The following contains major spoilers for the Squid Game season 3 ending.
The Squid Game season 3 finale absolutely crushed me. If you've seen it, you'll know why: Player 456 is dead, the Front Man escaped without speaking a single word to his brother, the VIPs are in the clear, and the games, while over in Korea, are continuing worldwide.
It's an incredibly dark ending, and one that I'm sure is going to be seriously controversial (an early peek at the Squid Game subreddit shows dozens of disappointed fans venting their frustrations). But, once I'd stopped crying, I realized this was really the only ending the show could – and should – have.
Happily ever after
I should say that, thanks to screener access, I watched Squid Game season 3 fairly differently from the way fans around the world are currently devouring it. Episodes 1-5 arrived together, and I quickly inhaled them – then had an agonizing three-week wait for the finale.
In that time, I thought about what might happen after episode 5's harrowing cliffhanger over and over. I hate to say it, but I ultimately convinced myself that, well, everything would be fine. Gi-hun would find a way to survive, as he always does. Baby 222 would escape unscathed (Myung-gi would, of course, make a heroic sacrifice, overcome with guilt for his actions all season). Detective Jun-ho was just around the corner, too. Happy ending, here we come!
You can imagine my shock when I finally got my hands on the finale and hit play. It became very apparent, very quickly that I'd been hopelessly naive. The only excuse I have is wishful thinking. "People like a happy ending," creator Hwang Dong-hyuk told The Guardian. "I'm like that too. But some stories, by nature, can't have one. If you try to force one, the essence is compromised. If a story is holding up a mirror to something, then it's not always a happy ending. Squid Game is no exception."
He is, of course, absolutely right, and, as the episode settled in my mind, I started to appreciate just how bold the ending actually is – as well as the surprisingly hopeful message it imparts.
A losing game
Squid Game is overwhelmingly popular, and people have been impatiently waiting for the finale since the season 2 ending left us all hanging. I'm sure many, like myself, will have their preferred endings, which have almost nothing in common with what actually happens. That's what makes this ending so completely fearless: I'm certain the bleakness of it all will be incredibly controversial.
What makes it even bolder is that there easily could've been a Hollywood-style conclusion for this story, one that would've been universally popular. I wonder if Hwang was ever tempted by it. It's one where Jun-ho reaches the island in time to save Gi-hun and the baby, and together they win over the Front Man and bring him back to the light side. Then, the VIPs are brought to justice with a helping of splashy action scenes, the horrors of the global games are exposed, and Gi-hun finally gets on that damn plane to see his daughter in LA (who naturally would be overjoyed to see him again).
But that wouldn't have been true to the story Hwang has been telling us since 2021. Squid Game has always been outspoken about reflecting our own society, and those kinds of perfect happy endings are few and far between in reality. In real life, sometimes the bad guys are stronger, crueller, and smarter, and so they win.
Humans are…
This is devastating realism, sure. But the more I thought about it, the more I came to realize that, hidden beneath all that brutality, there was actually something deeply hopeful about the finale, which makes it even more of a fitting, bittersweet conclusion.
Looking at the show as a metaphor for our own lives, it was obvious from the beginning that Gi-hun couldn't end the games for good. You can't save the world alone, after all.
But still, Gi-hun single-handedly spares Baby 222 a miserable fate. He succeeds in his mission to end the Korean games by helping to lead Jun-ho to the island, spurring its self-destruct protocol. He didn't give up on the search for Sae-byeok's mother, which means she can finally reunite with her son. And, because he sacrifices himself for Baby 222, Guard 011 lowers her own gun, and she is able to potentially reunite with her own daughter.
Gi-hun even, in a way, manages to win over the Front Man himself – just a little. Just enough for him to save Baby 222 after witnessing Gi-hun's sacrifice, which proves what 456 told him in the limo back in season 2: "I'll show you that the world doesn't always go the way you want it to." Gi-hun and the selfless choice he makes is the ultimate proof that there is hope for humanity. It clearly has enough of an effect on the cold-hearted Front Man to send him all the way to LA to give Gi-hun's daughter the rest of his fortune, too.
Player 456 didn't save the world, no. But he did consistently do the good things that were within his power, which changed the lives of those around him. You don't have to be a billionaire or make any kind of dramatic sacrifice to do that in your own everyday existence.
It would be easy to watch the Squid Game finale and think there's no hope for any of us, because the forces that control the world are so wildly beyond our reach, and we exist in a system that seems designed to keep us divided.
But when Gi-hun looks into the camera in his final moments, he's not just speaking to the VIPs, he's talking to us, too, reminding us that we're not horses stuck in a desperate race. We're human beings with our own choices.
"Humans are…" he says, before he falls to his death. Humans are what? Gi-hun's answer is obvious, beautifully expressed through his final act. But what about ours? Well, that's up to us to decide.
Squid Game season 3 is streaming on Netflix now, and you can check out our full verdict in our Squid Game season 3 review. For even more, check out our guides to the Squid Game season 3 surprise cameo and if Squid Game season 3 sets up a spin-off.
You can also fill out your watchlist with our roundup of the best Netflix shows and the most exciting upcoming TV shows.
