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The ending is horrible I can't even describe how bad the ending and the season overall even though if people call it realistic that's just a dumb excuse for changing literally almost every character and their personalities Example: Dae-ho isn't a guy who wants to get out of the game in the third season he is just a pathetic liar, they don't had to do a season 2 but I guess "money talk's" and the show was getting worse and worse after season 1 They were parts I liked Example:the detective storyline But this season is so bad people in the fandom aren't even talking about it, I remember when season 1 aired it was fricking huge, then season 2 came not a while ago and it was pretty huge too but not as season 1 but it was still massive And we have season 3 which is boring straight up hate the fandom and the characters it's so bad just another ruined franchise.

Episode 5 of the final season is by far the weakest of Squid Game. The sudden decision of the players to start killing each other feels forced and unearned. What made the show powerful - slow tension, moral struggle - is completely missing here.

The protagonist, instead of facing real consequences or showing growth, comes across as a coward who somehow always survives thanks to plot armor. His choices make little sense, and yet the story keeps bending to protect him.

This episode turns what was a gripping, morally complex series into cheap, empty violence. A disappointing low point that betrays the heart of Squid Game.

The fifth episode of Squid Game Season 3, titled "Circle Triangle Square", directed and created by Hwang Dong-hyuk, is a gripping and emotionally charged chapter that escalates the narrative tension while delving deep into the themes of morality, desperation, and alliance within the merciless framework of the games. This episode stands out for its exploration of human cruelty and compassion under extreme pressure, marked by strategic cruelty, heartbreaking betrayals, and moments of fierce protection.

The episode opens with the dwindling group of survivors-including Gi-hun, No-eul, and the baby-ascending to the pinnacle of the games: a brutal contest played atop three towering pillars shaped like the symbolic Triangle, Circle, and Square. This final stage requires players to push opponents off these precarious platforms, ensuring at least one survivor on each tower to progress. The stakes are stark and unforgiving, visually emphasized by the vertiginous heights and the ominous countdown clock that looms over the competition.

The narrative intensity is sustained through the players' harrowing deliberations on whom to eliminate. The democratic voting mechanism pits survival instincts against ethical debates, as players argue over the fate of the vulnerable baby and the physically and psychologically weakened amongst them. The intricate group dynamics, alliances, and power plays come to a head in this crucible, with Myung-gi subtly seizing control to manipulate decisions for his own strategic advantage. His callous suggestion to eliminate Min-su first introduces a chilling tactical coldness that exemplifies the show's brutal social commentary on self-interest and moral decay.

Gi-hun emerges as a resolute protector and hopeful conscience in this maelstrom of self-preservation and treachery. His refusal to betray the baby and his guerrilla defense against attackers underscore both his evolution as a character and his enduring struggle to maintain humanity amid pervasive ruthlessness. The emotional weight of these moments is captured with close, intense cinematography and thoughtful pacing, allowing the audience to viscerally connect with the players' fear, despair, and determination.

Among the episode's most heart-wrenching scenes is the forced sacrifice of Min-su, whose character arc from vulnerability to tragic demise embodies the corrosive effects of desperation and exclusion. The juxtaposition of innocent childhood symbols with lethal violence continues to haunt the visual storytelling, deepening the narrative's exploration of innocence corrupted by systemic cruelty.

Technically, the episode excels in its dynamic direction, fluid editing, and atmospheric sound design. The interplay between wide, dizzying shots of the pillars and claustrophobic close-ups of tense faces creates a palpable tension throughout the episode. Sound is used sparingly but effectively, from the stark silence of the deadly heights to the sudden, jarring impact of betrayal and violence. The pastel colors and surreal aesthetic continue to contrast sharply with the grim reality unfolding, reinforcing the grotesque duality at the series' core.

Performances are compelling and layered. Lee Jung-jae's Gi-hun conveys a complex mix of weariness, resolve, and protective instinct that anchors the episode emotionally. The supporting cast delivers nuanced portrayals of fear, cunning, and betrayal, enriching the tense social fabric and heightening the stakes of each decision and confrontation.

Yet, some critics and viewers have expressed reservations about pacing and character development, pointing out moments where strategic shifts feel rushed or characters' motivations waver under the weight of plot demands. The moral deliberations, while powerful, at times lapse into predictability in the context of the broader franchise. Still, these criticisms do little to overshadow the episode's intense emotional and narrative thrust.

"Circle Triangle Square" continues Squid Game's tradition of incisive social critique, reflecting on power disparities, the fragility of trust, and the brutal calculus imposed by capitalist and authoritarian structures. The voting and elimination process serve as allegories for real-world political dynamics, illustrating how democratic mechanisms can be manipulated to justify exclusion and violence. The episode's symbolic use of childhood imagery, combined with visceral survival drama, situates it firmly within dystopian cultural discourse, drawing parallels to works such as Battle Royale while articulating a distinctly Korean viewpoint.

The episode five of Squid Game Season 3 is a masterful confrontation with the darkest facets of human nature under siege. Through intricate character interplay, high-stakes conflict, and a potent thematic core, it forces viewers to grapple with uncomfortable truths about morality, power, and survival. Despite minor narrative unevenness, the episode's emotional resonance, aesthetic sophistication, and narrative ambition secure its place as a crucial, unforgettable chapter in the series. It challenges us not merely to witness a game of life and death but to reflect on the systems of cruelty and complicity that shape our world.