Meghan Markle is about to make her return to Netflix screens after a long absence of… well, just over a month. Hot on the heels (or maybe hoofs) of Prince Harry’s sports docuseries POLO dropping in December, the next effort from the couple’s Netflix partnership is hitting streaming in the form of With Love, Meghan, a cookery/lifestyle show.

You’d think that would be a harmless enough project, but apparently Meghan making salads for her famous friends (like Mindy Kaling) for eight hours is enough to incite intense backlash. Sussex critics, like ex-The View host Meghan McCain, are already blasting the series online, although it’s probably those who aren’t openly reacting to the show that we’d be most intrigued to hear from.

In short, what does the Royal Family think about With Love, Meghan? Is King Charles planning to get everyone together to binge it in one sitting when it premieres on Jan. 15?

The Royal Family have thoughts about Meghan’s latest Netflix series, and some of them will be watching

Tragically, while it would be nice to think King Charles is counting down the days until With Love, Meghan releases, with a notify-me bell set up and everything, that’s not quite the truth. That said, word has it that the monarch and the rest of the family are very eager for the duchess’ new show to be “a success.” Although they may have an ulterior motive behind their well-wishing.

As Royal expert Richard Eden succinctly put it when writing for Daily Mail, “Everyone wants it to be a success. And that’s because, if it is, she and Harry won’t need to exploit their royal connections again. The last thing anyone wants is another Spare, this time from Meghan.”

Harry and Meghan certainly do need With Love to be a huge hit. After POLO failed to leap into Netflix’s most-watched ranking for December, the time is running out for the Sussexes to make good on their exorbitant $100 million deal before it expires later this year. With their explosive 2022 series Harry & Meghan easily being their biggest streaming smash to date, it surely would be tempting for them to return to their Royal exposé days if Meghan’s cookery show collapses like a souffle taken out of the oven too soon.

At least it sounds like two members of the Royal Family will genuinely be tuning in out of support, though. Former BBC Royal correspondent Jennie Told told GB News (via Express) that she suspects Harry’s favorite cousins will be watching, even if the rest don’t.

“I very much doubt they [the Royal Family] will watch her show — though Eugenie and Beatrice might tune in,” she speculated. This is a smart guess — the Sussexes are known to be close to Prince Andrew’s daughters, with Eugenie’s Portugal residence likely inspiring Harry and Meghan’s recent vacation home purchase.

Well, that’s two viewers locked in, at least. Hopefully for Harry and Meghan, millions more will follow once With Love, Meghan releases. Otherwise the Royal Family’s fears might end up coming true.

There are few wrestlers as famous as Hulk Hogan. After more than 40 years in the WWE, a reality TV show, extensive acting roles, and multiple failed businesses, “Mr. America” has more than cemented himself in the cultural zeitgeist.

Unfortunately for Hogan, those decades of work don’t outweigh his years of grifting and groveling at Donald Trump’s feet. In a recent appearance on Netflix’s Monday Night RAW!, Hogan dusted off his trademark handlebar mustache and came out of retirement, but his return was met with fury rather than fanfare as the California crowd drowned out his speech with a wave of boos.

Hogan might have retired from the wrestling business in 2012, but the man has kept one beefy bicep in the spotlight ever since. Most of his time in the spotlight has been spent making cameo appearances in various media, but since the summer of 2024, Hogan has only been ripping his shirt off for president-elect Donald Trump.

It’s clear why Hogan loves Trump so much. The wrestler has emulated the businessman in as many ways as trademark makes possible, opening Hulk Hogan-themed restaurants and selling themed energy drinks, burgers, and even hazardous grills with his namesake. The success rate of The Hulkster’s ventures truly suggests that he graduated with honors from Trump University. Oh, don’t forget that Hogan blew through his fortune due to his lavish spending before he even retired.

Hogan’s terrible business ventures are a well-known joke in the world of WWE. While no fans were surprised by his latest grift, they certainly weren’t there for it—especially as fans reeled from what many saw as a lackluster premiere. Near the end of the night, Hogan burst onto the scene, followed closely by longtime musician/manager Jimmy Hart. The composer followed him like the world’s saddest hype man, emphatically waving the American flag. But as the cacophonous music died down and Hogan launched into a promotional piece for yet another terrible product, the crowd’s displeasure became unignorable.

The rippling boos turned into a firestorm of fury loud enough to pile drive Hogan’s delivery right into the floor. The seasoned wrestler clearly isn’t used to being rebuked by his “fans,” and as he struggles to regain control, Hart desperately tries to fade into the background.

