Gi-hun deserved better than the predictable ending that he got in Season 3 of Netflix’s Squid Game.
On the surface, this ending makes sense for Gi-hun. In Season 1 he went from absent father to determined hero. And in Season 2 he went from hero rallying the troops to broken man, his efforts resulting in his best friend dead. An arc like this denotes that in Season 3, Gi-hun rises and is victorious over the game. But that didn’t happen. That broken man barely woke up from the pain he was suffering to take care of a baby and then leap to his death.
When I first watched the ending of Squid Game Season 3, the death of Gi-hun made sense. He was choosing to be better than the Front Man, who had been consistently testing him with situations that he himself went through to prove that Gi-hun was no different than him. And Gi-hun jumping instead of killing the baby meant that his humanity, the thing that had saved him time and time again, was still present. That in itself is a victory. But you know what else would have been a victory? Gi-hun surviving the games.
Killing Gi-hun after viewers suffered through three seasons of falling in love with characters to only watch them tragically die, is a realistic ending. People die. The happy ending rarely happens, especially in a world where money comes first, and lives are second. But I don’t need a show like Squid Game to tell me that. Because it’s been telling me that for two seasons and unfortunately in a world where money first, lives second, rings true more often than not. What I needed was a little bit of hope that the underdog can beat the greedy and selfish billionaires who think that the players are nothing but horses in a race of their design.
Squid Game Season 3 gave me realism when all I wanted was hope. And I keep thinking about that now after having rewatched the show, and initially thinking that I was okay with the ending. I’m not anymore. Because Gi-hun dying was predictable. As soon as I saw Jun-hee was pregnant, I knew her storyline would be an essential part of the show. You don’t present a pregnant woman in the middle of a brutal game for nothing. And when the baby became part of the game, I knew Gi-hun was done for. If I can spot that obvious plot line episodes ahead of your intended outcome, that’s weak and predictable writing.
I returned to Squid Game season after season for the incredible stories being told. And even though I knew pain was a given, I lived different experiences through these varied characters. But in this exchange of me committing to this show, there has to be a return, especially if you’re ending the show. Squid Game Season 3 didn’t do that. They let Gi-hun pick his ending, forever making him an honorable man in a sea of death. But the payout for me watching all this pain was the Front Man delivering bloodied clothes to Gi-hun’s daughter and the confirmation that the games are still alive and well.
Truly, I don’t even know if Gi-hun holding onto his humanity even changed the Front Man.
If you’re going to go out with a bang like Squid Game Season 3 did, I should have a little bit more certainty about where the Front Man is when it comes to the games. He has seen countless deaths before Gi-hun and he still did what he did. Who’s to say this did anything to change him for the better? Maybe he didn’t. Maybe I’m reading too much into it and trying to make this journey worth it. And maybe Squid Game started as a poignant commentary on the extremes some will go for money and entertainment. But it ended as a hopeless tale of how the house always wins.
Squid Game Season 3 is now on Netflix.
