Forget K-Pop, the latest Korean craze to grab hold of the world is a TV show called Squid Game — which you’ve probably all watched already. The Netflix survival drama series was created by South Korean film director, screenwriter and producer Hwang Dong-hyuk.
If you don’t know what the fuss is about, the premise behind Netflix’s most-watched show of all time is that 456 players — all heavily indebted, pretty much like you and me — have the opportunity to win about R567m for playing a variety of children’s games.
I can see you practising your hopscotch skills and polishing your rollerskate moves. I come from a generation where we used to play what’s now referred to as “indigenous games”, such as Diketo — where you throw one pebble into the air and simultaneously remove and place back the correct number of remaining pebbles into a circle. (To think some of my more privileged friends paid occupational therapists thousands to fix their “hand-eye co-ordination”.)
As with any game, there must be a winner and losers. We are all used to losers having one eyebrow shaved off or, at the most, having to chug a litre of really vile beer or something like that. On Squid Game, 455 losers take a bullet to the head. What the heck has come over us, as global citizens? This makes the outlawed sport of Dodgeball look like child’s play!
As if death isn’t enough, Squid Game is so popular that it inspired an entire cryptocurrency, called Squid. This play-to-earn currency soared by thousands of percent to record levels, as the dodgy developers cashed out early and disappeared with investors’ loot.
To put it in Squid Game terms, the rest of the investors took a figurative financial bullet to the head, as the cryptocurrency was revealed as a scam, because most investors couldn’t resell or redeem their tokens for real money.
How are people surprised by this rug-pull of a move? Did investors forget that Squid Game is all about the competition being eliminated, in order for one person to take all the winnings?
I must admit that at first, I thought the show was all about violence, raw emotions and gory scenes. All of this is true, but it also has artistic offerings. For instance, if you peel away the many layers, you will see that it tells the story of how desperate we all can be to make money.
The show was born out of the creator’s own real-life desperation — he was forced to take loan after loan, just to survive, due to the multiple lockdowns in South Korea.
SA’s classist tendencies are driving the impoverished majority to commit heinous crimes worthy of becoming series of their own
The tale is so popular that social media is overflowing with the funniest memes and one-liners, all inspired by the dystopian script. Spoofs have magically appeared on the internet making fun of lying politicians and shady businesspeople.
I reckon the perfect South African spoof would feature the so-called “insurance killer” Rosemary Ndlovu. She is the woman who was found guilty on six counts of murder, attempted murder, defeating the ends of justice and fraud. Basically, she is Squid Game in real life.
The plot would thicken, as the story would reveal how this former police officer killed six of her relatives for money. Ndlovu was caught on camera by an alleged hitman, plotting to kill her sister and her kids, as well as her own mother. Perhaps what would not make sense is that the prize money would only be R1.5m.
Imagine if your own life was turned into a version of Squid Game, and we got to watch what you did when you were cash-strapped? Would we see you lining up for payday loans at your local mashonisa (loan shark)? Would we see you bombing an ATM, as we’re about to witness as the festive season rolls into town? Or would we see you get involved in illegal activities to make ends meet for one more day?
If you look closely, shows like Squid Game are actually about inequality: the haves and the have-nots.
Think back to the looting in KwaZulu-Natal and Gauteng a few months ago and you’ll spot similarities. Besides the guy in a Merc — who aptly looted a Woolies — most of the looters were poor, debt-stricken individuals who literally had nothing to lose. If you had to offer them R567m, what would they be willing to do?
SA’s classist tendencies are driving the impoverished majority to commit heinous crimes worthy of becoming series of their own.
The city of Tshwane is going through a string of vigilante murders, attributed to a character in Mamelodi dubbed John Wick. He is on a killing spree, taking out known gang members who have been terrorising the community for ages. Community members are reportedly spurring him on to continue the cleansing.
Yes, Squid Game is gruesome and downright creepy, but when you take another look, it is probably much better than some of the real-life horrors South Africans have to face on a daily basis.
