A lot of games, especially engaging ones, employ a very simple system of risk and reward. Theoretically, you can play it as safe as possible, never straying from the strategically or statistically safest option. Yet the phrase “fortune favors the bold” didn’t spring out from thin air, since those who take decidedly risky options, when it all works out for them, reap decidedly greater rewards. This has been a tried and true system for games, sports, and even life. Many people espouse the importance of going beyond the confines of the comfort zone, to venture into the unknown and win rewards and success that would have otherwise been unattainable; there is a whole cottage industry around people giving inspirational speeches that boils down to this fundamental idea.
But there are limits to the idea of risk and reward: the two have to be balanced in order for the activity to be worthwhile. Sometimes, no matter how high the reward, there are some risks that we aren’t willing to take. Say for example, we wouldn’t play a game that would win us five dollars, if there is around a ninety percent chance that we lose twenty dollars every time we played. However, if the reward rises along with the risk, if the reward given is so monumental that the immense risk is made trivial by comparison, then we may be motivated to act.
All this preamble to talk about “Squid Game,” the new and explosively popular Korean Netflix show about disadvantaged people participating in deadly reimaginings of popular children’s games to win an impossibly large sum of money. The show is an excellently written and produced piece of gripping fiction. It has so readily captured the imaginations and fascinations of its viewers that many content creators–may that be YouTubers or video game creators–have begun creating replicas of the events in the show, imagining what it would be like to participate in a game of life or death for a ludicrous prize.
However, the love for the series goes beyond the morbid fascination with the death game; it extends to its varied cast of colorful characters, all of whom have received countless fan works. Say what you will about its later development or certain casting decisions, but overall, the writing of "Squid Game" and the way it chooses to represent its characters and the death game they play is both believable and delightfully over-the-top at the same time.
What I find interesting about the craze regarding “Squid Game”’s popularity specifically is the aforementioned love for its characters. Compared to similar works like “Hunger Games,” with its similar plot line of people competing in a gruesome game to the death, there is a strange love for most of the characters that participate in a system that allows them to actively benefit from having your fellow contestants die in gruesome ways. So how did characters like Cho Sung-Woo gain sympathy from the viewers when Cato did not? It is because there is an air of believability to their actions and lovability to their character. Though there are some ruthless villains, most of the participants, whether they be cunning or ruthless, have some level of fanbase.
Unlike the government-sanctioned murderers that litter the fields of “Hunger Games,” in “Squid Game,” everyone playing is a person. They have their own goals, their own motivation, and their own desires that really only can be fulfilled by the prize at the end of the game. They are characters that banter, trust, betray, and play the game to guarantee their survival as much as possible, whilst abiding by personal moral codes and conducts. Finally, we know the backgrounds from which these characters come from and understand why the prize money is important for them. For the most part, their desperation does not come from the vice of greed, but a desire to continue living a sense of dignity that they cannot financially afford.
I would like to go back to the idea of risk and reward mentioned at the beginning of this piece. The risk of playing the “Squid Game” is the near guarantee of one’s own death, whether that be through the hands of the enforcers or other players. The reward is an impossibly large sum of money to get anyone out of the terrible financial predicament they find themselves in. “Squid Game” presents its characters in a way that makes the decisions for these people to play the game not only justifiable within the context of the fiction, but entirely believable in the context of them being people who live in a fictional world not too dissimilar from our own.
Many people have pointed out how “Squid Game” serves as a biting critique of capitalism, showing that the fact that the contestants murder each other to gain what they have is not too different from how the superrich of our world gained their fortune through unethical practice. I am not here to argue for the validity of this interpretation of the story; however, let us not forget that the show managed to convince us as viewers that it was believable for a person to consider being financially unburdened a great enough reward to play despite the risk of death. That stands to me as a far more incendiary and poignant criticism against the institution of capitalism than any other myriad of arguments it may propose.
More and more it becomes apparent that human dignity has a capital price now. The inalienable rights to life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness that our nation championed at its inception now have a price tag attached. May it be through inflated housing prices or incomprehensibly large medical debt, many people, through misfortune or design of our institutions, find themselves disadvantaged, powerless, and destitute, with the current Covid-19 pandemic doing nothing to ease the pain. Through these harrowing times, it is natural for people to turn to escapist narratives or a gripping fiction to keep their mind off of reality. “Squid Game”’s ascendency in popularity in this particular time of hardship may entirely be a coincidence. It may have to do with all the other excellent parts of its frankly astounding production value. Or it may have to do with the fact that more and more people are beginning to entertain, even if it is in their escapist fantasy, the idea that perhaps the reward for escaping their hardships may be worth the gamble of their lives. May the mere plausibility of this last idea, that our desperation may weigh the same as our lives, speak to the destructive effect of inequality in our time.
The Student Movement is the official student newspaper of Andrews University. Opinions expressed in the Student Movement are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors, Andrews University or the Seventh-day Adventist church.