You may already have heard good things about ‘The Last Man’, a new English language version of a Korean hit musical by Jishik Kim and Seungyeon Kwon, which is currently completing a run at Southwark Playhouse Elephant. 

This new production benefits from dramaturgy by Jethro Compton and direction from its original Korean director Daljung Kim. It’s a solo show, with two different actors – Nabi Brown and Lex Lee (pictured) – alternately performing. 

It’s about a solitary survivor of a global virus who has taken shelter in a bunker beneath the streets of Seoul, and we see how isolation warps their sense of reality as the weeks go on. 

To find out more about the show, I spoke to aforementioned director Daljung Kim. 

CM: Can you tell us about the narrative of ‘The Last Man’? Who is it about and what story does it tell? 
DK: While superficially framed as a zombie apocalypse, the show explores the deepest layers of human loneliness and the complex psychology of survival.

Set in a world ravaged by a zombie virus, the musical follows a single, unnamed character, the ‘Survivor’, who is isolated in a cramped basement bunker in Sillim-dong, Seoul.

They are the kind of person we see around us every day – who loves zombie movies and, even in despair, turns on his camera to film vlogs in a desperate yearning to stay connected with the world.

Because the character remains unnamed, I hoped that the audience could discover themselves in this character and naturally project their own memories of profound isolation and disconnection – feelings we have all experienced in modern society.

Trapped in a bleak zombie apocalypse, the Survivor fights for survival by hoarding supplies, growing potatoes in their bunker, and searching for CB radio signals. This process unfolds in a light-hearted and humorous manner, filled with playful and witty homages to pop culture.

However, the true core of this show lies in the coexistence of the real and the delusions. As the story unfolds, the audience is left questioning whether the zombies and the horror outside are actual threats, or if they are invisible walls erected by sheer isolation.

I have always been drawn to setups that trap characters both physically and psychologically, allowing extreme energy to accumulate and eventually explode. Using the zombie genre as a starting point, ‘The Last Man’ explores how far a human being can endure in the depths of absolute loneliness, and what keeps us surviving.

CM: What are the primary themes of the show? 
DK: Superficially, the show centres on surviving a zombie outbreak; in reality, it explores the darkest and most relatable corners of the modern mind.

One of the primary themes of the show is voluntary isolation and social alienation. Bunker B-103 – the main setting of the show – is a metaphor for the isolated flats of single-person households or those who have withdrawn from society.

The external threat of zombies represents internal anxieties – unbearable relationships, a stagnant society and the fear of failure. The apocalypse serves as a lens to view modern loneliness and isolations – both of which have become a grave issue in Korea lately.

At the same time, I wanted to address the value of courage and solidarity. The Survivor constantly wrestles with whether to open the bunker door and step outside. This is because stepping into the world by breaking through one’s ‘internal fear’ is far more terrifying than any external threat.

The climax of the show does not show a spectacular escape. Instead, it concludes with a song of solidarity, reaching out to someone else who might be isolated and hiding somewhere just like themselves.

I tried to deliver a message that loneliness is not a solitary burden, that we are bound by an invisible thread. I hoped this solidarity could give the courage to many ‘survivors’ around us to step outside their bunkers.

CM: How would you describe it in terms of a style or genre? 
DK: While on the surface the show seems like a zombie thriller, the core is a psychological human drama that relentlessly pursues the crumbling inner world of the character.

It seems to follow the conventional narrative of zombie genres, only to subvert them as the narrative drags the audience deep into the protagonist’s internal world. I wanted the audience to confront the psychological horror and tension of just how far loneliness can push a human being.

CM: Would you say the show is political? Does it have a specific message? 
DK: This show critiques the structural failures of our society. In this sense, I would gladly say yes – the show is political. As Carol Hanisch famously put it, I believe that “the personal is political”.

Bunker B-103 is not just a sanctuary from zombies. It is a space of social isolation made by relentless competition, youth unemployment, housing insecurity and the implicit societal pressure that one must succeed simply to survive.

As mentioned earlier, the zombies outside represent modern people cannibalising each other in the harsh reality where it is every man for himself. When the social safety net disappears and survival becomes a purely individual burden, the show has a political metaphor.

The message of this show is simple. No matter how dystopian the world may seem, what ultimately saves us is not the stockpiled rations inside a bunker, but the ‘courage to open the door and step out’ and our ‘solidarity with others’.

The Survivor believes they are utterly alone, yet they continuously search for someone by using the transmitter and turning on the camera to film.

This show is dedicated to all the ‘Last Men’ of the world who, at this very moment, might be enduring absolute loneliness, locked inside their own personal bunkers – whether that be a tiny studio flat or a wall around their heart.

