Director: Yeon Sang-ho
Stars: Gianna Jun, Ji Chang-wook, Koo Kyo-hwan
Yeon Sang-ho has a one-track mind. At least, that’s how it may appear to western audiences. While the South Korean genre wonder operates in a variety of different and prolific modes, it’s his zombie infected movies that seem to exclusively punch through overseas. Train to Busan proved a sleeper hit in the late stages of 2016, and it’s lacklustre follow-up Peninsula – while subsumed and undermined by the COVID-19 pandemic – nevertheless sits right beside it on those dwindling physical media store shelves. He’s made three diverse pictures in the interim, but now it’s his return to outbreak territory Colony that brings his work back to the UK.
The setting this time is a distinctly modern and multipurpose skyscraper in the centre of Seoul. The Dongwoori Building is a 32-storey city unto itself, containing conference facilities, an entire multi-level mall, laundry, warehousing and much more besides, making it a versatile arena for Yeon’s contained mayhem. Think Die Hand crossbred in a lab with Dawn of the Dead. This hothouse is Yeon’s breeding ground for an investigation into communication and group-think. The somewhat novel twist on the genre this time out is that those infected operate with a hive-mind mentality similar to ants, with messages communicated between individuals thanks to a liberally oozed pheromonal mucus. Unleashed by mad scientist type Seo Young-cheol (Koo Kyo-hwan), his engineered bioweapon instantaneously overcomes anyone bitten, who then respond as one. The building is quickly cordoned, and a ragtag group of survivors holed up in the shopping precinct are forced to fight for their own survival.
The evolution of the collective is under particular scrutiny here. The enslaved infected are without individuality. New discoveries are communicated throughout the network and a wholesale adaptation immediately takes place. For the humans things aren’t so easy. Individualism is a sacredly held tenet of humanity, but differences of age, class, intelligence and physical ability all become variables in the survivors’ perpetually shifting strategies. In a sense they are at a disadvantage because of their disparities. They don’t have the unity of their foes. But it is that very individuality which the film prizes most of all, even as it cynically and ruthlessly catalogues the fallout of human frailties. Selfishness and self-preservation at the expense of others is swiftly and cruelly punished with a healthy dash of schadenfreude.
Leading the fight for individuality inside is Dr. Kwon Se-jeong (Gianna Jun), there to attend a pharmaceutical conference with her ex-husband and colleague Dr. Han Kyu-seong (Go Soo). Witness to the outbreak, her nous helps to calm and direct a band of panicked civilians. From this group a number of (admittedly familiar) genre staples spring. Bratty, overwhelmed teens and a bullish businessman evoke and create some of the movie’s less-inspired diversions, helping it to a slightly unruly 2-hour running time. Better are the brother/sister pairing of intrepid security guard Choi Hyun-seok (Ji Chang-wook) and his wheelchair-bound sister Choi Hyun-hee (Kim Shin-rock), whose adaptability and connection provide emotive highs and lows. Trying to corral consensus outside the perimeter is Professor Kong Seol-hee (Shin Hyun-been), running into challenging differences of opinion in a further reflection of our inclination toward bias and division.
If, as intimated, Colony suffers from a somewhat plodding pace thanks to it’s many moving parts and tendency toward an over-complicated narrative, it also shows plenty of inventiveness. The section confined to the mall is arguably the strongest. A ‘bottle episode’ within the sprawling whole. Forced to hunker down, Yeon and his band of survivors mine the environment for it’s creative potentia. From scent-masking to optimising billboards and cardboard cut-outs for distraction purposes. But, like it’s group-think enemies, Colony is always evolving. Along the way it runs into tropes that threaten to slow and entangle it, but the ambition of the pieces manages to tug it free of any impediment before long. The infected also prove a distinctive and disturbing bunch. Sticky with their mucal webbing, they go from crawling to running to conjoining in ungodly combinations that bring to mind the endgame monstrosity from Evil Dead Rise. The choreographed performances of these stunt performers is often more like dance. Anyone getting Thriller vibes has plenty of just cause.
Ultimately the question of whether to kill or cure with vaccinated queen bee Seo pushes the dynamic third act to the most human of problems; making a decision. Gianna Jin succeeds to and fulfills her Final Girl responsibilities with distinction, but her Dr. Kwon still has an olive branch of solidarity to fall back on. The ebb and flow between communion and individualism is the tension that sustains this sometimes-bloated thrillride. Even the more stock machinations provide a familiar and dependable sense of darkly comic fun. Much like it’s paradoxical pondering on collectivism, ingenuity and the predictable both show their strengths.
The Lost Highway Hotel 