Squid Game’s Creator Dreamed Up a Happy Ending. Then He Thought Better of It

Though Netflix’s most-watched series ever has come to a close, Squid Game’s shocking finale might have left many viewers with lingering questions. The show’s creator, writer and director Hwang Dong-hyuk, has said that while he wrote the first draft of seasons two and three in only six months, he revised the scripts constantly as he went along, completely changing the series’ ending.

In a lengthy and revealing interview, Hwang breaks down the finale he landed on, shares details about the alternate ending he originally had in mind, and explains the thought process behind some of the final episode’s most surprising and significant moments. Throughout our conversation, it’s clear that he’s pondered the thorniest issues facing society today—and found creative ways to weave critique into the finale, from the game’s design to the drastic decisions made by some of the characters. (Director Hwang responded to questions in Korean; though he was joined by an interpreter, the answers below are a combination of the interpreter’s words and my own direct translation.)

Vanity Fair: Why did you end the show the way you did, with Gi-hun choosing to sacrifice himself to save the baby, and also the final scene taking place in LA?

In the beginning, when I was just vaguely thinking about seasons two and three, I thought of an ending where Gi-hun makes it out of the games alive and goes to see his daughter in the US. So it was kind of a happy ending. But once I actually started writing, I got to thinking more and more about what it is that I wanted to say through this show. What kind of message should I be sending to the world? And that’s when I felt the current ending would be more appropriate.

I felt that the world had gotten even worse compared to when I was working on season one. Economic inequality was getting worse; there were no real solutions being offered for the climate crisis; the threat of war was growing in various parts of the world; and the number of vulnerable people falling outside the social safety net was increasing. It felt like the younger generations were losing more and more hope for the future.

So as part of the older generation, I thought that in order to leave a better world for future generations, it was time for us to put a halt to our incessant greed and selfishness—at least to some extent. I felt it was time for us to make sacrifices and start thinking seriously about how we can create a better future.

So that was the reason behind having a baby be a part of the story. The baby symbolizes hope and the future generation. By having Gi-hun, a member of the older generation, sacrifice himself to save that child, I wanted to convey the idea that this is how we must look at giving the future generation a better world. I felt that was the most suitable ending for this show.

You told Variety that when you were thinking about the finale, you initially had Gi-hun making the “exact opposite choice.” Does that mean you were originally envisioning that Gi-hun would sacrifice the baby to save himself?

No, no. [laughs] It wasn’t about any particular choice [that Gi-hun makes], but about the alternate ending. I just meant that I initially envisioned a happy ending where he survives and goes to see his daughter, which is the complete opposite of the current ending.

Can you talk a bit more about that original ending that you had in mind? Was Gi-hun the sole survivor again?

The ending wasn’t about him being the sole survivor again. I had a vague idea that Gi-hun and a few of the other major characters—and maybe including the baby as well—would survive and leave the island. I imagined Jun-ho and the police arriving at the right time during the final game and, instead of Gi-hun ending the game on his own, he’d do it with the help of others.

Were there any other alternate endings that you were thinking of?

I don’t think I seriously contemplated any other alternate ending. It was between those two.

Going back to the way the finale actually ended, why did you decide that Myung-gi, his baby, and Gi-hun would be the last three players standing? And why is Myung-gi willing to kill his own baby?

Well, actually, Myung-gi was trying to save the child right up until the final moment. He had been doing everything he could to manipulate others so that he could save the baby. His final plan was probably to take the “Lunchbox” guy along with him across the bridge and kill him so he wouldn’t have to sacrifice the baby. I don’t think he ever considered sacrificing his baby up to that point.

But when “Lunchbox” kills himself, that leaves only the three of them, and Myung-gi is someone who has absolutely zero trust in other people. He thinks that everybody else is just as selfish as he is, if not more. So once the three of them cross that bridge, he believes that Gi-hun will certainly try to kill him and escape with the child.

He’s consumed by this belief, and so the only thing he’s focused on is making sure Gi-hun doesn’t cross over. For him, stopping Gi-hun means that the child has to be there [in the last round]—only then can he kill someone and become the winner. These calculations are all running through his head extremely fast. So the safest way for him to survive, in his mind, is to keep Gi-hun from crossing and to sacrifice his child.

For Myung-gi, sacrificing himself isn’t even an option, and he doesn’t trust anybody else. I think he becomes trapped in this unfortunate mentality, and that’s what leads him to make that conclusion. And he even goes so far as to doubt that the baby is his. I thought of his character as someone who—because of his greed, his calculations, and his deep distrust of other people—is entangled in a tragic inner struggle, and gets caught in a downward spiral that ultimately leads to his downfall.

Why did you have the series end in LA? Is it so that a rumored American spin-off by David Fincher can be made?