Zombies are just a device. The real question we are asking is: “Is our current world actually safe?” ‘The Last Man’ exposes the loneliness of individuals abandoned by the system, ultimately celebrating the human spirit that breaks through isolation to hold someone else’s hand.

CM: Can you tell us a bit about the music? What style of music is used in the show? 
DK: Music is important in all musicals, but it has heightened importance in this show. Since there is only one actor on stage, the music fulfils the roles of a ‘second actor’, actively reflecting the emotional journey of the Survivor.

The show’s core genre is rock, using piercing electric guitar riffs and pounding drum beats to heighten the physical terror of the zombies outside the bunker door, while also acting as an emotional outlet that unleashes the character’s rage, cries and raw will to survive in confinement.

Conversely, after the fierce rock numbers storm through, the music shifts into stillness, where a minimal acoustic guitar and a lonely piano melody take the lead, poignantly capturing the hollow emptiness of being alone and bittersweet nostalgia of memories.

CM: What made you want to stage this now, and in the UK? 
DK: The protagonist on stage turns on his smartphone camera and films vlogs in a desperate attempt to interact with the world, yet he cannot bring himself to step outside his door.

This captures the exact paradox of modern individuals who are connected globally in real time via social media such as Instagram and TikTok, yet experience a more bitter loneliness and psychological isolation than ever before.

We have successfully navigated through an era of physical quarantine, but the ‘psychological bunkers’ people erected within themselves during that time remain firmly shut.

At the absolute edge of such solitude, I thought that a story that instills the ‘courage to open the door and step out, despite everything’ is precisely the kind of solace we need most right now.

Although ‘The Last Man’ is set against the specific backdrop of a neighbourhood in Seoul, the underlying keywords of ‘human alienation’ and ‘survival’ speak a universal language of humanity that anyone across the globe can resonate with.

By staging this piece in London – the epicentre of world theatre – I wanted to expand the primary themes of the show and share them with the global audience.

CM: Korean theatre is increasingly successful overseas in recent years. What factors would you say have been significant in that success? 
DK: Korean original musicals deeply explore universal themes of the human mind, isolation, relationships and emotional healing.

Whether using a unique backdrop like robots in love – ‘Maybe Happy Ending’ – or a zombie bunker – ‘The Last Man’ – they are ultimately human dramas that transcend borders and resonates with anyone. I think this deep emotional echo is what moves the hearts of international audiences.

Behind this is Seoul’s ‘Daehangro’, a unique, densely condensed theatrical ecosystem with over 140 small-to-medium theatres staging 150–200 musicals – including 30-50 premieres – each year. Shows constantly push boundaries and face immediate audience feedback.

Rather than stubbornly clinging to their original blueprints when venturing abroad, Korean producers and creators boldly hand over the scissors and pens to the local creative teams – including directors, dramaturgs and actors.

I believe that this flexible approach of altering stage designs, adapting dialogue and rearranging music to fit local sentiments and cultural contexts has played a decisive role in allowing Korean musicals to land not as an ‘exotic foreign culture’, but as ‘our shared story’ that everyone can relate to.

CM: Can you tell us about your own career? What drew you to working in the arts and what pathway did you take? 
DK: I still vividly remember the exact moment I first fell deeply in love with the theatre. My eyes were drawn not to the actors under the bright lights, but to the crew moving with absolute precision in the darkness. 

Watching the stage management calling the cues, and the sophisticated mechanics of the lighting and sound designs shifting the atmosphere with flawless timing, I developed an intense yearning to become the one who orchestrates this massive, clockwork work. 

I wanted to become a ‘translator of space’ – someone who fills the blank spaces between lines with lights, sound texture and physical structures of the set.

That was the beginning of my journey into directing. Over the past thirty years, spanning theatre directing, producing, musical theatre and filmmaking, that same passion has driven my work to this very day.

CM: What have been the highlights  of your working life thus far? 
DK: Every production has its share of miraculous moments, but if I had to choose the most intense highlight of my career, it would be the very first Pioneers’ Preview of ‘The Last Man’ at Southwark Playhouse Elephant, meeting London audiences for the first time.

Sitting in the auditorium, I could feel their rawest, most honest reactions skin to skin. Whether that night was deemed a ‘success’ or not didn’t matter.

What truly mattered was that the Survivor of ‘The Last Man’ spoke, the London audience answered, and a profound conversation began right then and there. It was, without a doubt, the greatest moment I have ever experienced as a director.

CM: What aims and ambitions do you have for the future? 
DK: My goal for the future is to keep dedicating myself fully to each project, just as I’ve always done, and to continue this journey of creating meaningful theatre.

‘The Last Man’ is on at Southwark Playhouse Elephant until 13 Jun. See the venue website here for more information and to book tickets. 

LINKS: southwarkplayhouse.co.uk | x.com/swkplay