Trying to take on the crowd’s emotions was a wrestling match the 71-year-old could never win. As he leaned on Netflix’s part for help, the name drop turned what was left of the crowd against him in a truly spectacular wave of furious boos. As Hogan trips through his final lines, it’s up to the announcers to rescue him from the excruciating moment.

Blasting music and praising the beer no one has tried, they try to play Hogan off as he flexes for a disinterested crowd. Finally, Hogan takes the hint, wandering away as his jacket slips down his legs, and Hart gladly fades into obscurity with him. 

Netflix’s Raw is currently filming in California, a bastion of Democratic ideals, so the response could be less about Hogan himself and more about his ardent Trump-thumpin’ support, but plenty of fans were pleased to see the seasoned wrestler humbled.

“My jaw was on the floor. Never thought I’d see the day Hogan finally getting what he deserves from the fans,” one Redditor commented. Commenters shared multiple stories about the wrestler’s appalling behavior over the years, from believing that bad karma would see him reincarnated as a Black man to helping bust Jesse Ventura’s attempt to unionize wrestling in the 1980s.

This section of the premiere episode certainly didn’t go the way Netflix or Hogan thought it would, but fans are rejoicing at the idea that somewhere out there, the Iron Sheik is enjoying this last laugh. If you know, you know.

As working members of the British Royal Family, Prince William and Kate Middleton are incredibly busy. William has barely been away from the public eye since becoming the Prince of Wales and heir apparent to the British throne following the death of his grandmother, Queen Elizabeth II, in 2022, while Kate is amid a highly welcome return to duty following treatment for cancer for much of 2024.

Of course, the couple are also parents to three children: 11-year-old Prince George, nine-year-old Princess Charlotte, and six-year-old Prince Louis, resulting in them getting minimal downtime to do their own thing. That means, on the rare occasions they do get to relax, they like to enjoy themselves. For William and Kate, that means doing what millions of couples worldwide do: sitting in front of the television and watching a good Netflix series (and no, unsurprisingly, it’s not the Harry & Meghan documentary).

Last month, while visiting military families, William revealed he and Kate had been watching Black Doves. A source in the British newspaper The Telegraph wrote, “Prince William also disclosed that he has been watching Netflix at home with the Princess, including Black Dove [sic] which stars Keira Knightley.”

What is Black Doves?

Created by Joe Barton, the man responsible for creating the crime series Giri/Haji and sci-fi thriller The Lazarus Project, Black Doves is a spy thriller starring Keira Knightley, Ben Whishaw, and Sarah Lancashire, with a supporting cast including Andrew Buchan, Andrew Koji, Omari Douglas, Sam Troughton, and Ella Lily Hyland.

Knightley plays Helen Webb, the wife of Buchan’s Secretary of State for Defence Wallace Webb, and a spy who discovers her secret identity is at risk of being exposed after her lover is killed by a sniper in London’s criminal underworld. It’s undoubtedly the kind of rip-roaring affair we can imagine members of the British Royal Family enjoying.

William’s revelation that he’s a fan of the series isn’t the first time the prince has given an insight into his family’s televisual viewing habits. Per The Express, he’d previously revealed he and Kate are fans of the Bourne series of movies, the hit BBC series Killing Eve, and the iconic HBO fantasy series Game of Thrones. Per Time (from a now-deleted article that initially appeared on People.com), William has also claimed the couple are big lovers of Showtime’s political espionage thriller Homeland. Also, per The Standard, he outed himself as a keen watcher of the dance contest show Strictly Come Dancing. Suffice it to say that William and Kate have eclectic tastes regarding the small screen.

This year looks busy for the Prince of Wales and his wife, as Kate’s biographer Robert Jobson recently told HELLO!, “Last year was an exceptional year, and William stepped up into a solo global-statesman role, but going forward, I think Catherine will spend more time at his side. They will both be mindful of their children’s education and will make sure they’re around if anything crucial happens, but there will be situations where they have to put the country and duty before their children.” With that in mind, whether they’ll have time to watch much television in 2025 remains to be seen.

Although the launch of her lifestyle company has been mired in troubles, both little and large, Meghan Markle has soldiered on regardless. A $100 million deal with Netflix is maybe just the cash infusion she needs, and her lifestyle show will start showing soon.

This is a bright spot of news for a woman whose PR has been less than stellar of late, amid continued rumors of divorce and and a backdrop of constant criticism about her relationship with her husband, Prince Harry. For Meghan, a return to her lifestyle blogging days might be just the ticket to help showcase a more relaxed, chilled-out side.

Ahead of its release Meghan has posted to Instagram and Netflix has released a trailer featuring snippets from the show, and to be fair, the show looks to be very well produced. The production values are high and the visuals are stunning, with to-die-for food and luxurious staging interspersed with celebrity appearances and fun outings to the beehive to collect honey.

