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    For South Koreans,‘Squid Game’ Was More Than Just Entertainment

    The Netflix hit has left a lasting legacy as a major cultural export, but also one that exposed some unsettling aspects of Korean society.Contains spoilers for Season 3 of “Squid Game.”On Friday, fans around the world tuned in for the third and last season of the juggernaut Netflix series “Squid Game.”Since 2021, they’ve watched as hundreds of contestants played deadly versions of children’s games in an attempt to win a cash prize of 45.6 billion won, around $33 million.At the grisly end of Season 3’s six episodes, its beloved protagonist Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae), was dead, and its villains were very much alive and thriving.For some viewers in South Korea, where the show is set, that fell short of delivering the justice they were hoping for.After eagerly waiting half a year since the cliffhanger ending of Season 2, Kim Young Eun, a 24-year-old university student in Seoul, watched the entire season with her boyfriend at a comic book cafe, just hours after its release on Friday night.The Piggy Bank, where prize money is deposited each time a player dies on the show, was part of the fan event in Seoul on Saturday. Jun Michael Park for The New York TimesWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    ‘Squid Game’ Season 3 Review: Game Over

    It’s time for Netflix’s global phenomenon to give up its final answers, if there are any.Contains spoilers for Season 2 of “Squid Game.”“Squid Game” is back for what is said to be its final round, with a six-episode third season on Netflix. If only all beneficiaries of free-floating, pandemic-boosted nihilism would fade away as quickly.The South Korean drama’s creator, writer and director, Hwang Dong-hyuk, had a couple of very profitable insights: that what was missing from “Survivor”-style competition shows was machine guns; and that greatly increasing the pool of contestants — the show’s dour hero, Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae), is No. 456 — would increase the amount of blood that could be shed while simultaneously giving most of the deaths an anesthetizing, video-game irrelevance.He then gave his package an Instagram-friendly visual wrapping of bright colors, gargantuan toylike structures and massed minimalist costumes, and replaced plot with a series of elaborate variations on children’s games. No candy was ever designed and marketed with greater effectiveness.But the series wasn’t strictly a consumer product, and it wasn’t a reality show. As a work of fiction, it needed to do something to surprise us to merit a second or third season (they are really 2A and 2B). Most television shows may be formulaic to one degree or another, but it is harder not to notice when the formulas you are repeating are ones that you just created.The last batch of episodes picks up halfway through a set of the games in which debt-ridden proletarians are killed, or kill one another, as they compete for an ever-increasing pot of cash, all for the entertainment of anonymous, hyper-rich spectators. The previous winner Gi-hun, whose attempts to halt the spectacle and unmask its ringleader have failed miserably, is battered but alive. Sixty players remain for the final three games.The proximity to a resolution of Gi-hun’s fate gives this season a tension (artificial as it may be) that the show’s second installment, released in December, lacked. Otherwise, it is “Squid Game” business as usual.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    ‘Squid Game’ Review: Game Over

    It’s time for Netflix’s global phenomenon to give up its final answers, if there are any.Contains spoilers for Season 2 of “Squid Game.”“Squid Game” is back for what is said to be its final round, with a six-episode third season on Netflix. If only all beneficiaries of free-floating, pandemic-boosted nihilism would fade away as quickly.The South Korean drama’s creator, writer and director, Hwang Dong-hyuk, had a couple of very profitable insights: that what was missing from “Survivor”-style competition shows was machine guns; and that greatly increasing the pool of contestants — the show’s dour hero, Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae), is No. 456 — would increase the amount of blood that could be shed while simultaneously giving most of the deaths an anesthetizing, video-game irrelevance.He then gave his package an Instagram-friendly visual wrapping of bright colors, gargantuan toylike structures and massed minimalist costumes, and replaced plot with a series of elaborate variations on children’s games. No candy was ever designed and marketed with greater effectiveness.But the series wasn’t strictly a consumer product, and it wasn’t a reality show. As a work of fiction, it needed to do something to surprise us to merit a second or third season (they are really 2A and 2B). Most television shows may be formulaic to one degree or another, but it is harder not to notice when the formulas you are repeating are ones that you just created.The last batch of episodes picks up halfway through a set of the games in which debt-ridden proletarians are killed, or kill one another, as they compete for an ever-increasing pot of cash, all for the entertainment of anonymous, hyper-rich spectators. The previous winner Gi-hun, whose attempts to halt the spectacle and unmask its ringleader have failed miserably, is battered but alive. Sixty players remain for the final three games.The proximity to a resolution of Gi-hun’s fate gives this season a tension (artificial as it may be) that the show’s second installment, released in December, lacked. Otherwise, it is “Squid Game” business as usual.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    ‘Squid Game’ Is Back for Its Final Season. Here’s What to Remember

