Okay, I’ll be honest… I screamed. Not gonna lie about it. When Netflix dropped that Squid Game Season 3 trailer yesterday, I literally jumped off my couch and scared my cat so badly she knocked over my coffee. Worth it? Absolutely. My therapy bill this month? Probably not so much.
Holy Moly, We’re Really Doing This Again
Look, I thought I was emotionally prepared. I’ve rewatched both seasons twice (don’t judge me), I’ve analyzed every theory on Reddit, and I even bought those creepy doll socks from the gift shop. But nothing, and I mean NOTHING, could’ve prepared me for seeing Gi Hun lace up those shoes like he’s about to run a marathon straight through hell.
The trailer starts with Player 149 basically reading all of us for filth, asking Gi Hun if he’s blaming himself for everything. Girl, we ALL are! I’ve been carrying survivor’s guilt for fictional characters since 2021, and apparently, so has our boy Song Gi Hun. When she says “life is just unfair,” I felt that in my soul. My bank account agrees.
Memory Lane Is Paved with Tears
Remember when we were innocent? When the biggest worry was whether Red Light Green Light was actually scary? Those flashbacks to Season 1 hit different now.
Seeing Ali’s face again made me pause the trailer because I genuinely needed a moment. That man trusted the wrong person with marbles and I’m STILL not over it.
The way they spliced those memories with Season 2’s chaos was chef’s kiss editing. It’s like they knew exactly which emotional buttons to push. My friend texted me halfway through watching it saying “Why am I crying at a trailer?” Because we’re invested, Sarah. We’re trauma-bonded to these pixels on a screen.
Shoelaces and Psychological Warfare
But let’s talk about THE moment. You know the one. Gi Hun crouching down, methodically tightening those laces while Player 149 tells him he came to save everyone. The symbolism is so thick you could cut it with a knife. This isn’t just a man getting ready for a game; this is someone preparing for war.
And can we appreciate Lee Jung Jae’s acting here? The man doesn’t say a word, but his face tells the entire story. You can practically see him thinking “Well, here we go again into the nightmare factory.” Meanwhile, Lee Byung Hun’s Front Man is somewhere probably polishing his mask and practicing his ominous standing poses.
The Gumball Machine of Doom
Netflix really said “Hey, remember when gumballs were fun?” and then created what I’m calling the Anxiety Dispenser 3000. Red balls, blue balls, and probably a 50/50 chance of me having a panic attack when I see the results. The fact that they made a children’s candy machine look terrifying is peak Squid Game energy.
My younger cousin saw this part and asked if she could get one for her birthday. I told her absolutely not, and then spent twenty minutes explaining why colorful spheres are now a trigger for an entire generation.
That Baby Cry Though…
Nobody’s talking enough about that baby crying at the end. What does it mean?! Is it hope? Is it horror? Is it both? I’ve watched that part seventeen times and I still get goosebumps. My conspiracy theory brain is working overtime. Maybe it’s the sound of innocence being born into this messed-up world, or maybe it’s just Netflix being Netflix and messing with our heads one last time.
The Countdown Begins
Here’s the thing about June 27th – it’s simultaneously the best and worst date on my calendar. I’ve been waiting for answers since Season 2 left me staring at my TV screen like it personally wronged me. But I’m also terrified because we all know how this show handles emotions. Spoiler alert: not gently.
I’ve already planned my viewing party (tissues: check, comfort food: check, emotional support friends: check, therapist on speed dial: double check). My Netflix queue is cleared, my weekend is blocked off, and I’ve warned my neighbors about potential screaming.
I can’t believe we’re actually at the end. Like, remember when this was just “that weird Korean show” your friend wouldn’t shut up about? Now I can’t walk past a playground without getting Vietnam flashbacks from Red Light Green Light. My niece wanted to play hopscotch last week and I nearly had an existential crisis right there on the sidewalk.
This stupid, brilliant show has ruined so many innocent things for me. Piggy banks? Terrifying. School uniforms? Ominous. Even those little honeycomb candies at the Asian market make me break into a cold sweat. But somehow, watching people be genuinely good to each other in the worst possible circumstances also made me believe in humanity again. It’s confusing and I don’t like it.
So yeah, I’m ready for this final showdown between Gi Hun and the Front Man. I’m ready for answers, for closure, for probably crying myself into dehydration. But mostly, I’m ready to see if our broken hero can finally break the system that broke him.
Bring it on, Netflix. My emotional support ice cream is ready.