Except it looks and feels just like every other well-produced, luxurious, and “aspirational” lifestyle show: Staged in spacious mansions with the same sort of universal, almost bland, décor, With Love, Meghan offers little new — or even anything that’s personal to Meghan.

In a scathing review of the trailer, The Independent declares With Love, Meghan to be like something out of a horror film, the writer declaring that when she saw it, all she “could think was: I didn’t realise there was a sequel to Get Out.” The saccharine staging and the presentation simply dripping with tradwife vibes earned a thumbs down from the writer, who described its tone as “so jarringly earnest it feels sinister.” It’s hard to disagree that the tone feels a little overwrought, although the content is par for the course with this kind of show.

When Netflix posted the trailer to its official YouTube channel, many were perplexed that the video had its comments left on, seemingly ignoring the legions of anti-Meghan fans ready to tear apart Meghan’s smallest action. Perhaps Netflix wanted to appear aloof, maybe the duchess thought it was a brave move, but she forgets that negative feedback, no matter how hollow or baseless, can alter perception.

“Wow, I clicked on the comments section expecting them to be disabled. Leaving them open is courageous for this show.”

Apart from thrashing the look and tone of the show, many wanted to discuss Harry and the Royals’ presence — or lack thereof — despite being members of the same section that has long lamented the fact that the Sussexes appeared to be joined at the hip, refusing to do anything individually. With Love, Meghan seems to be an attempt by Meghan to put herself front and center, less “Harry and Meghan” and more “just Meghan,” but as is the case with the Suits star, nothing she does can ever be right and the comments prove that as they criticize everything from her allegedly phony Hollywood smile to her picture-perfect salon curls to the array of her guests who many are convinced are just faking their enthusiasm.

Many commenters took offense to the very concept of the show itself, with one user writing a particularly scathing comment.

“Yes Netflix, this is exactly what I’m looking to watch at home after a long day of worrying about paying all my bills, including my student and car loans, rent, and medical debt—a bunch of women who are wearing clothes worth more than I earn within a year.”

The show was referred to as “utterly tone deaf” by a former presenter of The View. While criticizing a show is neither new nor unjustified, doing it solely to troll Meghan Markle isn’t exactly ethical. But nothing can be done as commentary surrounding the show’s trailer seems to have already decided its fate — that the project is unlikely to be quite the smash hit the Duchess of Sussex was hoping for, thus making it just another one of many lackluster projects from the couple since they officially set aside Royal duties.

Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl has officially taken flight on Netflix, and not a speck of merit has washed off Nick Park’s beloved duo all these years later. Indeed, beyond the frantically funny dialogue and set pieces that we’ve come to expect from the cheese-loving inventor and his no-nonsense pooch, Vengeance Most Fowl also has more than a few insightful things to say about why we need to relax our reliance on technology.

Those familiar with this mainstay of British pop culture will already be familiar with Wallace’s zany morning routine, which involves machines that get him out of bed, dress him, bathe him, sit him down at the table, and feed him breakfast. Usually, this is a chuckle-worthy quirk, but Vengeance Most Fowl sees it a bit differently; if machines do all of our living for us, what space is left for us to occupy?

This theme comes to a front when Wallace introduces his latest creation — Norbot, a prototype robotic garden gnome that can whip up a socially acceptable backyard in a matter of seconds. This leads to even more Norbots being invented to handle even more gardening and yardwork, eventually pairing these jobs with a tune about loving to tidy up, sung in unison by all the working Norbots.

And that tune is the darkest extreme of what Vengeance Most Fowl is playing upon here.

Let’s break this down: The main thematic idea of Vengeance Most Fowl is that our obsession with treating everything as a job that needs to be finished is harming our ability to enjoy things, which in turn harms our emotional connection to our lives and the world we inhabit. This obsession leads us to automation, which can accomplish more tasks at an exponentially faster rate at the cost of removing us from the process entirely.

But there’s another layer to this that isn’t considered often enough; robots (such as Norbot), machines, and artificial intelligence may be capable of completing all of these tasks faster (be it gardening, creating, or what have you), but they aren’t capable of enjoying these tasks. Think about that: It’s tragic enough that Gromit was deprived of gardening (which is something he loves doing), but how uncanny is it that gardening is now being done by something physically incapable of loving the task at all? With robots, there’s not even precedence to enjoy the act of doing something; the loss of connection inherent in doing something is now twofold.

With that in mind, consider how downright disturbing it is for these robots — who, again, are not capable of enjoying the things that they do — to be singing a song about how great it is to complete yard work; a song coded as a sort of blue-collar shanty sung specifically to raise morale on the factory floor. They’re robots; morale doesn’t need to be raised.

