LONDON: The success of “Squid Game” in 2021 made a second season an inevitability, rather than a mere possibility proffered by a hopeful epilogue scene. But because this smash-hit show came out of South Korea, there was also an optimistic air to its steadily approaching release — could this addictively bleak dystopian thriller sidestep a lot of the Hollywood pitfalls and deliver a second season that was at least the equal of the first? 

Although it’s a sidestep of its own, the answer is… we’re not sure yet. And that’s because, although it’s billed as season two, these seven new episodes were shot back-to-back with season three (coming in 2025 and confirmed to be the last). So what you’re essentially getting here is the setup for the big finale still to come. That perhaps explains why, though the first season dropped viewers into the murderous titular competition pretty quickly, the actual ‘game’ of the second season of “Squid Game” doesn’t start until midway through the third episode. Before that, we’re reintroduced to main protagonist Seong Gi-hun (Lee Jung-Jae, still far and away the best thing about the show). Having won the first season’s brutal series of children’s games (for which the losers’ penalty is death), Gi-hun is spending his reward money trying to bring down the organizers of the competition, teaming up with season one detective Hwang Jun-ho (Wi Ha-joon) in an attempt to topple the shady cartel that is pressganging cash-strapped Koreans into murdering each other for money. When his plan to catch the game’s Front Man fails, he instead joins the latest intake, intent on helping the contestants escape with their lives. 

It’s an odd choice to spend so long building up to the competition — and even dallying on whether it can be proved it even exists — when that’s what viewers are here for. Once the games get going, “Squid Game” is as breathless and shocking as ever, and with a new cast of characters, there are fresh backstories to mine and some pretty pointed social commentary on greed, capitalism and social care (Korean commentators have suggested that the subtitles miss a few of the nuances of the script, which may be why some of the satire seems a little on the nose). Perhaps acknowledging what audiences will remember, there’s also a few decent twists that deserve to remain a surprise.  

But while season two of “Squid Game” is still great television, there’s no small amount of bloat here — and a sense of treading water for the final round still to come.  

DUBAI: It’s a high bar, but “Beast Games” might be the most cynical TV show ever produced. Amazon — owned by Jeff Bezos; estimated net worth $251 billion — throws a reported $100 million at 26-year-old social-media behemoth Jimmy Donaldson (aka MrBeast; estimated net worth $500 million) so he can make a reality competition show that borrows heavily from a hugely successful fictional South Korean show and gives the “largest ever cast” (1,000 participants) the opportunity to win $5 million (the “largest ever single prize”) and a host of other ‘smaller’ (i.e. still huge) prizes along the way.

Why? Probably not because the studio execs — or Bezos himself — are huge MrBeast fans. But think of all the data to be mined when the latter’s 340 million YouTube subscribers sign up to Amazon Prime — that’s the kind of payoff that makes it worthwhile (and $100 million for Amazon is kind of like a regular person’s $5). 

And what do the audience get in return for surrendering their personal info to the rapacious advertiser and retailer? Basically “Squid Game” without any deaths, but with much of that show’s energy and aesthetics. Donaldson and his crew of long-time friends/assistants have built careers out of giving away huge amounts of money to people for completing challenges (or snatching it from them if they fail), and now they’re doing it with higher production values.

The tasks (at least in the first three episodes) are straightforward, childish even (catch a ball; throw a ball into a receptacle…), but the mind games are intense — often, competitors must sacrifice themselves so others can continue. Those that choose to do so look absolutely bereft. If you’re wondering whether anyone involved in “Beast Games” picked up on the fact that “Squid Game” was intended to satirize the spiritual vacuum of late-stage capitalism via the portrayal of the gleeful exploitation of desperate, cash-strapped people for entertainment, we’re guessing the answer’s no.

Still, as a TV show, “Beast Games” is compelling in its way — think “Ultimate Fail” videos crossed with “The Traitors.” It’s slickly packaged and fast-moving (within the first half-hour, half of the contestants are culled), like MrBeast’s YouTube content. The psychology is fascinating — the weird notion so many of the contestants have that they’re “destined” to win a game of mostly chance and not much skill, or that, somehow, “needing” it enough will see them through; or the way that, within a matter of hours, herd mentality and peer pressure make people forget that they’re competing to try and secure life-changing money for their loved ones rather than impress a group of almost-strangers to whom they owe nothing.  

“Beast Games” keeps you engaged, then, but it doesn’t keep you invested. That’s partly because Donaldson and co., who come across as affable and a bit goofy online, haven’t made the jump to “traditional” media comfortably. Particularly Donaldson, who, as a gameshow host, lacks warmth and charisma and spends much of his time shouting dystopian catchphrases (“Everyone has a price!” or, gazing down on the contestants from the wall of Beast City, “They look like ants!”).

It will be an enormous success.