A recognizable TV conversation is emerging online at the moment, one that I suspect will feel strikingly similar to you if you recall how *Game of Thrones* faltered in its eighth and concluding season. Essentially, it’s now *Squid Game’s* moment.
Netflix’s Korean powerhouse, once a worldwide sensation and creative spark, just released its third and final season over the weekend — a season, to clarify, that nobody really wished for, and one that seems to leave many viewers regretting their decision to watch.
*Squid Game* Season 3 is, without a doubt, currently the #1 show in the US on the streaming service. However, that top position, impressive as it may appear, doesn’t convey the entire picture of the show’s situation. According to data from Samba TV, for instance, 1.6 million US households tuned in for the premiere in the first three days. That’s a significant figure — yet it still represents a 17% decline from the Season 2 launch. Some of this may be due to timing: Season 2 premiered the day after Christmas, when many people are at home thanks to holiday time off from work.
That being said, it’s somewhat more telling how drastically *Squid Game* has fallen in audience perception. The Rotten Tomatoes data certainly narrates a tale of reducing returns:
– Season 1: 95% critics’ score / 84% audience score
– Season 2: 83% critics’ score / 63% audience score
– Season 3: 80% critics’ score / 50% audience score
In terms of audience response, that’s a nosedive. Consequently, the online feedback from fans has been rather harsh. “This ending was terrible and felt like a cash grab for an American *Squid Game*,” one viewer commented on X. Another added: “There was no reason to divide this into a third series … actually, there’s no reason to create another series after the first.” Many voiced similar concerns — that Season 3 seemed overstuffed, poorly crafted, and motivated more by corporate interests than artistic vision.
Here’s the reality: *Squid Game* never required a second season, let alone a third. It’s ironic to me that a series about the perils of ruthless capitalism has effectively … well, to be precise, it has *definitely* fallen victim to that very capitalism the show criticized in Season 1. *Squid Game’s* final season was rife with contrived scenarios and puzzling character decisions that, in my view, caused the entire emotional framework of the show to crumble (“456 went through all that just to not speak to his daughter again?” one Rotten Tomatoes audience reviewer questioned. “Seriously?”).
For Netflix, the statistics may validate the choice. For the rest of us, this serves as another reminder that the television landscape wasn’t shaped by individuals who understand how to leave well enough alone. Similarly, streaming television is not an arena where nuance or knowing when to quit ever seems to take precedence. If you choose to take the plunge and watch Season 3, don’t be taken aback if, when it concludes, you find yourself yearning for the games to have wrapped up long ago.
