After 'Squid Game,' world sees Korea differently

Last weekend, a "Squid Game" parade brought downtown Seoul to a standstill as the final episodes of the global hit's third and final season dropped. Giant floats of the menacing Young-hee doll and nostalgic "dalgona" candy, as well as legions of pink-suited guards, rolled through the streets. It felt like a scene out of fiction, but instead, it was a reminder of how a Korean drama has evolved into a full-fledged global phenomenon.

When I first saw that "Squid Game" had become Netflix’s most-watched series of all time, I initially assumed it meant the most-watched among Korean titles. But no — it surpassed global hits such as "Wednesday," "Stranger Things" and "Bridgerton." A Korean series, in the Korean language, outpaced English-language juggernauts to become a household name worldwide. Even now, the scale of its success feels almost surreal.

“Squid Game” didn’t just dominate entertainment headlines. It marked a turning point in the history of global content. More than a hit, it cracked open the cultural hegemony long dominated by English-speaking productions. It proved that a non-English-language series could not only compete but win on the world stage, and in doing so, it attracted a wave of international investment in Korean content. The ripple effect extends beyond the screen, influencing platform strategies, merchandising and even city branding.

What made this leap possible? One crucial factor is the rise of global streaming platforms such as Netflix. Unlike traditional broadcasters, Netflix does not require content to pass through language or regional filters to reach a global audience. Its algorithm recommends content based on interest rather than geography, allowing a Korean drama like “Squid Game” to land instantly on millions of screens across the world. The platform’s investment in Korean originals — motivated by strong domestic viewership and international buzz — accelerated the globalization of Korean storytelling.

The shift is happening on the awards circuit, too. Historically, institutions like the Academy Awards have been slow to embrace works in languages besides English. But in recent years, the tide has turned. "Parasite" made history in 2020 as the first non-English-language film to win Best Picture at the Oscars.

Just last month, I covered the Tony triumph of "Maybe Happy Ending," a musical co-created by Korean writer Hue Park and American composer Will Aronson. Premiering in a small theater in Seoul’s Daehangno theater district a decade ago, the show defied all odds to win six Tony awards, including Best Musical, Best Original Score and Best Book.

Unlike many shows that localize to appeal to Western audiences, the musical retained its Korean identity all the way to Broadway. Seoul and Jeju Island remained important settings, its robot protagonist’s best friend is still called "HwaBoon" (the Korean word for flowerpot) and the Korean alphabet, Hangeul, appears in the show’s design. Park once feared these elements might alienate American audiences, but instead they became part of the show’s unique charm.

I believe this kind of acceptance was made possible by a growing global interest and affection toward Korean culture. As someone whose office is in downtown Seoul, I notice more foreign visitors than ever. I haven’t asked them all why they’re here, but it feels natural to suspect that the allure of Korean pop culture — whether BTS, "Squid Game" or something quieter like "Maybe Happy Ending" — has drawn many of them.

So where do we go from here? Can Korea replicate the success of “Squid Game” or “Maybe Happy Ending”?

According to a recent report by K-EnterTech Hub, the success of "Squid Game" stems from a mix of universal themes, original storytelling, strong performances and direction and the strong support of a global platform. While Korea has produced other major hits since, none have quite matched its scale.

"Maybe Happy Ending" also presents a unique case. The production's bilingual, bicultural DNA — written from the start with both Korean and English-language productions in mind — is hard to replicate. Park and Aronson’s ability to write and work fluently across both languages was integral to the show’s success. This kind of collaboration is a model, but it also raises the bar for others hoping to follow.

The final chapter of "Squid Game" feels like both an ending and a beginning. Korea is no longer on the sidelines of global entertainment.

As global recognition grows, more creators are consciously tuning into international tastes and standards, making Korean stories more broadly appealing. But there’s a fine line to tread: placing too much emphasis on global expectations risks diluting the very "Koreanness" that drew in audiences in the first place. The challenge ahead is not to smooth out those edges, but to embrace them. What’s most local, when told with honesty and skill, often speaks the loudest to the world.

Kwon Mee-yoo is editor of K-Culture Desk at The Korea Times.