WARNING: The following contains spoilers for Squid Game, now streaming on Netflix.
There has never been a success like Squid Game before, but, then again, there was never a success like Parasite before the 2019 South Korean film took Best Picture at the Academy Awards. These stories, which are so intricately tied to the relatively small nation of South Korea, prove to have international appeal, showing that global audiences are opening up to such stories more and more.
It would have been hard to predict that Squid Game would have such wide appeal, but in retrospect, it makes complete sense. The Netflix series has several qualities that make it the perfect story for a global audience, and future projects looking to take advantage of the same success would do well to take notes.
On an initial watch, there are plenty of elements about Squid Game that tie so intimately into South Korean culture that the story could have been too idiosyncratic or unfamiliar to wider audiences. While popular culture is inundated with a wide range of American lifestyles, Squid Game starts in a slice of South Korean life rarely seen. Seong Gi-hun's life at home with his mother, gambling his days away, is far from a typical story.
The titular Squid Game's reliance on South Korean currency and rulesets to games most international audiences do not know could easily have alienated audiences outside of the country. But the uniqueness, idiosyncrasy and insight into a different world are exactly what broad audiences want. The trick is to deliver those qualities by familiar and easily digestible means, and to that end, Squid Game is a master class in storytelling. A slight shift in perspective on the show reveals just how familiar many of the tropes and genres it utilizes are. Deathmatches like in Battle Royale or The Hunger Games create a narrative rhythm many audiences are familiar with as the cast of characters find themselves participating in a desperate game of life and death that rewards brutality and cleverness but also reveals the power of kindness and altruism by its end.
The characters follow much the same reason, managing to seem familiar without falling into the pitfalls of a cliché. Seong as a protagonist wins the audience's affection with his concern toward Player 1 and his downtrodden nature but fuses those familiar traits with those of the degenerate gambler seen in countless movies before. Other characters start as familiar types, such as the tough-as-nails Kang Sae-byeok or the desperate single mother Han Mi-nyeo, but the more fans find out about them the more dimension and individuality they gain throughout the story.
In terms of navigating the elements of the story familiar to South Koreans to make them globally palatable, Squid Game trusts its performances and cinematography to carry the drama over burdensome exposition. All of the games are simple, and whatever rules are necessary to know are either outlined easily or communicated through sheer tension. Similarly, a viewer does not need to know the conversion rate of a South Korean won to know just how much is at stake when characters gawk at the promise of a fat profit.
The last quality worth noting about Squid Game's global appeal is the first thing most audiences would notice: the esthetic. Everything about the island's design, interiors and costuming create an eerie yet fanciful environment that intrigues anyone into wanting to explore it further. Virtually every element of the show is cultivated to make the unfamiliar feel just familiar enough that viewers only ever want to explore it further.
The broadening of the global palette for unique television and movies will only ever encourage further creativity and imagination in storytelling. Doing too much at once can scare audiences off, but Squid Game proves that just the right amount creates a perfect recipe for success.
To see how Squid Game succeeds, the show is streaming now on Netflix.