The Great Cultural Evolution

Colony (Yeon Sang-ho, 2026)

South Korean filmmaker Yeon Sang-ho gained prominence with his action horror classic Train to Busan (2016). His aptitude for epic spectacle, claustrophobic action and bloody horror was on full display, as well as an unexpected strength for human drama. The result was a film that surpassed expectations of its simple zombies on a train premise. A remarkable achievement for a zombie film  to stand out today, given its over-saturation. Since then, Sang-ho has been unable to produce anything of a similar calibre again. His latest film Colony (2026), a quasi-zombie film (technically infected humans), is an attempt to replicate his past success with a unique twist.

This time around, Sang-ho swaps the confined and claustrophobic compartments of a train with a multi-storey building, containing a conference centre and a shopping mall. So far, so Dawn of the Dead. Villainous scientist, Seo Young-cheol (Koo Kyo-han) reveals his intentions in the opening moments by calling the police to report his imminent bio-terrorist attack at the Doongwoori Building. The location of a presentation by his former employers at Chains Bio. The twist: he has injected himself with the only known vaccine.

Subsequently, the film introduces an ensemble of characters who are trapped in the building during the outbreak. These individuals are recognisable templates drawn from various disaster films: a smart leader, a secondary antagonist who creates a power struggle; the one who needs to prove their past abilities; and the lame duck who endangers everyone. The rest serve as mere cannon fodder. While derivative, their purpose is to demonstrate how they are forced to change and adapt to survive against a virus that does the same.

The film’s central focus is the virus itself. After Young-cheol injects the Elon Musk-like CEO of Chains Bio with the infectious virus, it spreads rapidly within the complex. Initially, the infected exhibit a frenzied, quadrupedal state; mistaking cardboard cutouts for real people. As the infection progresses, the zombie-like horde begin to develop intelligence and evolve. They gain the ability to walk upright and distinguish between real and virtual individuals. When an infected person acquires a new skill, it communicates this to others via the fungal mycelium it secretes and spreads throughout the building. Throughout the film, the infected horde exhibits a behaviour that's reminiscent of meerkats posing together. Their milky eyes flicker as they receive the latest bio-firmware update. The infected share a collective intelligence and function as a hive mind. A bit like Reddit, innit?

Upon realising they are quarantined in the building, the survivors are compelled to locate Young-cheol, the human vaccine, in the hope of receiving any kind of rescue. They negotiate their way to his last known location by feeding false information to the infected hive and tricking them with different scents. It’s an ingenious plan from their group leader Kwon Se-jeon (Jun Ji-hyun). However, she and the rest of the survivors discover Young-cheol is motivated via revenge, and is willing to change the human race forever in what he considers progress. Thus, the scientist villain makes it even more perilous for the group who apprehend him, as he intentionally gets himself bitten by his infected former boss, and now able to tap into the hive mind and control them.

This is where the conflict between the individuals and the collective must be resolved. The survivors are compelled to blindfold Young-cheol to prevent him from revealing their location. They communicate via a WhatsApp group to ensure he cannot overhear them. However, Young-cheol is aided by a massive army able to overcome many of his restrictions. A former ally is now part of the colony. Thus, the infected can eventually read phone texts. That's not all, they can communicate, operate firearms and drive vehicles within hours. They are already smarter than some of the survivors. Consequently, with the assistance of our antagonist, they are able to overwhelm the small rescue team attempting to apprehend Young-cheol with relative ease.

Sang-ho manages to deliver Colony with his trademark focus on spectacle. The action set pieces are particularly grandiose in the finale. The horror elements are also noteworthy. The scene in which the infected mimic a paraplegic survivor being carried on the back of her brother as a three-person contorted monstrosity, is particularly chilling. However, this comes at the expense of shallow character writing and plot holes. It's evident in a bully receiving her comeuppance or a predictable betrayal. A security guard is able to take on multiple infected with a kitchen knife feels very far-fetched. Nevertheless, I found these flaws forgivable given the enjoyment I derived from the film. If anything, these weaknesses appeared intentional; demonstrating the collective intelligence of a hive mind system against the reckless individualism of the human soul. Therefore, I perceived Colony as a metaphor for the horrors of AI and/or communism. Take your pick!

Colony is a divisive film. While I found it intensely enjoyable and was able to overlook some of its flaws, I can understand why others cannot. Ultimately, its unique take on the zombie/infected outbreak formula was what won me over; compensating for its other shortcomings.

Squid Pro Quo

People risking their lives in a variety of demented playground style contests for money made for addictive viewing in Hwang Dong-hyuk's Netflix series Squid Game (2021). The  global phenomenon successfully managed to entertain and shock in equal measure. It also felt like a complete package in its nine episode run. Netflix commissioning a second and third season obviously makes business sense for the streaming giant, but just like film sequels, it runs the risk of being inferior and diluting the brand. For Dong-hyuk's creation, Squid Game season two is still a highly bingeworthy offering, but also a mixed bag compared to its sublime predecessor.

