A well-intentioned production that never quite empowers the audience to empathise with important underlying themes.Rating
Ok
The Last Man is a musical that originated as an online production in Korea, with book & lyrics by Jishik Kim and music by Seungyeon Kwon. It tells of a young man, The Survivor, who barricades himself inside an underground bunker to avoid a zombie apocalypse and an uncontrolled virus, so he’s fighting to preserve his life. Importantly, there’s a twist in the tale which emerges at the end, but for the majority of the show this is the premise the audience is working with.
The Survivor, himself a film buff, makes videos to record his experience, to be discovered if he doesn’t survive. As it’s a one-hander this, and a teddy bear he finds, enables him to talk aloud, thereby giving the audience information. Boxes are littered around and there’s a hint of the outdoors, where the zombies are, in an upper window. However, it’s a large space at Southwark Playhouse Elephant, so ideas of claustrophobia and containment that might work on a small screen don’t quite come across. Cheolmin Cho’s lighting design is essential to keep the space interesting and varied, shifting to create moments of focus or to suggest zombie approach.
The role of The Survivor is played alternately by two actors. On press night this was Lex Lee, who certainly has a good voice, although he might be better suited to Phantom than this tale of an apocalyptic world, which begs to be less polished and more gritty in its misery. The songs are a mixed bag but performed with skill by a great live band. However, again, we’re talking nightmare scenario here and there’s a tendency for them to be predictable and sentimental, despite the inclusion of expletives.
The biggest problem is that we aren’t given understanding of the real issue behind this self-internment until the very end, so it’s hard to sympathise with the protagonist throughout. Within moments of his entrance he has smugly told us how he’s cleverer than everyone else in predicting the apocalypse, and has quickly thrown his mum under the bus, saying she’s too distant to rescue, before barely talking about her again for ages. His complaining seems all very self-centred and it’s difficult to get on board with him. The truth of what’s causing him to struggle needs to be hinted at more distinctly before the late revelation so we don’t just find him histrionic, particularly as the story also lacks jeopardy. There’s no real sense that he’s in danger from zombies, and the issue of his dwindling supplies seems too foreseeable to have impact. He keeps singing until the end, while his physical decline is minimal. And even at the close, the real world never actually breaks through to bring enlightenment, with the final heroic gesture feeling schmaltzy, reminiscent of Tinkerbell asking everyone to clap if they believe in fairies.
Throughout there are inconsistencies in his story and behaviours which don’t make sense until you know the twist. Without being emphasised as glitches they just come over as sloppy faults in the narrative. Not enough genuine, as opposed to fantasised, reality filters into the room to plant uncertainty about his reliability before the final reveal bring the clues together, allowing us to feel authentically for his true dilemma.
This is a production with really great intent that doesn’t quite hit the mark. Without empowering the viewer to suspect that there’s something beneath the surface of what’s being shown – to understand that the real danger is from within before the final revelation gives clarity – it’s a derivative fantasy story that’s overly reminiscent of many gone before.
You can read more about the production in our recent interview with Mr Daljung Kim.
Books and Lyrics: Jishik Kim
Music: Seungyeon Kwon
Dramaturg: Jethro Compton
Director: Daljung Kim
Musical Supervisor, Co-Orchestrator and Arrangements and Lyricist: Gabriel Chernick
Set Designer: Shankho Chaudhuri
Lighting Designer: Cheolmin Cho
Sound Designer: Liam McDermott
Costume Designer: Anna Kelsey
Musical Director: Amy Hsu
The Last Man plays at Southwark Playhouse until Saturday 13 June.