And really, this is the point that so many real-life conversations about artificial intelligence are missing the mark on, specifically those about AI art and writing. Proponents champion this technology because of the speed with which it can create a photo or a paragraph, and they like that efficiency because it means the result can be consumed (not enjoyed; consumed) faster. This is also true of the AI itself; the machine’s relationship to the result is exclusively one of efficiency and completion. It does not enjoy creating because it is not capable of enjoying it, or even understanding why it’s doing what it’s doing.

But humans don’t want to consume art; they want to love it. The act of both creating and engaging with any art is born from loving it, and robots have no such emotional starting point. Thus, the purpose of art is lost entirely by having robots create something, just as the purpose for Gromit’s gardening was lost when Norbot hijacked the backyard, and then tried to convince us through song that a life based on completing tasks rather than enjoying oneself is fulfilling.

Meghan Markle can do it all: star in a beloved legal drama, fall in love with royalty, have the wedding of the century, and leave royal life in the rearview. Sure, she’s had a few missteps, like when her animated show Pearl got canceled before it was even made. But her upcoming Netflix show is already the talk of the town (or streamer).

Thanks to Prince Harry and Markle’s $100 million Netflix deal, all eyes are on the actress and mom. It’s been a few years since Markle starred in her very own show, and anticipation is high. Let’s find out the name of her new series along with when it will premiere.

What is Meghan Markle’s Netflix show called?

The star’s new Netflix show is called With Love, Meghan. Although the title doesn’t really explain the actual content, it’s a lifestyle series where Markle will hang out in her garden, cook, and talk to people. It’s a cooking show that will also have advice and feature more casual discussions than formal sit-down interviews.

Markle posted a video of With Love, Meghan on her Instagram account, explaining, “I’ve always loved taking something pretty ordinary and elevating it. Surprising people with moments that let them know I was really thinking of them.”

Some are unsure about Markle’s foray into lifestyle content and some question if she is trying to become Martha Stewart; while it might seem random, Markle did run a lifestyle blog called The Tig for three years where she shared recipes and posts about fashion and travel. From the With Love, Meghan trailer, the show looks pretty, and it doesn’t seem like a bad way to spend a few hours. But at the same time, is this really necessary?

Markle isn’t the first celebrity to star in her own lifestyle show. How different will With Love, Meghan be from the lackluster Overserved with Lisa Vanderpump or Cooking with Paris? Okay, I bet Markle can cook a lot better than Paris Hilton. And I, for one, am excited to see Prince Harry and Markle’s Montecito, California home. From the trailer, it’s clear their beautiful kitchen gives every Nancy Myers movie kitchen a run for their money. There’s something soothing about seeing Markle walk through her garden and chop veggies. I want to give Markle the benefit of the doubt and hope that With Love, Meghan has more depth than the trailer suggests.

At least the food looks delicious! Markle made a Victorian sponge cake and canapes for the show. And she won me over years ago when she said, “I could eat French fries all day. And I love pasta. I love carbs — who doesn’t love a carbohydrate?”

When does Meghan Markle’s Netflix show premiere?

With Love, Meghan will premiere on Jan. 15th, 2025. Your New Year’s resolution is to spend more time on the couch with your TV, right? Lifting heavier weights and eating more cauliflower is so 2024 (just kidding, I love lifting weights… but am not into cauliflower). Season 1 has eight episodes. Time will tell if this show will be a success and get more seasons.

And, after you’ve binge-watched all the episodes of With Love, Meghan, you can rewatch Harry & Meghan, the six-part documentary series about the couple, which is also on Netflix.

The second season of Squid Game continues to make its rounds on the Netflix charts, and Hwang Dong-hyuk has quite definitively proven that his show’s success was no matter of luck. Indeed, with the show’s anti-capitalist thesis continuing to fire on old and new cylinders, it seems like only a matter of time until the third and final season completes a near-perfect trifecta of dystopian storytelling.

One of these aforementioned new cylinders is the character of Cho Hyun-ju, the 120th designated player of these Squid Games, and a transgender woman who’s hoping to use the money to fund her gender-affirming surgery, having lost her entire professional and personal network after coming out.

As with most every fictional trans character, though, it didn’t take long for Hyun-ju to become the center of an internet firestorm. Key to this debate (for lack of a better word) was the fact that the character is played by Park Sung-hoon, a cisgender male actor who was reportedly cast because the production team was unable to find a South Korean actress who was also a trans woman.

As a trans person, I have a number of thoughts on this, the majority of which stem from one, single, extremely cultivated sentiment: “I am exhausted.”