What's instantly noticeable about the second season is it being reduced to seven episodes. Hardly a red flag, but cause for concern considering it's significantly slower paced in getting to the actual games than before. Main protagonist, Seong Gi-hun (Lee Jung-jae), is a completely changed man after winning the previous tournament. Joined by cop Hwang Jun-ho (Wi Ha-joon), they now command a team of mercenaries searching for the location of the deadly games and the cryptic higher ups who run it.

Gi-hun becoming a contestant again leads to a few changes in both the variety of games and general theme of the show. His familiarity with the iconic first game Red Light, Green Light leads to more survivors, which consequentially means less prize money for everyone alive. This in turn leads to scenes where the survivors vote more often in proceeding with the next games. The winning majority dictating what happens next. This in turn has the voting losers forced to play on and risk their lives. Whereas the first season was a satire on capitalism, season two makes a prodding commentary on democracy, and how the exploitation of it. 

The new contestants are a varied bunch of desperate individuals: an elderly mother and her idiotic son are perhaps the most interesting of the new lot. The most odious of the bunch is Thanos, a Korean rapper, with eye rolling hood talk, who had me praying for his instant death. The actor who played him was terrible, too. The first season's players were far more memorable, however.

Season two's biggest offence is it feeling like it has been divided from the inevitable third season, thanks to its pacing and various sub plots being ridiculously drawn out. Thus, even with its violent finale and predictable cliffhanger, it doesn't come close to being as satisfying as its debut season. This reeks of Netflix's tampering, as other shows exclusive to the platform have intentionally been divided (Cobra Kai's sixth season).

Overall, Squid Game season two is a mixed bag. A series which continues to shine with its incredible premise and high risk stakes, make it easy to binge all the way through, effortlessly. However, the slower pace and drawn out story telling, replete with it all being told in less episodes, make it feel a little underwhelming compared to its monumental debut. Still, despite this criticism, Squid Game still left me feeling invested and wondering how it will conclude.

Grave Encounters

Exhuma (Jang Jae-hyun, 2024)

A wealthy Korean American family hire Lee Hwa-rim (Kim Go-eun), a renowned shaman, to vanquish a family curse which takes the life of every firstborn. This endeavour turns out to be too big a job for the mystic and her apprentice Yoo Bong-gil (Lee Do-hyun), and so undertaker Go Yeong-geun (Yoo Hae-jin) and geomancer Kim Sang-deok (Choi Min-sik) are thrown into the mix. Effectively, a Korean Ghostbusters squad. Superstitious rituals are performed at an ancestor's grave, to remove the life threatening curse, and finally rid it permanently. If all else fails, the remains must be exhumed and then cremated. Given the film's title Exhuma (2024), this isn’t going to go to plan.

Split into several chapters, Jang Jae-hyun's film contains two very distinctive halves. Initially, it focuses on being a supernatural mystery and dealing with bizarre procedures involved in lifting the curse safely. It also casts doubt on the various mystics. Could they potentially be con artists exploiting people’s superstitions and desperation? Meanwhile, the legacy of Japan's occupation of Korea is brought under the spotlight —much like The Wailing (2016). Once a major plot revelation is literally unearthed, the slow burn mystery is substituted with an all out possession folk horror. It's where the film absolutely excels.

Jang Jae-hyun's Korean box office hit can feel a little bloviated during the first half of the film. Excessive fat, like convoluted dialogue and unnecessary exposition, ought to have been trimmed off in the cutting room. Given he wrote Exhuma, it might explain why a script editor wasn't so effective. For instance, as great as the second half of the film is, the victimised family are unceremoniously written out and forgotten. Thankfully, the awesome showdown with the film's demonic antagonist and the stakes involved manage to sidetrack these obvious shortcomings.

Goes without saying, Korean cinema tends be blessed with some marvellous visuals, and Exhuma is no exception. Shot by Lee Mo-gae, the same cinematographer responsible for A Tale of Two Sisters (2003) and I Saw the Devil (2010) (Choi Min-sik also stars in the latter) he competently changes styles to match the two distinctly obvious parts of the film.

Great to see foreign films like Exhuma highlight unique superstitions from around the world. Offering a cultural break from the various clichés borrowed from European folklore. A major reason why the Senegalese genre-bender Saloum (2022) was so refreshing. Hopefully, more foreign films follow in Exhuma's footsteps.

Bottom line: Exhuma is a lore heavy folk horror; addressing sins of the past which permeate throughout the film. The cast, particularly Choi Min-sik's charismatic vape-smoking geomancer, are all solid, and do help buffer the two wildly different tones of the film. Occasionally convoluted with unnecessary exposition, Exhuma still manages to be a highly mesmerising film.