Share and Follow
Some films try to appear intelligent but fall short, while others embrace their inherent chaos with clever execution. Colony is a prime example of the latter, as renowned South Korean director Yeon Sang-ho returns to familiar territory with a fresh take on the undead. Known for his previous work on the zombie-centric films Train to Busan, Seoul Station, and Peninsula—with Train to Busan gaining international acclaim and slated for a Hollywood remake—Yeon takes a new route with this adventurous thriller where the sprinting undead play the lead role.
While there is a human ensemble present, they often feel like mere caricatures, stuck in a hybrid mall and corporate office as chaos ensues. Their fluctuating moral choices drive the plot, serving more as narrative tools than fully fleshed-out characters. At the heart of this chaotic tale is the origin of the zombie outbreak: a pathogen created by the villainous bioterrorist Young-cheol (played by Koo Kyo-hwan). Driven by vengeance, he injects his former employer with a virus during a company event, setting off a catastrophic chain of events.
The film unfolds with impressive speed, ditching typical zombie tropes for a new breed of rage zombies that scuttle on all fours and are drawn to light and human shapes. These creatures are rudimentary, and the camera captures their erratic movements as they slide across the building’s marble floors, enhancing the intensity of each scene.
As the virus rapidly spreads within the quarantined building, we meet a diverse group of characters: former bioengineer Se-jeong (Gianna Jun, marking her return to film after ten years), her compassionate ex-husband Gyu-seong (Go Soo), the benevolent security guard Hyun-seok (Ji Chang-wook), his tech-savvy sister Hyun-hee (Kim Shin-rok), and a mix of other archetypal figures. These characters often serve as the catalysts for action and plot development. Colony soon unveils its unique twist—just when it seems the humans might outwit the zombies, the creatures enter a trance-like state. Emerging from this state, they have collectively absorbed the humans’ strategies for survival, evolving to stand on two legs and spreading a peculiar white substance throughout the building, evoking the atmosphere of an Alien sequel.
The antagonist, Young-cheol, embodies themes of collective consciousness and surveillance in the digital age through his creation of rage zombies. These creatures communicate using a mix of psychic and fungal connections, constantly sharing knowledge and insights. This biotechnological concept is among the most captivating in recent storytelling, comparable to Apple TV’s Pluribus for its intriguing portrayal of the loss of individuality. Despite the unsettling idea of becoming a mucus-covered, ravenous creature, Yeon has a knack for making his zombies compelling, capturing their dynamic energy as if choreographing a performance akin to Cirque du Soleil.
Everyone in the movie’s fiction is totally dialed in, but their po-faced approach to the material doesn’t stop Yeon from having fun. The humans launch themselves at their attackers. The zombies learn to throw each other great distances, and eventually pick up guns. There’s even a subplot involving feral, frozen zombie Macaques, and a very fun dilemma that positions Young-cheol as both the ostensible zombie king as well as the only means to engineering a cure, granting him a hilariously convenient plot armor as his undead underlings do his bidding.
All the while, every single actor and extra who plays a zombie comes off as an absolute star. These aren’t your standard shuffle-and-sprint biters; their roles require both athleticism and shedding any and all self-consciousness in order to perform the creatures’ practically dance-like motions, especially as they grow in sync. The world outside the locked down office building certainly exists — there’s a perimeter, cops, scientists, and all the staples of disaster cinema — but it all serves the function of further contextualizing all the gonzo goings-on inside, as the stakes constantly evolve, and the zombie threat continues to morph.
Yeon’s use of physicality, of gooey textures, of alternating noise and silence, and of the sudden rush of eruptive action, all ensure that Colony is a complete blast. It’s buoyed by the notion that the zombie genre has long run its course, and the only way to resurrect it is by turning its established “rules” completely inside out. And while there are several conveniences to wade through across its 123 minutes — which feel more like shortcuts than cunning swerves — every decision ends up in service of a rollicking good time.
Siddhant Adlakha (@SiddhantAdlakha) is a New York-based film critic and video essay writer originally from Mumbai. He is a member of the New York Film Critics Circle, and his work has appeared in the New York Times, Variety. the Guardian, and New York Magazine.