[laughs] No. I wanted to show a scene where the Front Man delivers Gi-hun’s belongings to Ga-yeong, Gi-hun’s daughter. You hear her voice through the phone, but you never get to see her in seasons two and three. So I really wanted to show her on screen, and I also wanted to have Gi-hun’s tracksuit and remaining money be handed over to her. So instead of Gi-hun going to LA, I had the Front Man going in his place.

As for the last scene, while the games in Korea have ended with the destruction of the game arena as a result of Gi-hun sacrificing himself, I wanted to highlight that the system isn’t easily dismantled—it doesn’t simply collapse just because one part of it is destroyed. I wanted to convey that in this late capitalist society, the system remains strong, deeply entrenched, and powerful—and that these kinds of games are still continuing in the US.

The girl who plays Ga-yeong—is she the same girl from season one?

Yes, she is.

Wow, that’s crazy!

They grew up!

She’s grown so much!

Same with Sae-byeok’s younger brother Cheol—when he appears at the airport at the end, he’s the same actor who played Cheol in season one.

But that was just four years ago!

[laughs] They grow fast!

Do you think the story that you envisioned for Squid Game is really complete now? Do you have any regrets about anything in Squid Game, anything that you wish you would have done differently?

Hmm, I’m not sure. I haven’t really thought about that. I just tried to create the best story I could within the limits of my abilities. Even if I were to do it all over again, I don’t think I’d make any major changes.

Why did you choose the Sky Squid Game as the final game? And what is the setting for that final game supposed to be?

I wanted the last game scene to look like a construction site. If you look at the walls, they’re like construction tarps that are used at actual construction sites. And you can also see a sign that says “Safety First.”

And you have those triangle, square and circle-shaped pillars that look like they’re old and starting to collapse. I thought of them as symbolizing the late-stage capitalist society that we live in. They’re structures that once stood tall and firm, but over time, they’ve begun to crack and crumble. So I wanted that space to reflect this system that’s starting to fall apart. Maybe it’s time for us to tear the system down and rebuild, or at least make repairs to it.

The Squid Game that’s played as the last game in season one was the version that we used to play as kids, but for the Sky Squid Game, I modified it slightly using the same shapes to create a new final game. The game is all about eliminating the weak, right? And I think that’s exactly how the real world operates. The weak are always the first to suffer in any kind of disaster—they’re the first to fall in the face of hardships. The current system is designed so that the strong survive. So that was the thinking behind the design of the final game.

Also, if you look at the walls of the empty dormitory before the final game begins—in season one, all the games were depicted on the walls. But in season two, you’ll see the words “Hodie Mihi Cras Tibi” written there. It’s a [Latin] phrase that can be seen on Roman-era tombstones, and it means something like, “Today it’s me, but tomorrow it will be you”—as in, “Today I die, but tomorrow it will be your turn.” And I interpreted that as a reminder to live humbly in this world. So I wanted to convey the lesson that although the weak might fall first, tomorrow it could be you.

I thought the “Safety First” sign was very ironic, so I made sure to highlight it. It’s written on all construction sites, but in reality, the priority is always about completing the work as fast and as cheap as possible, and that inevitably leads to many accidents and even deaths at construction sites.

Our world is exactly the same. We all say that we want to live in a society where everyone, including the vulnerable, feels safe and protected. But in reality, it’s not safety that we put first—it’s growth. We want more, and we want it as quickly as possible. So that’s what I wanted to show.

Who got access to the motel where Gi-hun had stored his money? Was it the Front Man, and if so, how did he get access?

Yes, it was the Front Man. The premise was that the Front Man already knew Gi-hun was there and had been monitoring his every move to some extent. So I imagine it was the Front Man who went in and took the money.

Gi-hun tells the Front Man: “We are not horses. We are humans. Humans are…” Why the horses metaphor, and what was the rest of Gi-hun’s sentence supposed to say?

I thought that it was very difficult to define what humans are in one or two words. [laughs] The more you live in this world, the more you realize that people can be so contradictory. Sometimes we can be extremely heartless and selfish, and at other times we can be compassionate and caring for others. Humans are so impossible to figure out, which is why I left the rest of that sentence blank.

But I also got to thinking that, you know, I think it’s not so much about what we are, but what we should be. And if we continue down this path of endless competition and growth, we are definitely headed for a very dark future. And so I think it’s time for all of us to stop this race to have more, and to start thinking about how we can leave behind a better world for future generations. Even if that means sacrificing some of our own comfort and gains.

In that sense, I wanted Gi-hun to complete that sentence with his action, rather than his words. By throwing himself off that pillar, he concluded his own sentence. And I hope that viewers can also take the time to think about what humans are or should be, and finish the sentence on their own.