    Only six months have passed since the Season 2 premiere, but there was plenty to keep track of. Here’s a quick look at where things left off.When “Squid Game,” a dystopian drama from South Korea, debuted on Netflix in September 2021, few could have predicted its outsize success. It swiftly became the streamer’s most-watched show, snagged Emmy wins for its director and star and spawned a reality game series and countless Halloween costumes.And while fans had to wait three long years between Seasons 1 and 2, the third and final season — arriving on Friday in its entirety — comes just six months after viewers last checked in with the hapless contestants, who must compete for both cash and their lives. Filmed back to back, Season 3 picks up right where Season 2 left off — with the heroes’ would-be mutiny quashed and their futures precarious.For those with short memories, here’s a quick refresher on how we got here.It’s all fun and games until someone losesThe first season introduced the contest, in which down-on-their-luck contestants vie for riches on a remote, secret island by competing in children’s schoolyard games like “Red Light, Green Light” and “Tug of War.” The twist? Losers in each round are killed (typically, in a hail of gunfire), a wrinkle that is revealed only after the first game begins. Uber-rich spectators watch the proceedings for sport, and in a pointed commentary about the value of human life, each death adds to the overall pot awarded to the last person standing — as much as 45.6 billion South Korean won, or about $38 million.That winner, Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae), an affable gambler estranged from his young daughter, emerged from the arena with heavy pockets and an even heavier heart. In the final moments of Season 1, haunted by what he had seen and done, he abandoned his plans to reunite with his daughter, choosing instead to put a stop to the game.Forging alliances outside the game …Among the many things we learned in Season 2 about Front Man (Lee Byung-hun) was that he is Jun-ho’s brother.No Ju-han/NetflixAt the beginning of Season 2, Gi-hun had been searching for two years for evidence of the game and its elusive Front Man (the contest’s puppet master, played by Lee Byung-hun), which he hoped to present to the authorities. He eventually teamed with Jun-ho (Wi Ha-jun), the resourceful cop who infiltrated the game to look for his missing brother, only to be shot and plunge off a cliff into the sea by the Front Man at the end of Season 1. In a plot twist, the Front Man is Jun-ho’s brother, In-ho, but Jun-ho has not shared this information with Gi-hun or the police force he works for.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    The Real Winner of ‘Squid Game’ Is Hwang Dong-hyuk

    “Squid Game,” the candy-colored South Korean series about a deadly competition, premiered on Netflix in 2021 and almost immediately became an international sensation. Hwang Dong-hyuk, who wrote and directed the series, could hardly believe it.“Literally, I pinched myself,” he said, gripping the skin of his cheek. “It was very surreal to me.”Hwang was speaking — sometimes in English, sometimes through an interpreter — earlier this month in the breakfast room of a luxury hotel in midtown Manhattan. The series was conceived in far shabbier locations.In 2009, having earned a master’s in film at the University of Southern California, he found himself back in South Korea, broke and demoralized. Spending his days huddled in cafes, reading grisly comic books and sliding deeper into debt, he began to dream up a story about a competition, based on popular children’s games, in which players would either solve all their money woes or die. No one would finance that nascent feature until nearly a decade later, when Netflix came calling.In its first season, “Squid Game” became the streamer’s most popular series ever, spawning think pieces, spinoffs, memes, bobblehead dolls. You could buy a “Squid Game” tracksuit, emblazoned with 456, the player number of the show’s protagonist, Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae). You could participate in less lethal recreations of the games, with on-site snack bars and a gift shop. A capitalist satire had become a capitalist triumph.Lee Jung-jae as Gi-hun in the final season. “The sense of crisis that weighs heavily on people’s daily lives, it allows anyone to easily relate to Gi-hun,” Hwang said.No Ju-han/NetflixWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Love a TV Show? Now You Can Live It.

