Squid Game is not a subtle show. It is impossible to misinterpret its very obvious message that the games are bad, and people should NOT be driven to such desperation by a merciless capitalist system that they will murder each other for rich people’s entertainment. I would not be the first to point out that there is some conflict in the fact that we, the viewers, are watching all these competitors get killed for our entertainment, but still: despite the violence, despite the shock value, there is no ambiguity around the narrative intention.
In this spin-off video game from Netflix, by contrast, the games are not bad. They are supposed to be fun. You run around colourful obstacle courses trying to kill as many of your fellow players as possible to advance yourself to the next round, their cartoon avatars crumpling comically when stabbed or burned or shot only to respawn seconds later. When you win, you get money and tokens to buy new zany outfits for your vacantly smiling character, and then you go again. In this madcap tumble, the message of the TV show is … rather lost. This is a Squid Game adaptation for people who think that Walter White was in fact the hero of Breaking Bad.
Still, what else is a game developer to do with Squid Game? With a few exceptions, critical commentary on violence and capitalism is not something that this medium is known for; it would have been a bold choice. So they’ve gone for the most harmless, toothless interpretation: don’t these games look like fun? Wouldn’t you like to have a go? The violence has been toned down to cartoon shrieks and spatters of red. The games have been reduced to the most frictionless, uncomplicated minute-long snapshots, requiring very little skill or attention. Considering the source material, they have made Squid Game almost impressively inoffensive.
The problem is that a much better version of this battle royal slapstick gameshow video game already exists. It is called Fall Guys, and it is extremely popular. Many of Squid Game Unleashed’s contests are almost indistinguishable from Fall Guys’ challenges, and it brings nothing new to them, except baseball bats and knives. The signature games of the TV show do make an appearance – Red Light, Green Light works exactly as you’d expect, without any of the tension because you simply respawn at the starting line every time you fall foul of the eerie giant doll’s motion detectors. Dalgona, meanwhile, instead of making you frantically tap out umbrella or triangle shapes on your phone screen, has been reinterpreted as a race where the surest route to victory is to stand still while other players run around doing all the work for you before making a last minute dash for the finish.
I found few of the 40+ minigames here exciting, or especially competitive. Even ignoring the sheer incongruence of the shower of rewards and cash that await you after every round of the death games, and the Fortnite-like character customisation – am I not supposed to be playing against desperate down-and-outers, rather than people dressed as robots and K-pop stars? – it’s not much fun. The controls feel imprecise, like you’re skating over the ground. Jumping feels floaty and unpredictable. I never felt sure when a swinging obstacle was going to hit me, and when I was going to make it past. I didn’t feel like I was ever getting any better at the games. I either got lucky, or didn’t. Mostly, I just got frustrated.
When I imagined a video game adaptation of Squid Game, I did not imagine running around an arena in a golden pig outfit trying to hit a player called skibidi69 with a baseball bat. Perhaps I set my expectations too high, but the only shock value here is in the lack of imagination.
