Squid Game and the Hunger Games: Conclusions from a Venn Diagram

As far as the oval in the middle, I see scarcity-fueled desperation as shared by the two. In Squid Game, the scarcity is money. As the title implies, hunger is a primary driver in the Hunger Games. Recall that the potential tributes can have their name put in the hat multiple times and receive food for their families in return for putting the odds even less in their favor.

Both also feature an underdog protagonist but they change in opposite trajectories. Gi-hun is very unlikable at the beginning, but he starts to redeem himself as the games proceed. Katniss is instantly self-sacrificing (although she definitely doesn’t “save the cat”) but she becomes increasingly morally equivocal as the story continues, obviously hardened by the things she has to do and see. There’s also a group of people who enthusiastically watch both Games, completely indifferent to the fact they are viewing (and betting on) real human suffering and death. Squid Game is completely secret save for its contestants, guards/staff, and a small group of VIP’s (maybe not if the cop was able to send his photos – did anyone else think that guy gave James Bond a run for his money? He was probably my favorite character.) but the Hunger Games are mandatory viewing for all of Panem.

Let’s talk about the big differences. Squid Game involves adults playing children’s games to the death and the Hunger Games features children having to grow up immediately and face real threats from both conditions of the game and their fellow tributes. Squid Game is also voluntary and contestants can choose to end the game by majority vote, a far cry from the compulsory Hunger Games. Quickly becoming a classic in the YA dystopian genre, the Hunger Games is set in a distant future barely recognizable as what was once America. Squid Game takes place in modern-day South Korea, which brings me to perhaps the most striking feature: its verisimilitude. The characters are so relatable and we could totally picture normal people doing these things for a chance at that won-laden piggy bank suspended from the ceiling.

There is an abundance of substance in both of these stories, each depicting its own lack of abundance for certain strata of society and the forces that perpetuate and celebrate the divide.

A Case Study in 8-bit World-Building: Metroid

Metroid has amassed a whole canon of backstory in our present times but back in the late 1980’s, this was not the case.

Picture it…Peter Gabriel is serenading you via the cassette player in your Ford Taurus.  You stop at a pay phone to call your buddy who informs you they are playing their shiny new NES game, Metroid.  You tell them you will stop by after refueling for less than a dollar per gallon.

It’s the weird title screen music that draws you in, makes you want to press START.  A meager story follows…something about destroying the Mother Brain on the planet Zebeth.

Anachronistic juxtapositions abound in the world of Metroid.  Organic materials like stone and wood coexist with sleek metal, creating a world that is simultaneously futuristic and ancient but wholly alien.

And speaking of holy aliens, what’s with the bizarre statues that house your items and powerups?  Imagine a newly hatched bird (translucent flesh, closed eyes, no feathers) with an armor suit.  Were they worshipped by the departed denizens?  Or are they images of the inhabitants themselves?

There’s a variety of terrain and enemies in this underground realm of Zebeth, and locomotion has evolved to meet the landscape.  Music changes dramatically from a resounding hero’s theme to an alien, ambient collection of loosely affiliated sounds that always reminded me of Erik Satie in the way that it relaxingly unsettles.   

You can let your imagination go wild (remember, it hasn’t atrophied from googling) in a minimalist world-building scenario like this, one that provides more questions than answers.  It’s also one of the first video games to let you run around in a sequence determined only by items and hit points.  A mosaic of pixels from a bygone era, Metroid is a perfect example of a world that’s hinted at instead of explained.