    Streamers and networks are creating live experiences to promote series like “Squid Game” and “Only Murders in the Building.” But do they amount to anything more than just marketing?On a sun-nuzzled morning in Los Angeles, 25 people filed into a narrow, windowless room. They were about to participate in “Squid Game: The Trials,” an interactive experience based on the popular, dystopian Netflix franchise.A South Korean series about an indebted man who enters a deadly tournament, “Squid Game” was a surprise hit for Netflix two years ago. In November, Netflix released a companion reality series in which 456 players competed, less lethally, for a $4.56 million prize. Now anyone with $39 — or $99 for a V.I.P. pass that includes parking and coat check — can play along in real-time. A ticket is an entree to a 70-minute roundelay of dire versions of children’s playground games, with Korean snacks, claw games and shopping to follow.The original “Squid Game, ” a savage anticapitalist satire, delights in blood sport. The reality version, though gentler, takes a dim view of human nature. But in the rooms of the interactive experience, housed on the former soundstage of “The Price Is Right,” the mood was cheerful, even giddy. “Squid Game” fans — dads and sons, friend groups, couples, a grandmother celebrating her birthday — thrilled to each callback and Easter egg. Many of them had come in tracksuit costume. Once the trials were complete (the grandmother had won, via light cheating), they happily browsed the snack stalls.Some players came to “Squid Game: The Trials” in tracksuit constumes.Jamie Lee Taete for The New York TimesThe event was held in the former home of “The Price Is Right,” but its games were much gorier.Jamie Lee Taete for The New York Times“Squid Game: The Trials” is the latest in a trend of immersive experiences designed to lever an imaginary world into our real one. Referred to as brand activations or brand experiences, these events transform television shows (and films and sometimes consumer products) into multidimensional happenings.“It’s moving and it’s organized and it’s becoming a lot more expected,” Fri Forjindam, whose company Mycotoo specializes in immersive design, said of the trend.This past year, in New York City alone, fans could snuggle on the couch during a “Friends” experience, wander through an opulent theater during an “Only Murders in the Building” experience, solve a murder at “Welcome to the Continental: The Hotel Bar Experience,” dance the night away at a ball out of “Bridgerton” or sip cocktails while ogling Carrie Bradshaw’s shoe closet. Really, the options are legion. (In 2017, the FX series “Legion” rated an experience, too.)“We are bringing a theme park to people,” Marian Lee, Netflix’s chief marketing officer, said. “We are going to where the fans are.”These participatory and walk-through experiences have been part of the media landscape for more than 20 years, but until recently they have been rare and exclusive, the province of events like Comic Con or the South by Southwest festival or some of the splashier premieres. An amalgam of theater, commerce, viral marketing and fan service, they were intended to publicize shows in ways more forceful and creative than a Sunset Boulevard billboard.“You don’t hear from people necessarily about billboards that they see,” said Barrie Gruner, Hulu’s executive vice president of marketing and publicity. “But these types of activations are what really help drive word of mouth.”In recent years, these experiences have multiplied, particularly for prestige shows. “The Walking Dead” has sponsored a zombie-ridden obstacle course. “Game of Thrones” has birthed an interactive studio tour. The pandemic accelerated the trend. Many viewers consumed unusual amounts of television during lockdown. When live events returned, marketing and publicity departments looked for innovative ways to engage those fans. Hulu debuted a “Nine Perfect Strangers” activation in 2021. The next year Netflix created elaborate experiences in multiple cities based on three of its most popular properties: “Bridgerton,” “Money Heist” and “Stranger Things.”“We’ve seen an acceleration, post-Covid, of people wanting to be out,” Lee said. “This is how fans are engaging.”Not every show or movie lends itself to an experience, but many do: Walking away from the “Squid Game” immersion, I stumbled across a lollipop-filled “Wonka” pop-up that had taken over part of a nearby shopping center.An experience based on the Netflix period dramedy “Bridgerton” was styled as a ball.NetflixAn amalgam of theater, commerce and viral marketing, the activations are designed to publicize shows and keep fans engaged.Federico Imperiale/NetflixThese activations offer titles another way to stand out, literally, amid a crowded mediascape. For series, specifically, they offer a way to retain fans between seasons.“A lot of shows can get hot for a season or two, but we’re really looking and interested in sustained success,” Gruner, from Hulu, said. “In order to do that, you need more than fans, you need advocates.”These brand extensions take different forms, which typically gesture toward older varieties of entertainment. Some resemble museum exhibits. Others, which can involve dozens of actors, resemble plays.