Warning: This article contains spoilers for Netflix’s latest hit show, ‘Squid Game’.

Squid Game is a South Korean survival drama which primarily follows the downtrodden life of Gi-hun Seong, played by Lee Jung-jae. Struggling to have a proper life with his young daughter due to financial debts and a gambling addiction, he discovers a secret scheme in which many participate to play children’s games for an enormous cash prize in the billions. All seems simple in the beginning until it becomes frighteningly clear that all 456 players have unknowingly betted their lives to become the last man standing.

Now, a plot consisting of a large group of people getting tricked into travelling to a faraway location and being forcibly entered into a game of life or death is nothing new. Battle Royale (2000) and The Hunger Games (2012) are the most famous examples in recent media. It’s an intriguing and engaging plot spectacle, which can be considered a long-running commentary on consumerism of entertainment, and how we take pleasure in watching the suffering of others (a discussion for another day). The general idea is that we’re given a display of desperation from humans who have no real power in a system they’ve been forced into, and we’re indirectly asked about the human condition and survivalist instincts over morality.

But what Squid Game does in comparison to all death-game media before it is that it explores manipulation and illusion of choice; the generalisation that the financially troubled ended up as such due to a spiral of poor decisions throughout their lifetime, while living in a system where the average household debt has risen to 104% within the last current year. They explore the notion, since the very character we’re supposed to root for is a gambling addict who lives off the back of his elderly mother. Other characters have stolen money or committed fraud to end up in great debt, but for many others it’s a lot more complicated than that, as we later discover.

In the show, the game participants are told they can leave any time they want if a majority agrees—that they’re not forced to stay, that they came to a death arena of their own accord, etc. And although the characters aren’t forced to play, they’re being manipulated into it. It’s manipulative because the wealthy masterminds know the players have no other opportunities or aspirations waiting for them in the outside world. There’s no easy way to turn your life around when money is already such a heavy burden to bear.

For nine episodes, the series manages to pace itself well. There isn’t a moment or prop that feels needless, as everything exists to run the narratively smoothly onward. Plenty of time is given to flesh-out each main character—all of which are themselves a different mini-commentary on the disconnects from morality, white-collar crimes from the educated and well-off, unaffordable health care, struggling to work in a strange country as a foreigner, the downward spiral and constant pileup of poor life decisions, and the continued struggles of escaping from a dictatorship nation.

There wasn’t a single poor performance among the largely Korean cast, which is why it’s highly recommended to watch in the original language with subtitles. But for those who struggle with fast-paced reading, an English dub is available if you can get past awkward inflections and minimal lip-syncing. On the flip side, the acting of the VIP guests onward from episode seven is arguably very awkward and distressing to listen to—they all speak fluent English, most with American accents. If you’re used to hearing terrific acting in the average Hollywood blockbuster, hearing it done poorly to a cartoonish degree will make you cringe like your heels are touching the back of your head, guaranteed.

In short, if you enjoyed the eccentricity of Takeshi’s Castle or Total Wipeout growing up, there ought to be something so morbid within you that you would thoroughly enjoy this show. No judgements: it’s an excellent, bingeable watch even if you’ve never been exposed to much foreign media before. People who shirk back at the idea of reading subtitles will still probably love every minute of Squid Game and all it has to say. Even if you’re not in it for a lengthy commentary, your heartstrings will likely be plucked, one way or another.

Squid Game: How to Make a Survival Thriller Tactfully Emotional