Elon Musk Inspired the Masked VIP Villains in Squid Game, Says Creator of Hit Netflix Series | HO!!!!

LOS ANGELES, CA — When the third and final season of Squid Game dropped on Netflix this weekend, fans were bracing for more of the show’s trademark brutality and social commentary. But few expected the series’ creator, Hwang Dong-hyuk, to pull back the curtain on the real-life inspiration for the show’s most chilling antagonists: the masked VIPs who orchestrate the deadly games.

In a candid interview following the release, Hwang revealed that none other than Elon Musk—the world’s richest man and arguably its most controversial tech titan—served as a key muse for the show’s grotesquely powerful villains.

“Elon Musk is everywhere these days, right?” Hwang mused, referencing the Tesla and SpaceX CEO’s omnipresence in global headlines. “Not only is he the head of a huge tech company that controls the world almost, but he’s also this showman.” That duality, Hwang explained, is at the very core of the VIPs: figures of immense, unchecked power who not only pull the strings from behind the scenes but also relish the spectacle of their own dominance.

From the Shadows to Center Stage

The VIPs—first introduced in Season 1 as a cabal of English-speaking billionaires who gamble on the lives of desperate contestants—have always been a focal point of the show’s critique of wealth and power. But in Season 3, released June 27, Hwang takes their role to new extremes. No longer content to simply watch, the VIPs step out from behind their gilded masks, don the signature pink uniforms of the game’s soldiers, and participate in the violence themselves.

This narrative shift, Hwang says, was directly inspired by what he sees as a real-world transformation among the global elite. “In the past, those that really controlled the system and maintained power, they were hidden behind the curtain, almost like this big unseen conspiracy,” he said. “However, it’s no longer the case, especially in America.

These so-called big tech owners, they step up, telling everyone who they’re backing with their money. The people who really control the power and the system, they no longer hide behind a curtain. They willingly take their masks off, almost as if to declare, ‘We’re the ones running everything. We’re the ones in control.’”

While Hwang insists that the VIPs were not initially modeled on any specific individuals, he admits that by the end of Season 3, it was impossible not to see Musk’s shadow looming over the characters. “After writing [Season 3], of course I thought, ‘Oh, some of the VIPs do kind of resemble Elon Musk,’” he said. The resemblance, as Hwang describes it, is both unintentional and inescapable—a reflection of how fiction and reality have begun to mirror each other in unsettling ways.

The Billionaire Archetype: From Bezos to Musk

The timing of Squid Game’s finale is more than coincidental. The world’s billionaire class has ballooned in both number and influence over the past five years. In 2020, when the first season was filmed, there were roughly 2,000 billionaires with a collective $8 trillion in wealth. By 2025, that number has surpassed 3,000, with their combined fortunes doubling to over $16 trillion—more than the GDP of every country except the United States and China.

Musk’s personal fortune, estimated at $412 billion, eclipses the economies of entire nations. He is not merely a CEO; he is an unelected global force, shaping markets, influencing politics, and dominating headlines. As Hwang notes, “He’s the very definition of a VIP—one with the power to shape lives, economies, and cultures, all while making a spectacle of it.”

This spectacle is not limited to Musk. The decadence of the elite was on full display during Jeff Bezos’s $46 million Venice wedding, which coincided with the release of Squid Game’s final season. Nearly 90 private jets ferried guests to the event, a scene that could have been lifted straight from the show’s most opulent set pieces.

But it is Musk’s unique blend of technological ambition, performative dominance, and disregard for convention that makes him the archetype for the modern VIP villain. Whether he’s mocking regulators, swinging the price of cryptocurrencies with a single tweet, or inserting himself into global political debates, Musk embodies the unmasked elite—no longer content to operate from the shadows.

From Passive to Active: The VIPs Take the Stage

In Squid Game Season 3, the VIPs’ evolution from passive spectators to active participants is more than just a narrative device. It is a pointed commentary on how today’s billionaires are no longer satisfied with indirect influence. They seek visibility, control, and, increasingly, direct involvement—even if it means getting their hands dirty.

“They take their masks off and go into the game and kill others with their own hands,” Hwang explains. The metaphor is uncomfortably literal: the ultra-wealthy are no longer content to watch—they want to play, to dominate, to win.

This shift is echoed in the real world, where billionaires fund political campaigns, shape public policy, and use social media platforms (often ones they own) to sway public opinion. Musk, now the largest campaign donor to Donald Trump and a relentless critic of regulation, straddles every axis of influence. His actions have real consequences for markets, governments, and ordinary people.

The Real Game: Wealth, Power, and Spectacle

At its heart, Squid Game has always been about the desperate, the indebted, and the marginalized—those forced to risk everything for a chance at survival in a system rigged against them. The VIPs, and the world they inhabit, are a scathing indictment of the global wealth gap. As Hwang puts it, “The gap between the ultra-wealthy and the working poor is not only astronomical—it’s grotesque.”

The show’s central thesis is clear: the true villains are not the players forced into impossible choices, but the billionaires who create and profit from the game. In Season 1, the character Oh Il-nam—disguised as an ordinary contestant—is revealed to be the game’s founder, playing for amusement born of boredom and excess. By Season 3, the creators of the game no longer hide. They act without pretense, their faces and motives exposed.

This transparency is mirrored in our world, where billionaires tweet their way into political firestorms, dismantle companies, and toy with public narratives as easily as flipping a switch. Musk, in particular, has mastered this performance—daring the world to stop him even as he pushes the boundaries of power and influence.

Fiction Reflects Reality

Hwang’s earlier reflections pointed to the unintended resemblance between the VIPs and Donald Trump, the richest man to ever hold the U.S. presidency. But as the series evolved, so did its parallels to Musk—a man many see as Trump’s successor in both tech and spectacle. Both are showmen who bend the rules and polarize the world with every decision.

While Hwang maintains that the VIPs were never directly based on any one person, the increasing alignment with recognizable figures is no accident. “Fiction, after all, reflects truth. And in 2025, the truth is more dystopian than ever,” he said.

The Game Is Everywhere

As acclaimed director David Fincher prepares a U.S. remake of Squid Game, Hwang’s metaphor is likely to gain even sharper focus. In a society where billionaires dominate elections, fund wars of information, and elevate themselves to mythic status, the show’s warning is impossible to ignore.

The game, it seems, is no longer confined to a fictional island. It plays out in boardrooms, on social media, in political arenas, and in the living rooms of viewers, many of whom wonder what they would risk for a chance to escape crushing debt.

Squid Game teaches us that the true monsters are not those forced to play, but those who build the game—and profit from it. If the face behind the golden mask starts to resemble one we see on the news every day, that’s no accident. That’s the point.

A Final Word: The Mask Comes Off

As the credits roll on Squid Game’s final season, the line between fiction and reality has never been thinner. Hwang’s revelation that Elon Musk inspired the show’s most sinister characters is a chilling reminder of the world we now inhabit—one where the powerful no longer hide, and where the games they play have never been deadlier, or more real.