“They’re not theater,” said Sarah Bay-Cheng, an academic who studies the intersections of theater and media. “But they are theatrical.” And now some of them are in fact theater, as in the case of “Stranger Things: The First Shadow,” a prequel that recently opened in London.Not every activation invites or demands absolute fidelity to its source material, though an experience risks disenchanting fans if it deviates too far. While streamers and networks typically outsource activations to external marketing farms, those firms tend to work closely with writers and producers to preserve the spirit of the work.“We’re all making sure that we’re coming to it from a place of authenticity,” said Forjindam, who has helped to design experiences for “Stranger Things,” “The Mandalorian” and “Westworld.” “And then from there, you break all the rules.”An “Only Murders in the Building” activation included props and costumes from the show.Mo DaoudGuests were invited to solve the mystery of the most recent season.Mo DaoudA recent “Only Murders in the Building” experience, held in September at Upper Manhattan’s United Palace theater, where the show had filmed, was a faithful, playful recreation of the show. Guests could wander onstage, backstage and through the lobby, surveying actual props and costumes from the show. Using special flashlights to illuminate clues, they could attempt to answer the most recent season’s whodunit just days before the finale aired.A week later and a few miles downtown, at “Welcome to the Continental: The Hotel Bar Experience,” fans would encounter all-new characters and an original mystery, inspired by the Peacock series “The Continental,” a prequel to the “John Wick” franchise. Inside the Beaver Building, which had lent its facade to the movies, ticket holders, who were encouraged to dress as assassins, were free to move from room to room, engaging actors at will. Or they could congregate at the bar and swallow some very strong cocktails.“We wanted guests to feel like they were the main character in their own show,” said Ollie Killick, whose company, Fever, designed the experience.But is the show really about them? Or are activations like these merely a means to a marketing end? If an experience delights fans, those fans, by documenting and posting, often in meticulous detail, become part of a show’s advertising campaign.An event to promote “The Continental,” a “John Wick” prequel, included an original mystery and cocktails.Bryan Bedder/Peacock“We do look at social buzz,” said Shannon Willett, the chief marketing officer at Peacock. “We want people to have a great time, have that great experience, post on social, talk about that experience to other people.” Though expensive to produce, such immersions will have a greater impact on fans and will likely lead to more social media impressions than a traditional billboard or print ad.Netflix’s Lee put the emphasis elsewhere. “For us, it’s about the fans,” she said. “We don’t approach it as advertising.” Netflix recently announced a plan to open destinations known as Netflix Houses, where fans can engage in rotating live experiences while also eating branded food and shopping for souvenirs.Though perhaps not conceived as an advertising ploy, a venue like this achieves some of what advertising intends, building brand identification and loyalty. And they may lack the intellectual and emotional nourishment that theatrical or museum experiences might offer.Last year, in Toronto, Bay-Cheng attended the “Bridgerton” ball. She was named the diamond of the season, which involved confetti, glitter and great fanfare. “It was just this amazing moment of totally unearned adoration,” she said.While she enjoyed the ball and understands these activations as reflecting the desire for a live experience, she worries that the form is inherently limiting, feeding fans more of what they already enjoy rather than challenging them with something new.There were true challenges at “Squid Game: The Trials.” (The marbles were nearly impossible.) And if the experience could not be reasonably mistaken for theater or art, it did provide moments of exhilaration, affection, collaboration and joy, which is more than most billboards can say.Had it felt like living inside the show? “No,” a woman said after the final challenge. “But it was fun.”Why would a person pay to immerse herself in a dystopia, albeit a fun dystopia? Mike Monello, whose company, Campfire NYC, designed the “Only Murders” experience, has one theory. If you love something, he believes, then you must want to share it, even if the thing you love, as in “Squid Game,” is a caustic drama with an alarming body count.“Opportunities like this offer people a chance to get together with your tribe and experience something unique,” Monello said. “We have the need to share in the things we love. And it’s a lot more fun to do it in person.” More

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    ‘Squid Game: The Challenge’: Hits, Misses and the Bizarre Ending