From a purely utilitarian perspective, you’re doing yourself a disservice by not casting trans actors in trans roles. The specific strain of dissonance with which gender dysphoria can ravage someone is near impossible to embody for even the sharpest actors, and it’s senseless for a show or film to deprive itself of that depth of insight by casting a cis actor in trans roles. Beyond that, narrative media is in a unique position in that it can readily make trans bodies and actors more visible to thousands upon millions of people, thereby demystifying a demographic that such audiences have little to no experience engaging with.

But Hwang, on some level, already knows all of this, as he did seek out a trans woman for the role, and only opted for Park when he could not find a trans actress. This has nevertheless drawn a lot of ire, as casting a man in the role of a trans woman can reinforce the idea that trans women occupy the exact same social space as cis men, which is incredibly harmful.

And as I was watching, I noticed several scenes in the season that could very easily be read as feeding into harmful stereotypes; Hyun-ju threatening to kill Seon-nyeo during the six-legged race, and her violent anger towards Myung-gi after he ostensibly causes the death of Young-mi both run the risk of affirming the notion that trans women are just violent men looking for new ways to be violent.

And yet, I fell in love with the way that Hyun-ju was written and performed, as did so many other people. Why should her violent anger define her to a greater degree than her compassion, which is much more prominent, especially in a space full of violent anger from men and women alike? Why should we chalk up her aforementioned threat towards Seon-nyeo as a decidedly male impulse, rather than the action of a lucid leader of any gender who has the guts to take control of a horrible situation? Why should Park being cisgender overshadow Hyun-ju as an absolutely fantastic trans character, one who has, at least partly, disrupted cultural boundaries that need to be disrupted?

That’s why I’m exhausted. I’m sick of the onus being placed on storytellers to tick all of these delicate boxes to make up for the irresponsibility and intolerance of those who demand proof of trans people’s humanity. I’m sick of a world where my acknowledgment (and dare I say love) for my pre-transition form (much like Hyun-ju’s AMAB body that looks a lot like Park Sung-hoon’s) is such a precarious, politicized nuance that it could make or break someone’s acceptance of trans people.

I’m sick of a casting controversy — which exists only because the cultural vocabulary surrounding trans people is so thin — staining the celebration-worthy occasion of having such a wonderfully nuanced trans character lighting up Netflix queues all over the world. And I’m sick of how the scarcity of trans acceptance has made life so difficult for the existing and would-be trans actresses that, in some alternate dimension, could have lined up for the role of Hyun-ju.

I for one will be eagerly awaiting season three to see how the rest of Hyun-ju’s arc plays out in Hwang’s sensational mythos, and I’ve no doubt that Park is going to do a damn fine job of bringing it to life. Now if only the world could do a damn fine job of normalizing the existence of trans people.

We always knew the streaming business model would prioritize quantity over quality, but learning that Netflix essentially asks its scriptwriters to dumb down the dialogue to barely distinguishable background noise screams futuristic cyberpunk dystopia in a way that not even the most horrifying stories in the genre can quite imitate.

Serving as yet another grim reminder of how art has metamorphosed into an algorithm — a formula designed to capture and hold your attention for as long as it can — a new essay circulating on social media seems to suggest that Netflix asks its authors to have characters “announce what they’re doing so that viewers who have a program on in the background can follow along.”

I guess even Netflix, with its doomscroll-friendly, ADHD-inducing environment, can’t quite compete with the waning attention spans of the general populace, resorting to dumbing down the story and dialogue to the point where you could be watching a YouTube video on your tablet, scrolling through TikTok on your phone, and roughly keeping up with what JLo’s character is doing on Atlas. There’s apparently a whole section of movies and TV shows under “casual viewing” that go down best when “you’re not paying attention.” And to say that this casual warping of our entertainment industry into a frenzied content consumption engine is alarming would be an understatement.

Now it makes sense why so many productions in recent years are one editing mistake away from being utter garbage. There was a time when Hollywood would be criticized for insulting your intelligence by dumbing down movies, cutting away intricate details relating to worldbuilding, and pretending as if the idea was to sit down and just have some mindless fun. Now, industry moguls like Netflix are moving one step beyond that. This isn’t just insulting your audience’s intelligence anymore, but acknowledging that the whole practice of making decent movies is a thing of the past. What you need now is to take one slice of their fragmented attention, and try to keep it as long as you can. Well, that could hardly be done if they need to pay some serious attention to understand what’s going on.

As Will Tavlin writes in his haunting but informative piece, “‘Play Something,’ as in: Play anything. It doesn’t matter if it’s good or bad, if a user is on their phone or cleaning their room. What matters is that it’s on and that it stays on until Netflix asks its perennial question, a prompt that appears when the platform thinks a user has fallen asleep: ‘Are you still watching?'”

