Review: The Last Man (Southwark Playhouse Elephant)

Review by Seth Wilby

⭐⭐⭐

Solo shows seem to be becoming even more prevalent in the theatrical landscape. Whether it's Cynthia Erivo tackling all 23 roles in Dracula or Jodie Comer delivering a powerfully raw monologue in Prima Facie, there’s a clear appetite from audiences to see a lone performer take them on an impressive journey. Despite this, solo musicals are less common. From a genre that typically demands eye-catching spectacle and riveting ensemble numbers, it feels unnatural to strip it all away. Yet, in a show called The Last Man, you have no choice.

Transferring to the Southwark Playhouse Elephant after numerous runs in Seoul, The Last Man takes us to a banjiha (semi-basement unit, placed on stage convincingly by Shankho Chaudhuri’s design) being used as a shelter by the supposed lone survivor of a zombie apocalypse. Across three-hundred-and-sixty-five days, we see isolation confuse their sense of reality as they question their very motivation to keep on living.

There will always be problems when presenting this genre. When delving so deeply into dystopia, lapses in narrative judgment must be made to allow a story to happen. And there are certainly several plot choices in this that make no sense- for someone who prepared themselves a whole emergency bunker, why did our survivor have no plan for when the electricity stopped working, or no prepared method for water filtration? And most baffling of all (although I’m sure few people were bothered by this as much as I was), why did they not choose to straighten the cardboard boxes holding up their desk?

In reality, though, you can look past these problems. And that’s an unfortunately common theme in this production, which demands that you forget what happened in the last scene and sort of just guess where our survivor’s headspace might now be. That said, it’s surprisingly hard not to get into it. Jishik Kim’s writing keeps you engaged and takes us on enough of a journey to feel purposeful, with Jethro Compton’s work as dramaturg connecting well to English audiences and giving its themes a universal relevance.

The main problem with the script is in the way it displayed emotion, often telling instead of showing. The words dictate how our survivor is feeling, but we aren’t allowed to infer it ourselves. Very little atmosphere is actually created (other than by the tensely gripping sound and lighting design by Liam McDermott and Cheolmin Cho, respectively), which means we never reach the tension that a psychological thriller like this requires.

Part of this is down to its structural choice of a need to justify why our survivor is, essentially, talking to themselves. At first, they ‘vlog’ their experience, speaking the first few scenes into a tripod, giving me great relief when they discovered a teddy bear to talk to, and we could finally connect to our protagonist on a more intimate level. Under Daljung Kim’s direction, we feel more like observers than accompanists in this bunker, not allowed full insight into their headspace, which, although it could help amplify their isolation, does prevent some connection.

There’s a definite attempt at something meaningful and powerful here, and it almost manages to reach it quite a few times. However, our main moral is dictated to us in the first paragraph (our survivor repeats that this could’ve been stopped if the government had acted earlier)- not only does this feel like the easy route to take, but it also stops there from being any sense of stakes. This was a near-death experience, but our protagonist is surprisingly calm. If the first act didn’t just show them having what looks like quite a pleasant life underground, we’d maybe feel more of an emotional pay-off in their second act breakdown, which instead comes across rushed and underdeveloped. This is all before we even begin to talk about the final scene…

Now, I don’t want to spoil the twist for anyone interested in trying this show for themselves, but someone ought to have told the writer that not everything needs a twist if you can’t give it the justice it deserves. A fundamental rule of storytelling is that you can’t end it with it all being a dream. While this (thankfully) wasn’t that, it came disappointingly close. If we were more emotionally invested in our character, this could’ve easily become a moving statement on paranoia and isolation. Instead, we’re left with a scene that should have been cut to give us more time on the penultimate scene, where we rushed through the fascinating choice between living and surviving.

We do still feel a connection to our survivor, though, and that is mainly due to an impressive and engaging performance by Nabi Brown (who shares the role across alternating performances with Lex Lee). Brown is spectacularly likable, creating a survivor we not only endear to, but who we enjoy watching, and can’t take our eyes off of. Her storytelling ability is top-notch, and she has a sharp wit in her delivery that could break even the toughest of audiences. A one-person show is not an easy feat, yet under Brown’s capable care, it feels seamless and easily engaging.

It seems weird to have gotten so far into a review of a musical without even mentioning the songs. That essentially reflects their place in the play. They aren’t necessary at all- Kim’s lyrics don’t progress the story or tell us anything we haven’t already inferred from the scenes around them. However, they are also the best part of the material. None of Seungyeon Kwon’s music is shattering any boundaries, but there’s enough in there to act as an earworm for afterwards, and you certainly find yourself bopping your head during every song. 

Part of this is certainly due to Brown’s melodic voice, which glistens in the softer, more emotive sections of the songs, although some of the beltier, more rocky moments seem more of a struggle (particularly in the opening song, where Brown’s voice is drowned out by the loud band, instead giving us a vibe closer to karaoke than theatre). It's an impossible error. Without the songs, the scenes would end up feeling dull, but with them, it's overlong (two hours, including an interval).

My feelings towards this show are complex, and I just wish the feelings in the show followed suit. The best two words I could use to summarise it would be pleasant and inoffensive. There’s nothing to actively dislike, and there’s the backbone of a truly affecting narrative in there if you’re willing to fill in the gaps yourself. All bought together by a winning lead performance and some boppy songs, it's a show that’s recommendable, just not revolutionary.

The Last Man plays at Southwark Playhouse Elephant until 13th June 2026. Tickets from https://southwarkplayhouse.co.uk/productions/the-last-man/

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