Squid Game Season 3 Review

Final Season Recap & Satirical Commentary

(Spoiler Alert: This Squid Game Season 3 review is brimming with spoilers for the final instalment. If you haven’t watched Netflix’s Squid Game Part 3, turn back now)

The twisted circus is back in town for one last act, and Squid Game Part 3 does not hold back. As the final season recap unfolds, the show somehow ups its own ante in absurdity and intensity. We pick up with Seong Gi-hun (Player 456) who was on a mission to destroy the game from within – he’s got nothing left to lose except maybe that questionable hair dye job from Squid Game Season 1.  After the death of his bestie in the last part, he has shut down and lost all purpose. The VIPs (those degenerate one-percenters in animal masks) are gleefully running a new edition of their favourite bloodsport, and Netflix’s Squid Game Season 3 makes it clear from the get-go: the body count will be high, and no one is safe.

Squid Game Season 3 features some of the most absurd plot choices the series has ever made (and that’s saying something). Think childhood games turned lethal on steroids: we’ve got deathmatch hide-and-seek, high stakes jump rope challenge (where our girl doll has a boy/friend), even a demented twist involving a newborn baby being added as a “player” by the sadistic VIPs. Yes, you read that right – a baby in a do-or-die game. However, once the baby twist happens, I think it was obvious what angle the show would take, no?

Despite the increasingly insane setup, Squid Game Season 3 keeps a free-flowing narrative momentum. It doesn’t pause for breath, except when a character demands a dramatic monologue (and trust me, everyone has a dramatic monologue this season).

Key Moments of Squid Game Season 3 That Broke Us (Or Made Us Yell at the Screen)

Cho Hyun‑ju, Player 120, and her Heroic Sacrifice

Cho Hyun‑ju, introduced back in Squid Game Season 2 but reappearing here in Squid Game Season 3, is still one of the series’ most compelling players. A trans ex‑soldier played by Park Sung‑hoon, she brings strength, leadership and fierce vulnerability to the battlefield. In the hide‑and‑seek rebellion, she trains fellow fighters and stakes her life to rescue Gi‑hun and others. Tragically, she meets her end, stabbed in the back by Myung‑gi (Player 333) during a chaotic game of hide and seek, and while protecting his newborn child. A death that could have been avoided if not for 333’s descent into bloodlust.

Jun‑hee (Player 222).  All she wanted was to feel less lonely.

Kim Jun‑hee, the heavily pregnant contestant who gives birth mid‑game, is the emotional centre of Squid Game Season 3. After enduring brutal rounds, she ensures her newborn’s safety by surrendering herself and willingly dying while leaving her baby to 456 to care for. Her death is a gut‑punch, and the newborn becomes Player 222-a weaponised symbol of new life and doomed hope (and of course a huge target for remaining players!)

Geum‑ja (Player 149), Mom Gone Dark

Geum‑ja’s Squid Game Season 2 introduction as a devoted mother collapses into horror here. Reunited with her son Young‑sik (007), she chooses shockingly: to protect Jun‑hee and the baby, she kills her own child in a cliffhanger moment. A guard delivers the final blow, but Geum‑ja shook fate into motion Then she kills herself in grief- another brutal twist that leaves the audience morally unmoored.

Gi-hun Strangles Dae‑ho (Player 388) The Moral Breaking Point

Gi-hun finally strangles Kang Dae‑ho (Player 388) during the hide-and-seek round, a moment that jolts the series. Dae‑ho, who pretended to be a Marine back in Squid Game Season 2, froze and tanked their guns-and-glory revolt. Blaming him, Gi-hun literally chokes out his guilt and rage. It’s raw, primal vengeance: he whispers “it’s your fault” while killing his former friend.

Myung‑gi (Player 333) Villain 2.0

Originally a crypto influencer gone broke, Myung‑gi returns as a self‑serving father to be. His turn from guilt‑ridden ex to full‑tilt psychopath is disturbing. His hatred peaks when he tries to kill Gi‑hun and the newborn, driven by greed and bitterness. He falls from the final platform, sealing his heel‑turn as a symbol of moral collapse.

Min‑su (Player 125) Drugged Walk into Death

Min‑su, the former lawyer turned pacifist, returns briefly. In a near‑hallucinogenic moment, he snorts something from Thanos’s necklace, getting high mid‑game. While it loosens him up, it doesn’t spare him: he dies semi‑peacefully, almost a whisper compared to the carnage around him.