TV shows and movies that come out of streaming these days, which is like almost the entire industry, feel like eating junk food, and we finally know why. As one user aptly observed: “They are making screensavers.”

It’s not just bad dialogue and characterization that’s plaguing these shows. The medium itself is being undermined under the sheer weight of quantity. “The editors of these films seem to have just given up, too,” Talvin writes. “The cutting between shots is frenetic. The lighting is terrible. The TNM looks both oversaturated and flat, with the blacks brightened and the highlights dulled, a result of Netflix’s insistence that its originals be shot with powerful digital cameras that compress poorly on viewers’ laptops and televisions.”

So, the next time you start playing a TV show that’s, for lack of a better word, utterly mediocre and underserving of your time and attention, maybe drop it promptly and even cancel your subscription to send the shareholder overlords an explicit message. Unless, of course, you find yourself in the camp of people who’d rather have something playing in the background as they browse endlessly through admittedly more engaging content on social media.

As Squid Game returns for its second season, the series continues its tradition of transforming innocent childhood games into deadly challenges. This time, a traditional Korean pastime called Gonggi takes center stage in a nail-biting team competition.

In episode 4 of Squid Game season 2, contestants face a unique pentathlon where teams of five players must compete while physically bound together. Each team member must master a different traditional game, with no help from their teammates, while maintaining perfect synchronization as they move between challenges. Among these games is Gonggi, an ancient Korean game that combines juggling elements and quick hand-eye coordination. The challenge becomes even more intense as teams must complete their circuit within a five-minute limit, making every second count.

Including Gonggi in the show’s deadly repertoire is particularly significant as it represents one of Korea’s most beloved traditional children’s games. While Western audiences might draw parallels to jacks or marbles, Gonggi has its own distinct rules and cultural significance, having been played for generations across Korean households and schoolyards.

How Gonggi transforms from playground fun to deadly game

In its traditional form, Gonggi is played with five small stones or marbles about the size of grapes. While modern children often use colorful plastic pieces, similar to the ones from Squid Game season 2, the game historically used smooth pebbles called gonggitdol. The game’s widespread popularity has led to regional variations, with different names and slight rule modifications across various Korean provinces. In North Gyeongsang Province, it’s known as jjagebatgi, while South Gyeongsang Province calls it Salgu, and in South Jeolla Province, players know it as Datjjakgeoli.

The game progresses through five increasingly difficult levels, each requiring more precise timing and dexterity than the last. The first level begins simply enough: players scatter the stones on a flat surface and must throw one stone in the air while quickly picking up another from the ground before catching the airborne stone. This pattern continues until all stones are collected. The challenge lies in the physical coordination required and in maintaining a steady rhythm and focus throughout the sequence.

As players advance through levels, the challenge intensifies. Level two requires picking up two stones simultaneously, demanding increased spatial awareness and quicker hand movements. Level three ups the ante by requiring players to gather three stones together and one separately, testing their ability to plan and execute more complex patterns. By level four, players must demonstrate masterful control by collecting all four stones in one swift move while keeping the fifth stone airborne.

The game’s final level provides the ultimate test of skill, where players must toss all five stones into the air, flip their hand palm-down, and catch as many stones as possible on the back of their hand. Then, the player must throw all five stones in the air again and catch them before they fall. Usually, the number of rocks you catch defines your score at the end of the game. However, in season 2 of Squid Game, players must achieve a perfect score to progress. Missing any stone forces the player to start the game from scratch, redoing all five difficulty levels. No wonder this particular game eliminates so many teams from the competition.

Following the pattern of the first season, season 2 of Squid Game has transformed more innocent playground activity into something sinister. Luckily, the inclusion of Gonggi alongside other traditional games helps showcase the rich tapestry of Korean childhood experiences to a global audience, even if it’s through the series’ characteristically dark lens.

The second season of Squid Game might as well win an imaginary award for the most anticipated South Korean show of all time. From the moment it premiered on Netflix, Squid Game quickly joined the ranks of South Korea’s most globally recognized exports — alongside BTS, PSY, and Parasite.

Its widespread popularity is also incredibly well-deserved: the show is truly one of a kind. With its unique premise critiquing an increasingly capitalist and hierarchical society, it struck a chord with audiences worldwide. Now that season 2 has finally arrived on Netflix, we’ve been introduced to a slew of new characters, including Player 120 — the first trans character on the show, and possibly one of the first trans characters in mainstream South Korean entertainment. But this raises the question: Is the actor playing Player 120 actually trans?

Is the actor playing Player 120 actually trans?

