Interview: A thrilling apocalyptic drama shifts from Seoul to Southwark
Last Man, Southwark Playhouse

Mr Daljung Kim on bringing The Last Man from small screen to stage
The Last Man is a Korean musical that has developed a cult following across East Asia and is a thrilling tale of an isolated man sheltering in a bunker when the world around him is threatened. It originally found fame online as a web-based show, but now leaves that space to be premiered on the stage of the Southwark Playhouse. Not ones to avoid a post-apocalyptic drama, we called up director Mr Daljung Kim to tell us all about the transition.
Hi there Mr Kim – thanks so much for stopping by to talk about The Last Man. Can you tell us about the origins of the production, and why you decided to now bring it onstage?
The journey of The Last Man began in 2021, born from the raw narratives of individuals forcibly isolated by the state and society during the COVID-19 pandemic. In Korea, this era was marked by the tragic rise of ‘solitary deaths’ among a youth generation stripped of social and economic stability. This crisis didn’t just cause pain; it dragged latent generational conflicts to the surface, deepening the divides within our society. It was against this backdrop that I first encountered the script and music by writer Ji-sik Kim and composer Seung-yeon Kwon.
The project began with a belief that ‘the most personal can be the most universal.’ My greatest motivation for bringing this work to the stage was not merely to depict a desperate fight for survival, but to explore what lies beneath it: the profound, agonising loneliness, and the human dignity required to endure it.
I felt a particular resonance with the B-103 bunker, the show’s setting; it closely resembles the internal ‘room’ we all carry within a corner of our minds. Beyond physical isolation, it is a story that anyone who has ever felt disconnected from the world and trapped in their own solitary universe can deeply relate to. I embarked on this production hoping it would serve not just as one individual’s survival story, but as a mirror reflecting the deepest, most vulnerable parts of our inner selves.
Today, we live in an era where we are more connected than ever before, yet, paradoxically, more profoundly isolated. Technological advancements may have bridged physical distances, but the sense of alienation and psychological pressures experienced by individuals have only intensified. Bringing The Last Man to the London stage at this moment is an invitation to discuss ‘recovery’ and ‘solidarity.’ The Survivor’s oscillation between crippling anxiety and flickering hope reflects the lives of countless young people and urban dwellers today. I specifically wanted to address the pervasive loneliness that inevitably exists behind the dazzling facades of major metropolises like Seoul, Tokyo, Shanghai, and London. Moving away from the rigid societal metrics of success and failure, I want to share a simple, powerful truth with our audience – the very act of enduring and surviving each single day is, in itself, a magnificent struggle
Does the feel of the show alter much in the transition?
We have made several changes to the show to engage London audiences more deeply, while strictly preserving the essence of the story.
Structurally, while the Seoul production consists of a prologue, four chapters, and an epilogue, the London premiere has been restructured into a prologue followed by three chapters, an intermission, and then two final chapters and an epilogue. In terms of the story, while the Seoul production focuses on more evocative and intuitive elements, the London version leans into narrative logic and structural clarity.
We also had some significant changes in the music as well. Working closely with our dramaturg Jethro Compton and musical director Gabriel Chernick, we re-evaluated the placement of every musical number and refined the lyrics. The shift from Korean to English naturally altered the melodic cadence and points of emphasis. Gabriel’s bold new arrangements have breathed fresh life into the score, dynamically shifting the tempo and momentum of the drama. Furthermore, to deepen the show’s local resonance, Gabriel composed a brand-new number specifically for this premiere: ‘Hold the Fuck On.’
As such, the London transition of The Last Man has been a deliberate process of maintaining the original’s heart while crafting a theatrical experience that truly resonates with the people of this city.
Although there’s only one role you’ve chosen to alternate two performers across the run. What is the thinking behind that?
Casting two separate actors for our show was far more than a practical contingency; it was a deliberate artistic interrogation. This choice was designed to expand the show’s emotional resonance and challenge the audience’s perspective on the sense of loneliness.
My goal was to unveil the multi-faceted spectrum of isolation. Even with the same script and score, The Last Man is reborn as a completely different character depending on the unique texture each actor brings to the stage. While one performer might emphasise a descent into madness hidden behind a mask of cynical humor, another may choose to peel back the layers of profound human fragility. These distinct interpretations do not compete; they coexist to broaden the show’s spectrum, forcing the audience to confront a different question: “If I were the one trapped in that bunker, which version of myself would emerge?”
The ultimate goal of this choice was to reinforce the message of universality. By having more than one actor play the same role, we suggest that the isolation and struggle on stage are not just a story of a single individual, but a narrative that belongs to all of us. I believe that the different modes of survival portrayed by these two actors prove, in various forms, the universal human vitality that lies at the heart of The Last Man.
Who are your cast and what do they each bring differently to the same role?
For this London premiere, the role of the ‘Survivor’ is brought to life by two exceptional performers selected through an open audition – Lex Lee and Nabi Brown. In a one-person musical, the actor’s personal history inevitably bleeds into the character, and these two performers have carved out two profoundly different paths through the bunker.