The Return We Didn’t Get: Thanos (Player 230)

Yes, Thanos from Squid Game Season 2 gets a cameo… in Min‑su’s hallucinations. But where’s the swagger? He’s gone- no triumphant return in Squid Game Season 3. I missed that charisma and fun that Thanos brought to every scene. For me, he was the standout of the show.   T.O.P killed it in this role and needs to be in more things ASAP!

One Player Does Win…in a Way.

The father of the girl with blood cancer is rescued by the North Korean guard (011) and manages to find happiness away from the games. His daughter is cured with help from his friends (could it be the Front Man?) and he seems to have got some sort of happy ending in this twisted world.

The People we Love to Hate: The VIPS

Throughout these episodes, the cult-like figures behind the games are ever-present. The VIPs truly feel like a cabal or cult this time. One moment they’re toasting champagne to human suffering; the next, they’re imposing arbitrary new rules. One complaint was their dialogue, and English-speaking ADR took me out of the show, it was almost comedic in nature and not in a chilling way.

If you were hoping for a touching brotherly reconciliation or a heroic rescue… well, Squid Game laughs in your face. After spending two seasons sailing in search of him (with a comedically sketchy ship captain) Jun Ho and The Front Man’s reunion is as cold and unresolved as ever, ending with Jun-ho unable to pull the trigger on his own brother. In-ho walks away into the night with a baby in his arms, and Junho is left standing there like, “What just happened?” Honestly, I felt for Junho, he basically crashes the story just to stare awkwardly while the big showdown unfolds beyond him. At least he survives which is more than I can say for 90% of the cast.

The Death of Player 456 (Gi-hun’s Last Stand)

Now we come to the most shocking (well, not really) development of Squid Game Season 3: the death of Seong Gi-hun, Player 456. In the final game, it comes down to Gi-hun versus the treacherous Myung-gi, with Jun-hee’s infant daughter’s life hanging in the balance. The setting? A nightmarish multi-level “Sky Squid Game” arena that looks like a child’s playground drawn by M.C. Escher, towering pillars in circle, triangle, and square shapes, where each round someone must fall to their doom.

Gi-hun, worn down by loss and fury, plagued by guilt of the deaths he has caused, faces off against Myung-gi who’s gone full psycho-dad at this point. Myung-gi assumes Gi-hun is just another selfish player out for himself (projection much?), and he’s ready to murder his own baby girl if it means he can be the sole winner. What follows is a finale showdown that had me on the edge of my seat yelling at the screen.: Gi-hun ends up dangling for his life while Myung-gi teeters after a nasty scuffle.

And then, justice (or karma) strikes: Myung-gi loses his balance and plummets to his death. Good riddance. For a split second, it looks like Gi-hun has won again – the hero might walk out alive and save the child. But if you’ve been paying attention, you know Squid Game isn’t about happy endings. Instead, Gi-hun stands at the edge holding the infant, with one final choice to make (a choice that could have been avoided if they had just listened to the instructions but oh well). In a move that left me gasping, he sets the baby down safely… and turns to face the cameras (and by extension, those voyeuristic VIPs). Gi-hun’s last words are delivered not to any character, but almost directly to us, the audience: “We are not horses. We are humans. Humans are—” He stops mid-sentence, giving a look that’s equal parts defiance and despair, and then lets himself fall backwards off the pillar, sacrificing his life. I loved the callback to the horse’s line from Season 2, and the fact that he allows us to interpret what humans are is powerful.

Gi-hun’s death hits hard. This was the guy who survived all of Squid Game Season 1, who we rooted for through so much. Seeing him become a martyr for a cause – basically saying humanity’s dignity is worth more than survival in a broken system – was both satisfying and deeply sad. Lee Jung-jae’s performance in those final seconds sells it completely: a mix of righteous fury, sorrow, and strangely, peace. The Squid Game Season 3 finale wanted to leave a mark, and by killing Player 456, they went for the jugular. Gi-hun’s last stand ensured that the sole survivor of this final round is the one person who literally had no say in any of it – a baby girl, symbolizing innocence (or maybe the next generation inheriting this messed-up world?). If you’re Googling “Did Gi-hun die in Squid Game?” or “Squid Game 456 death explained,” now you know and it’s both devastating and fitting.