    On Wednesday, the winner of the Netflix competition reality show based on the blood-drenched drama was crowned. But did the spinoff deliver? Spoilers below.It all came down to rock, paper, scissors on Wednesday night’s finale of “Squid Game: The Challenge.” After many rounds of trying to deduce her opponent’s next move, Mai Whelan (Player 287), an immigration adjudicator, grandmother and Navy veteran from Virginia who came to the United States as an 8-year-old refugee from Vietnam, triumphed over Phill Cain (Player 451), a scuba instructor from Hawaii — and 454 other players.Her prize: a staggering $4.56 million. “Anything is possible,” she said after her win. “Even when you feel down and afraid, you have to pick yourself up, be a strong person and focus.”“The Challenge,” a reality competition show, is based on Netflix’s dystopian, blood-drenched South Korean blockbuster drama “Squid Game,” in which contestants play schoolyard games for the chance to win an exorbitant cash prize. On the original series, however, the hundreds who lose die gruesome deaths. On “The Challenge,” filmed on a set in England, no one died, of course; they only pretended to.And like on the drama, they made alliances, broke alliances, back stabbed, shot daggers with their eyes, and wept and wept. They also played a few games from the original, including the glass bridge challenge (no, the players didn’t free fall), the marbles face-off and the dalgona candy game (which, in real life, involved copious saliva).On Wednesday, Netflix announced that the highly popular show was renewed for second season; Season 2 of the drama is also in the works. Also on Wednesday, a Netflix live fan experience, Squid Game: The Trials, opened on the “Price Is Right” soundstage in Los Angeles.As for the televised competition, it required some mental gymnastics, and was alternately disappointing and delicious. Here’s what the competition got right, and what may have left some viewers underwhelmed or unsettled.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber?  More

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    Netflix Builds a ‘Squid Game’ Universe as It Awaits a Second Season

    A reality show and a live experience are two ways of keeping the dystopian series in the public eye. Is the original’s bleak message being diluted?On the same soundstage where Bob Barker lorded over “The Price Is Right,” “Squid Game” is coming to life.On Wednesday, Netflix will unveil its latest live experience, based on the dystopian hit show in which desperate South Koreans competed in a brutal contest of simple schoolyard games for a prize of 45.6 billion won (around $38 million). Winners moved closer to the money. Losers died. The live attraction mimics both the popular iconography of the series — the massive piggy bank filled with cash, a giant animatronic doll named Young-hee, the sterile white dormitory — and the childish games.For $30, fans of “Squid Game” will compete in some 70 minutes of play, with moral twists and turns and six group activities, including the schoolyard race Red Light, Green Light and a nonlethal version of the series’ terrifying Glass Bridge challenge, which forced contestants to choose between two clear squares for each step across a bridge. If they chose incorrectly, they descended hundreds of feet to their death.To feel even more like a character on the show, customers can buy a tracksuit for $50 and wear it during the experience. There is also a $100 V.I.P. ticket option: In a nod to the original, you can watch the unfortunate masses compete in the games while you sip cocktails in a swanky lounge.“It’s all the fun without the death,” said Greg Lombardo, Netflix’s head of live experiences.A game called Harvest Festival at Netflix’s live experience, which is scheduled to open to the public on Wednesday.Jenna Schoenefeld for The New York TimesNetflix plans to expand the live experience into other cities, but no additional locations have been confirmed. It’s one of several “Squid Game” adaptations that Netflix has planned in the hope of keeping viewers engaged during the long gap between the show’s first season, which debuted in September 2021, and its second, which is filming in South Korea and will come out next year.One is an unscripted English-language competition show, “Squid Game: The Challenge.” Its first five episodes debuted on Nov. 22, and a second batch became available on Wednesday; the final episode will arrive Wednesday.Also coming soon is a video game in which players will be able to compete with characters from the series. A virtual reality game is already available, and in Brazil, Burger King has been offering “Squid Game”-themed food combos in four cities. (Care for an umbrella-shaped onion ring to go with that shake?)The brand offshoots follow a formula that Netflix has employed successfully for other popular shows, like “Bridgerton” and “Stranger Things.” A “Stranger Things” play that the streaming service helped develop will open in London’s West End on Dec. 14.The expansion of intellectual property like the “Squid Game” brand, however, is getting more scrutiny in Hollywood. In recent years, the closest an entertainment studio could get to a sure thing was a franchise spun from a popular piece of intellectual property: A film begets a sequel begets a theme park ride begets a line of consumer products. Now a certain amount of audience fatigue has set in.Marvel films like “Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania” and “The Marvels” struggled at the box office. The recent Harry Potter spinoff, “Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore,” and the D.C. Comics film “The Flash” also underperformed. The industry has been forced to ask: What deserves franchise-building attention, and when is it too much?