Before Squid Game season 2 came out, one of the major topics of conversation was that it would feature a trans woman, played by Park Sung-hoon, a cisgender male. There was a lot of debate around different issues, from people who don’t want to see trans people on their televisions at all, from allies or trans people who were uncomfortable with a cis man playing a trans woman, and those with a trope-first view of art questioning why the show would willingly subject a trans woman to violence.
Spoilers follow for Squid Game Season 2
I never felt like the first or last point was worth much consideration. Trans people exist, and transitioning is expensive and isolating, especially in South Korea (a full breakdown of statistics is available in the article linked above). It stands to reason that a trans person would be desperate enough to play Squid Game, and if you can’t handle art about minorities that depicts the desperation and violence they face, you should probably stick to watching television via TikTok shorts.
The Casting Should Not Be An Issue
However, the casting of a cisgender man was more nuanced. I always felt that, given the lack of available out trans women in South Korea (an issue discussed in the show, and confirmed by the showrunner in an interview in which he describes the reality as “heartbreaking”), it was either ‘cast a cis man or cut the character’. The former was always the better option.
Of course, they could have cast a cis woman, but the whole point of Player 120 is that she is playing for surgery money. She still feels as though she looks like a man. As a trans person, that’s a lot more relatable than Nikita Dragun walking the runway or Hunter Schafer looking gorgeous on the red carpet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more realistic version of my own experience than the flicker of upper lip shadow glinting through Player 120’s sweated-off foundation, or the way she shrinks away and slumps her shoulders as people look at her.
The first way the casting of a cis man could have gone wrong is by making her a figure of fun. Squid Game clearly does not do that – while our introduction to her is an older woman enquiring aloud “is that a man or a woman?” (another pretty realistic moment), her son shushes her and the three of them end up working together. Player 120 is not there to be the butt of the joke, but to highlight the different forms of desperation people face in modern society.
Player 120 Is A Nuanced Transgender Hero
However, another way it could have gone wrong is by pitying her. This is a mistake a lot of media by trans allies makes, possibly in part because of the mindset that suggests putting a trans woman in Squid Game at all is a hateful act of Kill Your Gays. Player 120 is undoubtedly a sympathetic character, but then, pretty much everyone who is not an outrageous villain like Thanos is sympathetic. They are willingly risking their lives in bloodsport versions of children’s games to pay off some debts.
But she is not just there to make us feel sorry for her. In the six legged race, she is the leader of the group, driving them forward and offering constant encouragement. In Mingle, she runs the numbers every time, ensuring the team is protected and putting herself in danger to save others. It later emerges that she was an army sergeant, kicked out for her transition, and when they launch the armed assault on the game masters, Player 120 leads her squad valiantly.
That could introduce another problem – if you have a character who takes charge, served in the military, and barks orders at everyone, then you’re just writing a man in a wig, the very thing the show was instantly accused of when casting a cis man to play her. But there is so much tenderness to Player 120 that it never feels that way. Her shyness in social situations that don’t call for militaristic direction, her clear discomfort with her own body as she shifts her shoulders and anxiously squeezes her palms, and her tragic friendship with Player 095 all make Player 120 a far more rounded character.
Perhaps the best example of this is when Player 120 explains she needed people to look away because she doesn’t feel “done” yet, and Player 095 tells her she is “already beautiful”. She begins to cry, and part of me thinks the reason she cries is because she knows Player 095 is lying to her. Not lying to be cruel, but lying to be kind. Maybe it was written as if this is a genuine compliment, or even a reflection of Player 120’s inner beauty as a caring soul. But it moved me because it felt like yet another step in Player 120 getting there, but still not quite being done.
There were so many ways for Squid Game’s decision to include a trans character to go wrong, and it gracefully side-steps all of them. In doing so, it becomes one of the most interesting and valuable depictions of a trans woman on television, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds for Player 120.
- Release Date
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September 17, 2021
- Writers
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Hwang Dong-hyuk
- Directors
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Hwang Dong-hyuk