The Biblical Imagery Behind Netflix’s ‘Squid Game’ Season 3
Warning: This review contains spoilers.
(REVIEW) “Squid Game” is a series that’s no stranger when it comes to weaving religious imagery into its narrative. Season 3 culminates that thread with both subtle and striking references, particularly when it comes to Christian symbolism. The season, it turns out, is more parable than sermon.
The third season starts off where last season left off. Gi‑hun (played by Lee Jung-jae) is defeated following a failed attempt to escape. In Season 3, he is portrayed almost as a Christ‑like figure, placing him at the center of a moral battlefield that pits infant sacrifice, parental betrayal, redemption and death against a backdrop of systemic cruelty. These storylines fuels the show’s ethical and spiritual stakes — even as the series’ political critiques of capitalism, democracy and elites remains central to its message.
Created by Hwang Dong-hyuk, Squid Game became a global sensation after premiering on Netflix in September 2021. The show’s extreme gore, plus its themes about capitalism and inequality, helped put K-content on the map. The first season’s success led to additional support from Netflix, which in 2023 announced a $2.5 billion investment in Korean shows and movies through 2027. Experts said “Squid Game” also fueled overseas interest in other Korean products.
This past Friday’s premiere of the third, and final installment, of the series continues to be a fascinating portrayal of greed and the human condition in the modern world. While the South Korena version of the games may be over, the finale alludes to a possible American spin-off.
Photo courtesy of Netflix
Myriad of Judeo-Christian references
The six episodes of the blood-soaked thriller starts with Gi‑hun (also known as Player 456), presumed dead by the remaining players, who awakens in a coffin — a resurrection moment with parallels to Jesus. As Reddit users have pointed out, this symbolism only intensifies in the finale, where Gi‑hun stakes his life in a sacrificial gamble: He dies saving Jun‑hee’s baby. As a result, the baby wins the games.
The series ends with Gi‑hun plunging to his death after he is willingly to make the ultimate sacrifice in an attempt to upend the system.
As contestants are eliminated with each round, more beds in the players’ sleeping quarters are cleared out, revealing writing and symbols on the walls behind the beds. Near the end, it is revealed that one wall has the letters “HODIE MIHI.” On another, it reads, “CRAS TIBI.”
The letters form the Latin phrase “hodie mihi, cras tibi,” which translates to “today it’s me, tomorrow it will be you.” The phrase has been found inscribed on many medieval tombstones, highlighting the fragility of life.
Another religious symbol – a cross – belonging to Thanos is where he stores his drugs. Even after his death, other players use it as a way to try and escape the bloody reality around them. The cross is an escape from reality for these players, but it all means death once the pills run out.
The final season is also critical of religion. While Season 1 was loaded with messages about South Korean society’s relationship with Christianity and Season 2 had a focus on shamanism (as did Season 3), this latest installment of “Squid Game” places an emphasis on sacrifice.
There are a myriad of examples: A pregnant player, a mother killing her son to secure a newborn’s survival and Gi‑hun’s ultimate death underscore one of the Old Testament’s darkest stories: Abraham’s near-sacrifice of Isaac. Though twisted, this moment reflects the grim theology of sacrificing one for the many.
Another storyline, such as the brotherly violence between In‑ho, who is also known as the Front Man, and Jun‑ho, mirrors the biblical archetypes of fraternal evil between Cain and Abel. The relationship between the two is very complicated — so much so that there are numerous Tik Tok videos out there trying to explain it — and stretches as far back as Series 1.
By the third season, Gi‑hun has transformed from a debt-ridden loser to a reluctant messianic figure. His faith in people is tested again and again through betrayal and struggle. His ultimate death, however, marks both a failure and a moral victory.
“I initially vaguely considered a storyline where Gi-hun would survive with a few other contestants and eventually go to meet his daughter in the U.S. But I reconsidered what story I really wanted to tell with this project and felt that Gi-hun's journey should end here,” Hwang told The Korea Times.
He added that “ultimately, this project is about the world we live in. Economic inequality has worsened since I made Season 1, the lives of ordinary people have become more difficult and wars show no signs of ending. Yet, people seem to lack the ability or will to fix this situation. It feels like a truly more bleak future is coming and I thought I needed to tell that story, which led me to devise the current ending.”
In the end, the corrupt system has been exposed, but the organizers and the ultra-wealthy VIPs leave unscathed. There is no “eat the rich” moment. Their punishment doesn’t happen in this world, but quite possibly the next.
Clemente Lisi is the executive editor of Religion Unplugged.