Squid Game Ending Explained: Red Hair, Morality and What It All Meant

So, what does the ending of Squid Game Season 3 really mean? Let’s try a Squid Game ending explained segment to the extent that this wild ride can be explained. The show’s final instalment doubles down on its core theme: the dehumanizing effects of unchecked capitalism and extreme wealth disparity. The VIPs faced zero consequences on-screen (they basically evacuate and likely go off to plan another depraved spectacle elsewhere), which is a bleak statement. The Front Man, who orchestrated carnage and even personally executed people, ends the series carrying a baby to safety. It’s almost ironic – the closest thing to kindness comes from the very man enforcing the cruelty, as he spares the infant and later even delivers her (with the prize money) to police officer Junho six months afterward. Does that redeem him? Not really. But it adds a layer of complexity: even the “big bad” has a sliver of humanity, or at least practicality.

In the aftermath, we see a few hopeful glimmers: Junho, the cop, gets the child and the prize money, hinting that maybe he’ll ensure the blood money is used for something good (or at least that the orphaned girl will be cared for). There’s also a poignant scene where the Front Man anonymously delivers Gi-hun’s bloodstained Squid Game jumpsuit and a share of remaining cash to Gi-hun’s own daughter in Los Angeles. It’s a wordless moment loaded with meaning – perhaps a final apology or acknowledgement that Gi-hun was right about their shared humanity.

And what about Gi-hun’s infamous red hair? Fans have obsessed over the mystery of the red hair since he impulsively dyed it at the end of Squid Game Season 1. Was it anger? A symbol of rebellion? A mid-life crisis with hair bleach? Squid Game Season 3 doesn’t explicitly revisit the dye job (Gi-hun’s hair is back to its normal colour by the time he’s in the game again, making the red era a short-lived phase). In a way, the lack of payoff for the red hair makes it an ongoing gag – even in the final season, we’re left chuckling and scratching our heads about it. One could say the red hair foreshadowed Gi-hun’s path: he went from mild-mannered everyman to enraged revolutionary. The red could signify his boiling rage at the system and his willingness to spill blood (including his own) to stop it. Or maybe the writers just wanted a cool visual and to get people talking – which certainly worked!

The final monologue and Gi-hun’s sacrifice beg the question of morality. Gi-hun proved that even in the most horrific circumstances, one can refuse to become a monster. His defiant plunge off the platform was a giant middle finger to the game runners: We are not horses. But it also leaves us in a moral quagmire. The games are presumably over (the island was literally going up in flames as the finale ended, the whole operation presumably collapsing). Yet, what changes in the real world? The rich puppet-masters escaped. The “winner,” a baby, has no idea any of this happened. One good man (Gi-hun) is dead, having made his point to an audience that may never truly listen. It’s a cynical take on the capitalist critique: maybe the system is so rigged that the only way to win is not to play – even if that means removing yourself entirely.

In fact, the ending already teases the American version of Squid Games, to be directed by David Fincher as the Front Man sees Cate Blanchett (yes, her for realsies) playing ddakji, with someone (why not use an American game though?) So, the reality is the game lives on for as long as we (and inherently the dark side of humanity) thrive.

However, here we are at the end of the trilogy. We laughed (sometimes hysterically, because what else can you do? He was a legend, Thanos!), we cried (R.I.P. 456, you were the heart of this nightmare), and we recoiled (seriously, a baby?!). Squid Game Season 3 delivered on its promise of a dramatic, shockingly brutal finale, all while keeping a sly wink of satire.

In the end, I’m left pondering the big questions the series raised. Was Squid Game ultimately a condemnation of our own society’s entertainment tastes and economic structures? Probably. Did the final season resolve all its plot threads neatly? Not at all – but that’s life. The rich and powerful often slither away, consequences be damned, while the “little people” pay the price. Gi-hun’s journey ended in noble self-sacrifice, but the world that created the Squid Game… well, it’s still out there. Maybe that’s the final dark joke: after all the blood spilled and moral lessons, the system stays intact beyond the island, and we, the viewers, were complicit in watching it for entertainment.

To watch this season / series, Netflix is your answer. Amazing journey with the cast and crew of this show! While this season was uneven, there is a reason this show is Number 1 on Netflix across the globe so it’s worth watching once!

If you still are looking for something to watch check out this great heartwarming movie, some funny shows or maybe even another dark TV show.

This blog post is part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’
hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla.