Are you willing to do anything in order to win? In Netflix’s hit series Squid Game, demoralised people on the margins of society — unemployed, impoverished, in debt, gambling addicts, embezzlers, a Pakistani labourer, a North Korean defector — are invited to participate in a series of children’s games. Those who lose are killed instantly in a gradual process of elimination. The participants can leave the game at any time — but only if the majority votes to do so.
Still, the sole winner not only gets to live but is also awarded a 45.6bn won (about ￡29m) cash prize, with no strings attached. Life, the game seems to echo, will diminish you, but you must find a way to honour it and preserve it. What happens to you while you’re trying to reach your goal will reveal your falsehood or integrity.
In the days of post-lockdown anxiety, Squid Game has reached number one on Netflix in 90 countries, from Bangladesh to Brazil as well as in the US and UK, and is on track to be the platform’s biggest show ever. So why has this hyper-violent South Korean thriller struck such a chord across the globe, in developing countries, emerging markets and advanced economies alike? Behind the horror show, you will find a trust game. Trust not in the system or in others but in how far you trust yourself.