No, Park Sung-hoon, the actor portraying Hyun-Ju (Player 120), is not transgender. However, this casting choice is not solely about opting for cisgender actors over transgender ones — it also reflects the scarcity of trans actors in South Korea. Unlike the United States, where diversity among emerging actors is more commonly fostered, South Korea’s entertainment industry does not prioritize such representation.

Openly gay or queer actors are rare in South Korea — a fact that TVGuide appropriately labeled as “heartbreaking,” and a sentiment that we share. A quick Google search reveals only a handful of openly queer celebrities in the industry, including Hong Seok-cheon, a celebrity chef and variety show host; Holland, the first openly gay K-pop idol; and Harisu, a transgender singer and actress. This highlights a stark contrast: while South Korea is a leader in technological advancement, its progress in human rights and societal acceptance of LGBTQ+ individuals remains very limited.

Squid Game‘s popularity, however, might just spark the conversations and awareness needed for South Korean society to evolve and start normalizing diversity.

While Park Sung-hoon is a cisgender man, his character, Hyun-Ju, is competing in the game to pay for her gender-affirming surgery — a topic that, dare we say, has rarely been explored in the Asian country’s mainstream media, especially in a global phenomenon as massive as Squid Game. As of early December, Variety reported the first season of Squid Game had drawn an astounding 330 million viewers on Netflix, and it’s almost certain that season two will replicate, if not surpass, those numbers.

To our surprise, South Korea remains a surprisingly conservative country, especially compared to some of its neighboring East and Southeast Asian nations. Same-sex marriage, for instance, is still neither legalized nor recognized under South Korean law. In contrast, Taiwan and Thailand have emerged as leaders in the production of queer media. Thailand, in particular, has long been a source of some of the most popular BL (Boys’ Love) and GL (Girls’ Love) dramas, while South Korea only began producing BL series in 2020 with the release of Where Your Eyes Linger. Even so, these shows typically do not air on major TV channels or during prime-time hours, for obvious reasons.

LGBTQ+ rights are not the only area where South Korea lags behind. The status of women’s rights in the country is another clear indicator of the significant progress still needed in advancing human rights. That said, Squid Game is making strides in the right direction with Hyun-Ju’s character. It’s a small but meaningful step toward broader representation in South Korean media and beyond.

Season 2 of Squid Game wastes no time introducing viewers to yet another deadly variation of a childhood game. This time, the seemingly simple game of Rock, Paper, Scissors receives a twisted makeover that proves fatal in the very first episode.

Squid Game’s second season happens three years after the events of season 1. Seong Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae) is still consumed by his mission to take down the organization behind the deadly games. His vast fortune from winning the first tournament has allowed him to secure unlikely allies, including Mr. Kim (Kim Pub-lae), the loan shark who once threatened to harvest his organs. Operating from the Pink Hotel, Gi-hun’s base of operations, the champion continues his relentless pursuit of The Salesman (Gong Yoo), the mysterious recruiter who lures desperate individuals into the deadly competition.

The series’ commitment to transforming innocent games into instruments of death is showcased when The Salesman turns the tables on his pursuers. After being cornered by Mr. Kim and his associate Woo-seok (Jun Suk-ho), The Salesman captures them both and forces them to participate in a deadly version of a childhood favorite. The following contest scene perfectly encapsulates the psychological tension that Squid Game has become known for.

Squid Game adds a deadly twist to Rock, Paper, Scissors Minus One

Rock, Paper, Scissors Minus One adds a complex layer of strategy to the traditional game. While Western audiences might be familiar with the single-hand version, this Korean variant traditionally begins with players using both hands. Each participant must start with two hands down, displaying any combination of the three symbols they choose. Then, players must simultaneously lift one hand, leaving their final choice behind. This variation creates an intense psychological element to the luck-based game, as players must consider their initial choices and anticipate which hand their opponent will withdraw.

In the show’s characteristically dark fashion, The Salesman raises the stakes by adding a revolver to the game. Following the rules of a different game, Russian Roulette, the Salesman puts a single bullet into the revolver’s chamber, rolls the barrels to randomize the bullet’s positions, and promises to shoot whoever loses the Rock Paper Scissors Minus One match. At first, losers have a one-in-six chance of death, but the odds become increasingly deadly as more bullets are added after each round. The Salesman’s sadistic enjoyment of the game adds another layer of psychological torture as he smiles and relishes each pull of the trigger, savoring the players’ terror between rounds.

The psychological toll of this deadly version becomes painfully evident when Woo-seok makes a mistake and makes the tactical error of showing rock symbols with both hands. Mr. Kim finds himself in a position of terrible power with his combination of paper and scissors. Depending on which hand he removes, Mr. Kim can seal Woo-seok’s fate. 

