How often can it be said that the second instalment of a franchise is better than the first?

In entertainment, few phenomena are as common—or as cursed—as the sequel. Creators often try to replicate the magic of a successful original, only to discover that lightning rarely strikes the same place twice. While sequels may promise better plotlines and more drama, they frequently fall short of capturing the essence that made the original so popular among audiences. 

Take Netflix’s Squid Game, for example. The South Korean drama captivated millions with its depiction of desperation, morality and survival. It wasn’t just the violence; it was the emotional depth and sharp social commentary. When a second season was announced, fans were excited but also apprehensive, wondering if it could match the gut-punch impact of the original. 

Unfortunately, Season 2 fell short. It lacked the raw intensity and emotional depth that made the first season compelling. The grander plots couldn’t mask the fact that the storytelling lacked fresh energy and insight into societal issues. Instead of expanding on nuanced characters, the second season felt like a rehash of familiar tropes, relying too heavily on shock value. 

As characters faced brutal games, many seemed strangely nonchalant about the life-and-death stakes, unlike the raw desperation in Season 1. UX student Owen McKinnon pointed out, “The actors in Season 2 seemed more like they were going through the motions, while the people in Mr. Beast’s Squid Game parody were more worried for their lives.” McKinnon also said that “participants in the parody often felt physically unsafe due to poor safety precautions. Many of the women involved in the parody expressed feeling threatened by the way men grouped together against them, creating an environment that felt far more dangerous than it should have been.” This contrast further contributed to the feeling that the stakes in Season 2 were not as intense, and the emotional weight of the original’s social commentary was lost amidst the spectacle. 

“I believe that sequels never live up to the original,” said Ghina Dandach, a first year criminology student, “because people want more and more of that original book or show and writers don’t know how to continue that story because it was never planned, and the consumer doesn’t know what they really want; they just want more of the story, but obviously, the story will not be the same.” 

History suggests that sequels often struggle with the weight of their expectations. For instance, The Matrix trilogy’s second and third installments never recaptured the groundbreaking brilliance of the original. Similarly, films like Frozen II and Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom added spectacle but lacked the emotional authenticity and innovative spark of their predecessors. Audiences don’t just want “more”; they want the same lightning-in-a-bottle feeling they had the first time—something that’s almost impossible to recreate. 

Why is this the case? It’s often because the original is a labour of love, created without the burden of massive fan expectations. Sequels, on the other hand, are burdened by the need to outdo the first—a task that often leads to overreliance on nostalgia. 

This isn’t to say sequels are doomed to fail. Films like Toy Story 3 or The Godfather Part II, have managed to enhance their stories while respecting the original, but these are rare exceptions. Sequels like these give viewers hope that they are not all destined to disappoint. 

This story was originally published in Volume 24, Issue 6 on February 6, 2025