But I still didn’t think I would end up watching it.It all began when I was hosting Afternoons on Sydney’s 2GB and Brisbane’s 4BC networks and our regular film reviewer mentioned that the top show on Netflix was an obscure Seoul-based production called Squid Game.Now I know my AM radio afternoon audience very well, and I know they are many things, but I was pretty sure that televisual K-pop aficionados was not one of those things.And, as usual, I was wrong.I asked out loud if I was the only person who hadn’t heard of Squid Game and if anyone out there had seen it. I expected radio silence but the board lit up like Alice Springs on cracker night.It turned out I really was the only person who hadn’t heard of it and so when I got home my wife insisted that we watch it. I insisted that I wouldn’t and she insisted that I needed to in order to write this column about it, which I would inevitably end up doing.And so I did.My first thought was there have been plenty of shows about humans killing humans for sport — from the Roman Colosseum to the Hunger Games — so why should Squid Game stand out? Isn’t it just another remake of The Running Man?But then I realised that it’s not really a show about death, even though the first episode alone had a body count that rivalled the Korean War itself.In fact, it’s a show about addiction. SPOILER ALERT: The difference between Squid Game and the others is that the doomed contestants actually choose to be there — well, most of them — because they are hooked on the risk and reward.And that’s what makes Squid Game incredibly addictive itself: Unlike the Hunger Games this show has some actual hunger in it.Joe Hildebrand is on 2GB Nights with John Stanley on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 8pm
Source: Sun Herald