“I’d say in general when you have I.P., if you just do too much of something, that can dilute what it is,” Netflix’s chief content officer, Bela Bajaria, said in an interview. “The other thing we look at is, are you being true to the DNA of the show and why people loved it but expanding that connection?”Losing competitors are marked off at Squid Game: The Trials. Jenna Schoenefeld for The New York TimesThe reasons that Netflix is trying to expand “Squid Game” are obvious. Not only is it the most-watched show on the platform but unsanctioned merchandise from the game, including tracksuits and Young-hee dolls, began selling almost immediately after its debut. Netflix now works with two global partners to meet the demand for the green athletic wear, especially around Halloween.Influencers have also capitalized on the show’s popularity. Last year, the YouTube star MrBeast enlisted 456 contestants to compete for $456,000 by playing tug of war and Red Light, Green Light. The video of the content generated 112 million views in the first five days online.With that kind of interest in an outside version of a real-life “Squid Game,” Netflix decided the time was right to try to capitalize with a reality show of its own, but in English, so as not to confuse audiences.“I was very curious how people would react to those games, the situations, the moral dilemmas,” said Minyoung Kim, Netflix’s head of Asian content, who was responsible for bringing the South Korean show to the service.The contests inspired by “Squid Game,” which is shooting its second season in South Korea, include Red Light, Green Light. Jenna Schoenefeld for The New York TimesStill, some question whether a reality show based on the South Korean filmmaker Hwang Dong-hyuk’s bleak view of his country’s class struggles and the global inequities of modern-day capitalism should exist at all.While “Squid Game: The Challenge” debuted at the top of Netflix’s English-language TV list with 20.1 million views and the original show vaulted back into the Top 10, reviews of the reality series have been scathing. Most criticized the 10-episode season for missing the broader critique of capitalist culture that is at the heart of the nihilistic series.A scene from “Squid Game: The Challenge,” a Netflix reality show, displaying an interim cash prize.NetflixThe show drew 20.1 million views when it premiered.Netflix“I see it obviously as an attempt to expand and monetize a franchise, but it seems particularly absurd given the anticapitalist message of the show,” said Miranda Banks, the chair of Loyola Marymount University’s film, television and media studies department.“‘Squid Game’ was a South Korean series, and it’s inflected with the politics of South Korean culture,” she added. “So part of this is not just a translation of the genre, but it’s also a translation of a nation. And in doing that, it is not surprising — and it’s arguably quite hilarious — that it becomes a pro-capitalist dream fulfilled.”The producers of the reality show are aware of the irony. But they said that by hewing as close to the original as possible — the same number of contestants (456) and a life-changing amount of prize money ($4.56 million) — they felt they could create compelling television despite the lower stakes.The live attraction is just one prong of Netflix’s campaign to expand the “Squid Game” brand.Jenna Schoenefeld for The New York Times“This was a drama that was so much about the fact that people who were eliminated were killed,” the producer Stephen Lambert said. “We were obviously never going to do that, but having such a big prize pot meant that when you were eliminated, your dreams died, and they were really big dreams that people had.”(The filming of the reality show has generated its own drama, with complaints from several contestants about “inhumane” conditions. When asked about the complaints, the producers said in a statement that they “take the welfare of our contestants extremely seriously.”)Still, does allowing fans to play along with a social satire cheapen its integrity?Ms. Banks doesn’t believe so.“I think that you probably have the fans who are there for the social commentary and the drama and the state of the game,” she said. “And then you have the people who love to play games. That might be different age groups. It might be different demographics.”A happy ending to Warships at Squid Game: The Trials. Jenna Schoenefeld for The New York TimesFor Marian Lee, Netflix’s chief marketing officer, the brand offshoots are doing their job — bringing renewed attention to “Squid Game” — yet she acknowledges the risks of creating so many versions that relied on the same source.“We have a hugely popular show that basically captures the cultural zeitgeist, but the doll, all the iconography, is carried through to the unscripted,” she said. “For us as a marketing team, how do you make sure that people understand that this is an unscripted version of that, and not the second season yet? You have to make sure that fans are following along: Oh, this is the unscripted version. Oh, this is the live experience. Oh, Season 2 is coming.“The fandom is there. It’s just making sure that we’re able to create distinct moments for each of those things.” More