Whatever happens in this horrific, deadly battle for the marbles, some people are more than human. They protect those who can't protect themselves. If you were disappointed with the second season of Squid Game, take a closer look at the third. Nothing human or inhuman is alien there. In the very final season, they stripped the human psyche to its core—and even deeper.
I was (un)pleasantly surprised by the third season. In the six episodes, I saw what people are capable of when there's a lot of money at stake. But I also saw the heroes, who stand up for the weak, and how far they'll go to save their protégé. Deep emotions welled up inside me. I really wanted to wish terrible things upon some of the characters in the series. And when those characters didn't move on (read: died), I was genuinely happy. But when some other characters didn't survive, real tears of sadness streamed down my cheeks.
Hate and love are closely related—and that proved all too true in this case. I screamed at the television: "Die! Kill him/her!" Had I sunk that low? No, in this case I wished a fictional character dead, and obviously not the actor who, at that moment, was clearly the object of my unabashed hatred. But in that same scene, I could have cried buckets of tears for a character who had died. Or rather, was being murdered.
Over the course of the six episodes, I asked myself, "What would I do?" Would I want to eliminate my competition? Would I also develop inhuman traits at the sight of such a huge wad of cash? I don't know, and I hope I never find out. Because it's not just with Squid Game that I ask myself that question. I also regularly ask myself that question with other series, where humanity in all its forms takes center stage. Everyone will probably say, "I would never do that." But history shows that nothing human is alien to us.
In other words: We're only human too, right?
