Director Mr Daljung Kim brings the cult Korean one‑person rock musical The Last Man to London for its world premiere at Southwark Playhouse Elephant. The production marks the show’s first English‑language staging after multiple successful seasons in Seoul.
Blending live rock music, dark humour and psychological tension, The Last Man follows a lone survivor navigating isolation after a global catastrophe. Mr Daljung Kim’s direction places audiences inside the bunker with the central figure, creating an intense and intimate theatrical experience.
The Last Man runs from 8 May to 13 June 2026 at Southwark Playhouse Elephant. Tickets are available to book here.
You’re directing The Last Man at Southwark Playhouse Elephant — what can you tell us about the show?
The Last Man is a visceral one-person musical set in a zombie apocalyptic world. At its heart, it is a story about the Survivor who is trapped in a mental and physical bunker of their own making.
Utilising a bunker set inspired by the uniquely Korean ‘Banjiha’ (semi-basement), the show mirrors the harsh realities of modern isolation, seamlessly blending this with the explosive energy of a rock gig.
At the beginning of the show, the Survivor — who insists that a zombie apocalypse has occurred — may appear to be a lunatic. However, as we lean into their imagination and listen to their story, we find ourselves empathising with them.
I hope this journey prompts the audience to reflect on the universal sense of isolation and loneliness that haunts our modern lives.
The show has already built a strong cult following in Korea. What has it been like reimagining the piece for an English-speaking audience?
One of my greatest challenges was preserving the core emotions and themes of the original work while making them resonant and accessible for a British audience. While the fundamental emotions of the show are universal, the specific Korean cultural context required careful adaptation.
For instance, the original script featured a scene where the Survivor reminisces about their mother’s ‘back-smashing’ — a playful smack on the back — and constant nagging. In Korea, this is a common expression of maternal affection, but we realised it might be misperceived as domestic violence by a UK audience. As a result, we worked on translating these culturally specific nuances into more universal situations that any audience could intuitively understand.
Language itself carries deep emotional and cultural weight beyond mere information, so our process went far beyond literal translation. We strove to convey the emotions and contexts underlying the original Korean text.
All of these attempts involved significant revisions to the book and music. Throughout this journey, I had extensive discussions with our dramaturg Jethro, music supervisor Gabriel, and stage designer Shankho about British culture and its theatrical landscape. Their insights were invaluable in bridging this cultural gap.
The same meticulous approach was applied to decisions around costumes and props, and we are continuing this discussion with our cast and crew in the rehearsal room. We’re searching for that perfect middle ground where universal resonance meets unique Korean characteristics.
The show blends rock gig, psychological thriller and social commentary. From a directing perspective, how do you balance these different elements on stage?
‘What is the essence of theatrical value?’
This is a question I always ask myself, and it serves as a guiding principle when trying to find balance between the various elements of the show.
This production features two performers sharing the central role across the run. What opportunities did that present for you creatively as a director?
I was told that double casting isn’t a standard practice here in the UK, but I insisted on keeping it for a specific reason. Our protagonist doesn’t have a name — they are simply ‘The Survivor’. My goal was for them to feel relatable, not distant.
While our two actors, Lex and Nabi, play the same role, they each have their own unique backstory and social setting. Lex is an aspiring director, and Nabi is a senior at university. Depending on who is on stage, the costumes, props and even some of the lines change to reflect their individual characters.
By giving them these different lives, I wanted to offer the audience more ways to see themselves in the story. I wanted the character to feel like a friend, a neighbour, someone they might easily encounter in their daily life — or even the audience themselves — in the hope that the show would resonate on a more universal scale.
Lex and Nabi also bring very different energies, genders and skills to the stage. Instead of confining them to a single mould, I chose to build two different versions of the character that allow their personal strengths to shine.
I hope this system adds an extra layer of excitement and discovery for the audience, and helps the show’s message reach everyone in a more personal way.
At its heart, the story explores isolation, survival and humanity. What conversations are you hoping audiences will leave the theatre having?
I would love for the audience to think about the people they can turn to when things get tough. Perhaps it could even inspire someone to be that person who reaches out when others are struggling.
We all face moments where we want to shut the world out. However, with humanity and solidarity, there is hope — hope that we can all hold on a little longer and find the way to survive.
What would you say to anyone thinking of booking to see The Last Man?
Feeling exhausted and overwhelmed? Come and see The Last Man and let’s ‘Hold On’ together!
