A TV Competition / Reality Show

When I first heard about Squid Game: The Challenge, I rolled my eyes harder than the robotic Young-hee statue during the Red Light, Green Light game, scanning for contestants about to be eliminated. A game show based on a critique of the wealthy exploiting the poor seemed destined to completely miss the point. I ignored the show for over a year, figuring that without the life-and-death stakes or contestants coming from desperate situations, the whole vibe would be off. It felt like trying to pull this off would be just as exploitative as the fictional Squid Games themselves. But when I rewatched the first season of Squid Game, I finally decided to give it a shot. At first, my impressions were pretty much what I expected. Then, a few episodes in, something clicked. Against all odds, Squid Game: The Challenge turned into a compelling reality show – something I hadn’t experienced since Survivor Season 2, back when I was vaguely into these kinds of shows (and I was very young!).

Squid Game: The Challenge took the immense popularity of its fictional counterpart and brought it into the real world with a massive production effort. The producers brought in 456 contestants to compete for a staggering $4.56 million prize, purportedly the largest in reality TV history up to that point, only beaten by the recent Beast Games, a critically-panned Amazon program often cited as a “rip-off” of Squid Game. I will not be watching that as I am not a fan of YouTube “star” stuff, so I’ll take their word for it. Squid Game: The Challenge takes a few creative liberties to keep things fresh, adding new twists and games while staying true to the original’s themes.

In the first episode, the first game brought 456 contestants into a near-perfect replica of the Red Light, Green Light set from the original show. According to Google, the show was filmed in the UK, so hat’s off to the production team nailing the set design. In the original Squid Game, this was the moment where players realized the stakes were life and death. Obviously, Netflix didn’t go that far to commit mass murder, but their way of mirroring eliminations was interesting. Each contestant wore a pack rigged with what seemed like a squib full of black ink. When eliminated, like by moving after the robot called “red light”, the pack would go off, making it look like they’d been shot. Contestants also threw themselves to the ground, adding to the effect. It wasn’t the same as the raw terror from the original, but the attention to detail helped sell the scene.

What I didn’t like about the first event was that almost everyone had obviously seen the TV show, so they knew exactly what to expect and had no real fear. Most contestants were laughing, shouting, and treating the whole thing as a joke rather than taking it seriously. Add in the standard reality show cutaways, a trope that’s been overdone since The Real World, and it felt more like a generic competition show (Like maybe Wipeout or Ninja Warrior) than something inspired by Squid Game. When the contestants entered the dormitory, instead of the dread and despair from the original series, everyone was excited and gawking at the set like tourists. The dormitory, which should have felt oppressive and ominous, lost all its edge. While the first episode managed to mimic the gist of the TV show’s Red Light, Green Light game, the overall tone felt sillier than a tense, psychological drama.

Then, as if the producers realized this wasn’t going to work at face value, made some smart adjustments. They added smaller “games” that happened randomly in the dorms, often involving secret eliminations. These moments helped capture the spirit of the original series’ “Lights Out” game, where paranoia and distrust began to fracture alliances. The first of these was subtle – two contestants were pulled aside for chores, only to be given the power to eliminate someone. Over time, the secrecy around these challenges faded, and the stakes rose, sometimes eliminating several people at once in the open. The cheerful camaraderie didn’t last long, and before too long, it became impossible to trust anyone.

Another way the producers dealt with contestants’ prior knowledge of the show was by tweaking the rules of the games. Take the Dalgona game, for instance: anyone who had seen the series would know better than to pick the umbrella-shaped honeycomb cookie, and everyone would naturally flock to the triangle or circle. To avoid this, the gamekeepers forced all the contestants into four lines and made the four people at the front decide who would take each shape. Predictably, no one wanted to budge on the “easy” options, leading to a heated argument. Eight contestants were eliminated before the game even began, unable to come to an agreement.