The paralyzing weight of holding someone else’s life in his hands proves too much to bear. Despite having a clear path to victory, he freezes, unable to decide which hand to lift. The Salesman, maintaining his twisted sense of order even in this brutal game, declares this hesitation a “disqualification” and executes Mr. Kim, adding another victim to the growing list of lives claimed by the organization’s deadly games.

This innovative yet horrifying take on Rock, Paper, Scissors demonstrates how Squid Game continues to excel at subverting childhood games into vehicles for exploring human nature under extreme pressure. Plus, adding the “Minus One” Korean rule transforms a simple game of chance into a complex psychological battle, forcing players to engage in strategic thinking while facing mortal danger.

Squid Game season 2 is finally available, following Gi-hun’s (Lee Jung-jae) one-man-war against the deadly competition. The season is filled with unexpected twists and shocking deaths. However, there are still unanswered questions by the time the final credits roll.

After the surprising success of Squid Game, Netflix has ordered two more seasons of the show to wrap up all loose threads. That means season 2 is only half of the sequel story writer and director Hwang Dong-hyuk has crafted. So, instead of wrapping things up and leaving a single cliffhanger for the follow-up season, season 2 ends in the middle of the action, raising many burning questions that season 3 has to answer.

What is Dae-ho lying about?

Squid Game season 2 introduced new characters, including Dae-ho (Kang Ha-neul), who quickly becomes an ally for Gi-hun when the former champion rejoins the games. Dae-ho’s entire identity revolves around the time he served in the Marine; however, the season hints that the young man might be lying about his past. The biggest clue comes at the end of Squid Game season 2 when Dae-ho feels forced to join Gi-hun’s revolution. Dae-ho can’t shoot properly, doesn’t know how to handle firearms like other former soldiers, and the battle is so intense to him that he goes back to the dormitory and freezes. Season 3 of Squid Game has to clear up Dae-ho’s past, explaining what he has lied about, how much, and why.

What’s the fate of Gi-hun?

At the end of Squid Game season 2, In-ho (Lee Byung-hun) fakes his death, reclaims the role of The Front Man, and snuffs Gi-hun’s revolution. He also shoots Jung-bae (Lee Seo-hwan) in front of Gi-hun, forcing him to witness the murder of his longtime friend; however, we still don’t know what will happen to Gi-hun. Since Gi-hun has decided to sacrifice other players’ lives in the name of his revolution, the Front Man has already won their ethical battle. Still, the Front Man lets Gi-hun live, meaning he has something more terrifying than death in store for the former champion.

Will No-eul help to put an end to the games?

One of the most curious characters introduced in Squid Game season 2 is No-eul (Park Gyu-young), a former North Korean soldier who shot her superior and defected to South Korea. No-eul is trying to bring her son across the border, which leads her to get a job as a masked soldier in the competition. No-eul follows orders and helps kill the players who lose the games, but she also seems to have a heart. After all, she pities Gyeong-seok (Lee Jin-wook), a single father who becomes a player to pay for his daughter’s expensive cancer treatment. 

No-eul and Gyeong-seok have worked together in an amusement park, so the soldier knows the man’s despair. Yet the second season doesn’t give her character a whole arc, and her presence is still unjustified for the overall plot. Since Gyeong-seok died during Gi-hun’s revolution, No-eul might turn her back on the games’ administration and help Gi-hun defeat the Front Man. Otherwise, there’s no reason why Squid Game season 2 spent so much screen time on her and Gyeong-seok.

Why did Captain Park betray Jun-ho?

Squid Game season 2 explains that Jun-ho (Wi Ha-jun) has survived being shot and falling from a cliff after getting rescued by a fisherman, Captain Park (Oh Dal-su). In the years following his recovery, Jun-ho created a bond with Captain Park, who helped the former detective scour the sea in search of the island where the games happen. However, the final episode of the second season reveals Captain Park is tampering with the equipment Jun-ho’s mercenary team uses to find the island. The fisherman even kills one of the mercenaries to keep his secret. Season 3 of Squid Game has to explain if Captain Park has been working for the Front Man all along or if his betrayal is more recent.

What is the second giant doll for?

The mid-credits scene of Squid Game season 2 shows the courtyard where competitors must play “Red Light, Green Light” at the start of each competition. In the original game, a giant doll equipped with motion detectors scans the players, telling snipers who have moved, lost the game, and must be put down; however, in the mid-credits scene, a second giant doll is in the courtyard. Since the players have already faced “Red Light, Green Light,” they might play a different game in the courtyard in season 3. Or maybe the courtyard will be used to punish the players for Gi-hun’s revolution. One thing is clear: The deadly competition is far from over.