Lex Lee brings an immense emotional depth and a grounded, commanding presence, shaped by his life experiences in New Zealand, Berlin, and London. He portrays a character who feels like a ‘seasoned veteran of loneliness – someone who has fought loneliness for a long time, balancing cynical humor with a rock-solid survival instinct. His powerful vocals further intensify the raw energy of this rock musical, creating a truly electrifying performance.
In contrast, Nabi Brown, a recent graduate of Trinity Laban, offers a captivating blend of raw, explosive energy and delicate vulnerability. As a British-Korean dual national who grew up navigating diverse cultures, she brings a unique sensitivity to a character grappling with identity and isolation. Nabi’s Survivor is passionate and fragile, creating an emotional bond that would make the audience want to reach out and rescue her from that bunker.
While Lex embodies the unyielding will to endure, Nabi captures the desperate flame of hope flickering through the very act of falling apart. We invite you to witness these two distinct interpretations of struggle and survival within the walls of Bunker B-103.
So, what can you tell us about the music in the show?
I believe rock is the most unfiltered and explosive genre to capture the raw anxiety, the boiling rage, and the desperate, visceral will to live that erupts from a state of extreme isolation.
Given that this show is a one-person musical, music steps in where words fail to articulate the protagonist’s shifting internal landscape. It becomes the protagonist’s internal monologue, stepping in where dialogue reaches its limit. As the show progresses, the music undergoes a transformation: the regimented, obsessive rhythms of a survival routine gradually fracture, descending into a distorted, hallucinatory soundscape. This change serves to dramatise the character’s mental disintegration and the blurring lines between their reality and their delusions.
Towards the end of the show, there’s a moment when every instrument and sound finally fades away. I want the audience to experience exactly where that last remaining voice of the lone Survivor truly reaches.
The work is translated from Korean to English for this premiere. What have been the challenges involved in that?
The first challenge was the prosody of the language. Korean is a syllable-timed language, characterised by its melodic, vowel-centred resonance. English, however, is stress-timed and relies on a percussive, consonant-heavy impact. For a rock musical, this wasn’t just a matter of translation; it required a complete sonic overhaul. We had to ensure the lyrics didn’t feel like a ‘translated version’, but as if they were originally conceived in English. This feat of musical re-engineering would have been impossible without the relentless collaboration of Jethro Compton and Gabriel Chernick.
The second challenge lay in the reinterpretation of cultural nuances. I spent a long time contemplating how to authentically convey the specific Korean sentiments of ‘survival’ and ‘social isolation’ to the London audience. For instance, how do we translate the unique Korean concept of Jeong (a profound sense of communal connection) or Jonbeo (a gritty, desperate resilience often used by the younger generation)? Jethro’s role was pivotal here. His tireless dedication during his visit to Seoul, followed by our ongoing discussions spanning London and Seoul, provided the answers to these complex cultural puzzles.
Finally, we focused on localising the humour. The dark humour that punctuates the Survivor’s loneliness is a vital device in this play. Jethro and I spent hours discussing how to translate Korean wordplay and situational wit into the dry, biting, and cynical humour that British audiences lean into.
Ultimately, this entire process was about ensuring that the ‘Survivor’ would feel just as authentic living in a London basement flat as they did in a Seoul semi-basement. While this ‘cultural transition’ may never be perfect, I hope this version serves as a bridge, allowing London audiences to find a piece of their own story within our bunker.
It’s amazing to see East Asian work given this prominence on an acclaimed London stage such as Southwark Playhouse. Do you think this kind of diversity of cast and creatives brings something new and important to UK theatre?
For me, this project is the true realisation of global collaboration. Built upon original content created in Korea, this show was brought to life through the collective minds of Korean and British creators, technical crews, actors, and producers. The journey of learning each other’s artistic languages and refining our vision with mutual respect has been an exhilarating reminder of why we create live theatre.
One of the central goals of this London premiere was to move beyond surface-level representation – not simply diversifying the ethnicity of the cast, but exploring how a multitude of worldviews could be woven into the very fabric of the show, from its creative roots to the outcome. In that sense, it has been a deeply rewarding endeavour in expanding the horizons of diversity.
I also hope this marks an expansion of the theatrical community and a new solidarity of empathy. London is a magnificent cultural intersection, a city that breathes diversity. For an East Asian-rooted narrative to take its place within the London mainstream feels like giving voice to the many ‘Survivors’ who have remained invisible. Our goal is to convey a message not just to a specific community, but to every Londoner who has experienced the alienation of modern society: ‘Your story can be at the very centre of this stage.’
I hope this London production of The Last Man marks a significant milestone in the journey of the British theatre industry – moving towards becoming a true global arts hub that can embrace the universal pains and hopes of people across the world.
Thanks very much to Mr Kim for taking time out of rehearsals to give us a glimpse into this exciting new show.
The Last Man runs at Southwark Playhouse Elephant from Friday 8 May to Saturday 13 June.