It wasn’t until one unlucky man tried to strike a deal and reluctantly took the umbrella shape that the game could start. This moment captured the essence of human nature perfectly: the instinct for self-preservation overpowered any notion of fairness or cooperation. Watching this unfold, I realized the producers had successfully adapted the spirit of Squid Game to a reality competition setting. This was the moment the show “clicked” for me.

Here’s the revised list of games played in Squid Game: The Challenge:

1. Red Light, Green Light – Players raced to a finish line, stopping when the doll turned around. Movement during “Red Light” led to elimination, just like in the original Squid Game.
2. Dalgona Candy – Contestants had to carve a shape out of fragile candy using only a needle without breaking it.
3. Phone Test – A phone was placed in the dorm. Initially, contestants were baited with a call offering a fast-food meal. In a later twist, answering another call required convincing another player to pick up the phone, risking elimination.
4. Warships – A live-action version of the board game Battleship. Contestants guessed the locations of opposing ships on a grid. When a ship was hit, its occupants were eliminated.
5. Vote Test – Players openly voted to eliminate someone, with the results visible, forcing tough social dynamics.
6. Jack-in-the-Box – Five volunteers received jack-in-the-boxes containing tasks, some resulting in the elimination of other players.
7. Marbles – Contestants paired up and used wits and strategy to win marbles from their partner, reminiscent of the emotionally charged game from the TV series.
8. Allegiances – Players elected a captain, who, alongside 19 others, advanced to the next round. They then chose pairs, leaving 11 players out for the “Allegiance Test.”
9. Glass Stepping Stones – Contestants crossed a bridge made of glass panels, some sturdy and others fragile, guessing which to step on without falling.
10. Die Test – Players rolled dice, nominating themselves or others. Rolling a “6” eliminated the nominated person.
11. Circle of Trust – A twist on Heads Up, Seven Up. Blindfolded contestants sat in a circle with a gift box on a central podium. A tapped player secretly placed the box on another’s desk, creating suspicion and strategy.
12. The Last Meal / The Button – After a final meal, the remaining contestants played a button-pressing game with a one-in-three chance of elimination.
13. Final Game – An elaborate squid-themed version of Rock, Paper, Scissors. The winner used keys to unlock a box containing the grand prize.

Some of the featured contestants became the “anchors” of the narrative. However, at various points throughout the show, many smaller players were spotlighted, providing a well-rounded view of the 456 contestants. Among the most noteworthy were TJ, a highly motivational figure who led his team to victory in the Warship game without losing a single member; the Gganbu Gang, a ragtag group of fun-loving guys with a notably eclectic roster, including Rick, a 70-year-old beekeeper; Mai, the ultimate underdog who used her military skills to step out of the background and become a leader later in the game; and LeAnn and Trey, a mother-and-son duo whose strong bond helped them thrive, even though it made them a target.

Then, there were the closest things to villains the show had. Lorenzo, a free-spirited guy who seemed to take pleasure in irritating others, stole extra food, and generally annoyed many people. There were also Tim, who lost his cool and ended up looking like a jerk at the last moment; Dash, who tried to stir up trouble behind people’s backs; and Dylan, who threw a tantrum in a game, leading to both him and his opponent being eliminated. While no one was truly evil, it’s not like a sadistic mob boss was in there, some of these contestants were particularly aggravating to watch as a viewer. Reality shows typically feature one detestable person, but this show had several.

In closing, Squid Game: The Challenge felt like any other Netflix competition reality show in many ways, just on a much grander scale. Honestly, if it weren’t branded with the Squid Game theme, I probably wouldn’t have given it a second glance – but here we are. I’m no expert on this type of media, but I’ll admit it entertained me. Sure, like most reality shows, some elements felt staged. Contestants were clearly coached to share personal sob stories that mirrored characters from the original Korean series, and the production had its fair share of controversies (as massive shows like this often do). But putting all that aside, they managed to hook someone who typically avoids reality shows, so they must have done something right. Now I’ll be waiting for a second season, possibly after Squid Game season three drops!