‘Squid Game’ Season 3 is unsatisfying, repetitive
The final season fails to recapture the magic that made the show popular
Neal Wong • June 27, 2025 • Published in Golden Gate Xpress
Heavy spoilers ahead.
Four years after “Squid Game” became a global phenomenon, its third and final season arrived lacking the creativity and depth that made the first season such a success. What should’ve been a satisfying conclusion instead feels drawn-out, repetitive and predictable.
These final six episodes pick up after the failed rebellion in Season 2, with Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae), player 456, broken after the loss of his friend Jung-bae (390). Gi-hun is simply delivered to the player quarters in a box after his capture, a flat resolution that sets the tone for the season.
Creator Hwang Dong-hyuk certainly made the season darker and more brutal, as promised. While hide-and-seek with knives, a giant jump rope with the risk of falling to death and a “Sky Squid Game” (which plays nothing like the actual game) all delivered shocking, gory moments, spectacle alone can’t sustain a show.
I remember watching the first season and being captivated by how each brutal moment served a larger purpose. It wasn’t just about violence — it explored how economic inequality strips away human dignity and how the vulnerable in our society are pitted against each other while the wealthy watch and profit. It was grotesquely believable because the characters felt so real.
In comparison, the characters introduced last season remained frustratingly underdeveloped. There were lines here and there gesturing to their pasts, but I still didn’t truly understand them as people. I was glad to see annoying players like the sham shaman (044) and the very vocal greedy guy (100) finally die, but the gradual elimination of Gi-hun’s allies left me mostly unaffected.
The exceptions were the deaths of elderly mother Geum-ja (149) and trans veteran Hyun-ju (120) — characters who actually had depth — but their unceremonious ends felt disappointing. Meanwhile, the VIPs received more screen time than in the first season, only to deliver corny lines in attempts at humor.
Frustratingly, the show is predictable. After watching Season 2, it was obvious that the players would keep voting to continue the competition. As a result, scenes intended to build tension around votes felt like wasted screen time.
To its credit, Season 3 maintains the visual excellence that made the series a feast for the eyes in the first place, continuing to play with bright colors and the fun, innocent aesthetic that made the gore so unsettling. The acting also shines, with Lee Jung-jae giving an emotional performance as Gi-hun and Lee Byung-hun continuing to bring depth and nuance to the Front Man.
But strong technical elements and performances can’t mask deeper narrative issues. Dramatic tension and higher stakes initially came in the form of player 222’s baby — a plot development that made me take notice, thinking the show found a fresh way to explore deeper emotions. However, the season failed to use this opportunity to drive character development. Instead, it felt like a curse, with everyone who protected the baby ending up dead.
Watching Gi-hun nobly kill himself so the baby could win felt devastating but also hollow. It was performed well, but the death served to shock, not to further the story.
What frustrated me most was seeing the main plot thread fall apart. I was invested in Gi-hun’s mission, believing the show was building to the definitive end of the games. Even with his rebellion ending in futility, the mercenaries and Jun-ho’s (Wi Ha-joon) search for the island provided hope for a satisfying conclusion, but this became an abandoned storyline that deserved more.
Season 3 serves as a cautionary tale about stretching a great story past its natural conclusion. While moments of strong emotion shine and its visuals stand out, this finale ultimately confirmed what I suspected after Season 2: some stories are meant to be told once, powerfully, and then left alone.
Netflix may tout this as the conclusion to its most successful international series, but I believe audiences will remember it as a reminder that not every cultural phenomenon needs to become a franchise. Cate Blanchett’s appearance in the final scene as the American Recruiter doesn’t have me excited for a spinoff. Sometimes, the best thing a story can do is know when to end.
