Squid Game, the gripping South Korean survival drama, employs food not merely as sustenance but as a potent symbol of societal ills, economic disparity, and the erosion of human dignity. Throughout the series, food acts as a multifaceted narrative device, exposing the desperation of the contestants, the manipulative tactics of the game masters, and the dehumanizing consequences of extreme inequality. The stark contrast between everyday Korean treats like tteokbokki and the unattainable luxury of a juicy steak underscores the vast chasm between the contestants’ lived realities and the extravagant world of their unseen overlords.
The series’ central premise revolves around the desperation of individuals driven to extreme measures by crushing debt and societal pressures. For these contestants, the deadly games aren’t a choice but a last resort, a gamble to escape the suffocating grip of poverty. Food, or rather the lack thereof, becomes a tool of manipulation, exacerbating the already tense atmosphere and fueling distrust among the players. The carefully rationed meals, mirroring real-world resource scarcity, force alliances to crumble and betrayals to flourish, highlighting how hunger can erode even the strongest bonds of friendship and loyalty. This calculated scarcity transforms food into a weapon, wielded by the game masters to control and dehumanize the participants.
This dehumanization is further emphasized by the contestants’ reduction to numbered uniforms, stripping them of their individuality and reducing them to mere pawns in a macabre game. The subplot involving organ harvesting amplifies this theme, showcasing the lengths to which individuals are driven when survival becomes paramount. In this dystopian setting, the human body itself becomes a commodity, a potential source of income in a world where everything, even life itself, has a price. Food, or the lack of it, becomes a catalyst for this commodification, pushing individuals to sacrifice their dignity, their morals, and even their own bodies for a chance at survival.
The psychological impact of food scarcity is also explored with unflinching realism. The constant gnawing hunger, coupled with the ever-present fear of elimination, leads to emotional instability, impulsive decisions, and the erosion of moral principles. Gi-hun’s struggle to maintain his compassion in the face of such brutality serves as a stark counterpoint to the hardening of other contestants, who prioritize self-preservation above all else. This psychological unraveling mirrors the documented effects of real-world food insecurity, where the chronic stress of hunger contributes to anxiety, depression, and the breakdown of social relationships. The series underscores how deprivation can corrode not just the body but also the spirit, chipping away at trust and morality until only the primal instinct to survive remains.
Beyond its symbolic weight, food in Squid Game also serves a cultural and narrative function. The inclusion of traditional Korean dishes and snacks like dalgona candy anchors the story within a specific cultural context, while simultaneously transforming their meaning. Dalgona candy, a childhood treat associated with innocence and joy, becomes a symbol of lost innocence and the oppressive nature of systemic inequality. This juxtaposition of familiar cultural elements with the brutal reality of the games creates a powerful dissonance, highlighting the perversion of childhood memories and the pervasive reach of economic hardship.
Furthermore, food scenes often foreshadow crucial plot developments. The steak dinner shared between Gi-hun and Sang-woo, for example, foreshadows their eventual, tragic confrontation. This careful use of food as a narrative device adds depth to the storytelling, enriching the viewing experience and prompting reflection on the complex interplay between food, culture, and human relationships. In contrast to the show’s bleak portrayal of food as a tool of control, the real-world reception of Squid Game has seen the commodification of its food imagery through merchandise and promotional tie-ins. This ironic twist raises questions about the potential dilution of the show’s social commentary in the face of commercialization, and whether such playful engagement with the show’s themes can coexist with its critique of capitalist excess.
Ultimately, Squid Game uses food as a powerful lens through which to examine the devastating consequences of economic desperation and societal inequality. The series exposes the dehumanizing effects of scarcity, the erosion of trust and morality under duress, and the commodification of human life in a system that prioritizes profit over human well-being. By highlighting the psychological and emotional toll of hunger, the series forces viewers to confront uncomfortable truths about the world we live in and the systems that perpetuate such disparities. The enduring question posed by Squid Game remains: in a world where survival becomes a commodity, what is the true cost of staying alive, and who ultimately bears the burden of that price?
