You probably don't remember his face clearly. Honestly, most people don't. When we talk about Squid Game, the conversation usually orbits around Lee Jung-jae or the heartbreaking performance of Hoyeon Jung. But the beauty of the show—and the reason it became a global fever dream—was the background noise. The numbers. Those green-tracksuited "extras" who weren't just props, but the literal body count that gave the stakes their weight.
So, let's talk about the man behind the number. Who played player 120 in Squid Game? That would be Kim Yun-tae.
He isn't a household name in the West. He’s one of those seasoned South Korean actors who has spent years in the trenches of the industry, doing the hard work in the background of major productions. In a show where 456 people start a deadly game, most are destined to be a blur of motion before a gunshot rings out. Yet, Kim Yun-tae’s presence as Player 120 provides a specific, gritty texture to the early episodes that helped ground the show’s impossible premise in a very dark reality.
The Face Behind the Number: Kim Yun-tae’s Role
Kim Yun-tae is a veteran. He’s been around. If you’re a fan of K-dramas or Korean cinema, you’ve likely seen him before, even if you didn't realize it. He’s appeared in projects like The King: Eternal Monarch and Delayed Justice. In Squid Game, he was tasked with being one of the many desperate souls who returned to the island after the initial vote to leave.
Player 120 doesn't have a massive redemption arc. He doesn't get a marble scene that makes the entire world cry. Instead, he represents the "everyman" of the debt crisis.
Think about the atmosphere on that set. Director Hwang Dong-hyuk has spoken at length about the grueling conditions—the dust, the heat, the repetitive takes of Red Light, Green Light. Kim Yun-tae had to embody the sheer, paralyzed terror of a man realizing that he's traded his dignity for a 1-in-456 chance at survival. It's a specific kind of acting. You’re not the lead, so you can’t chew the scenery. You have to be part of a collective "vibe" of hopelessness.
He did it perfectly.
🔗 Read more: Love Island UK Who Is Still Together: The Reality of Romance After the Villa
Why Player 120 Actually Matters to the Plot
It’s easy to dismiss the lower-numbered players or those who exit early. But look at the math. The show’s internal logic relies on the audience believing that every single person there is a real human with a crushing debt.
Kim Yun-tae’s Player 120 is part of the "Middle Class" of the game. He survived the first bloodbath. He made the choice—the active, terrifying choice—to go back into the facility. This is the core theme of Squid Game. It’s not just about a game; it’s about the fact that for many people, the "real world" is actually worse than a game where you might get shot in the head.
When we see the wide shots of the players standing in line, the casting directors needed people like Kim. Actors who look like they’ve lived a life. Actors who don’t look like K-pop idols. His face carries a certain weariness that makes the stakes feel heavy.
A Career in the Shadows
Kim Yun-tae's career is a fascinating look at how the South Korean "supporting actor" ecosystem works. He’s a "bit-part" specialist. In Hollywood, we have character actors like Stephen Root or M. Emmet Walsh. In Korea, actors like Kim are the glue of the industry.
He’s appeared in:
- The King: Eternal Monarch (2020)
- Delayed Justice (2020)
- Squid Game (2021)
- Various minor roles in police procedurals and historical dramas.
He’s the guy you see playing the worried father, the stern police captain, or, in this case, a man desperate enough to play a game of death.
💡 You might also like: Gwendoline Butler Dead in a Row: Why This 1957 Mystery Still Packs a Punch
The Viral Nature of "Minor" Characters
Why do people even ask about Player 120? It’s a weird quirk of modern fandom. Because Squid Game became such a massive cultural phenomenon, fans started cataloging every single player. It became a sort of digital scavenger hunt.
There’s a strange irony here. The show is a critique of how the wealthy treat the poor as interchangeable numbers. Then, the internet turned around and spent months trying to find the real names of every "number" in the show. Kim Yun-tae became a person of interest precisely because the show was so good at making us care about the group as a whole.
People on Reddit and Twitter (now X) started deep-diving into the credits. They wanted to know who the guy was in the background of the bunk bed scenes. They wanted to know who was standing next to Gi-hun in the hallway.
The Reality of Being an Extra in a Global Hit
Being an actor like Kim Yun-tae in a show like Squid Game is a double-edged sword. On one hand, you’re part of the most-watched Netflix series of all time. That’s a massive resume builder. On the other hand, you’re literally a number.
The pay for background and supporting players in these massive productions is often modest. While the leads see their Instagram followers jump by 20 million overnight, the supporting cast often returns to the grind of auditioning for the next procedural or commercial.
However, Kim Yun-tae has used his steady work to build a respectable, long-term career. He isn't a "flash in the pan." He’s a professional. He showed up, wore the green tracksuit, hit his marks, and helped build the most immersive world in television history.
📖 Related: Why ASAP Rocky F kin Problems Still Runs the Club Over a Decade Later
How to Spot Him Next Time You Rewatch
If you’re going back through for a rewatch before the new season drops, keep an eye out during the "Sugar Honeycombs" episode. That’s where the tension really starts to fracture the group.
You’ll see Kim Yun-tae in the background of the main dormitory. He’s usually grouped with the "older" demographic of players—those who aren't part of the main "strong" alliance but are trying to fly under the radar.
It’s subtle work. It’s the way he shifts his weight. The way he looks at the guards. It’s all part of the world-building.
The Legacy of Player 120
In the end, Kim Yun-tae’s contribution to Squid Game is a reminder that there are no small roles. Without the 400+ actors who filled those tracksuits, the show would have felt empty. It would have felt like a stage play.
Instead, it felt like a massacre.
Kim Yun-tae brought a level of professional realism to Player 120. He wasn't there to be a star; he was there to be a victim of a cruel system. And in doing so, he made the system feel that much more terrifying for the rest of us watching from the safety of our couches.
What You Should Do Now
If you’re interested in the deeper mechanics of the show or the actors who made it happen, here’s how to dive deeper:
- Check out his filmography: Look up Kim Yun-tae on MyDramaList or HanCinema. You’ll see just how much he’s actually done. It’s an impressive list of "that guy" roles.
- Watch the 'Making Of' specials: Netflix released several behind-the-scenes looks at the production. You can see the scale of the choreography required for the hundreds of players. It gives you a new appreciation for the supporting cast.
- Pay attention to the credits: Next time you watch a K-drama, don't just skip to the next episode. Look at the names. Actors like Kim Yun-tae are the backbone of the "Hallyu" wave that is taking over global entertainment.
Kim Yun-tae might have just been Player 120 to the Front Man, but to the fans of the show, he’s a piece of the puzzle that made Squid Game an unforgettable piece of television history. He represents the nameless faces we often ignore in real life, finally getting a bit of the spotlight they deserve.