calling it “too simple and comforting.”

Maybe that’s the point. “Squid Game” wasn’t meant to comfort. It made us confront hard truths through children’s games and question the systems we live in. Now, it stands at a crossroads: Walk away while it's still respected, or risk losing what made it matter in the first place?