“Imperfect communication, the source of all tragedy.” This is the societal pratfall that Colony, from South Korean filmmaker Yeon Sang-ho, examines by way of zombies. Since helming Train To Busan, its animated prequel Seoul Station, and live-action sequel Peninsula, Yeon has clearly developed cred in this specific horror subgenre. Yet Colony feels comparatively hollow. Despite attempting to recreate the formula of Busan‘s success—chilling monster designs, a (mostly) single-location conceit, and ragtag group of survivors—this specific concoction doesn’t end up as potent.
This time, the chaos unfolds amid a biotechnology conference, where professors and business leaders converge to discuss advancements in the field. Kwon Se-jeong (Jun Ji-hyun, totally void of charisma) hopes to gain more than just the low-down on new research, as the recent loss of her professorship means that she needs a new gig—and quickly. She’s joined at the conference by her well-meaning ex-husband, Han Gyu-seong (Go Soo, also Busan‘s lead character), who hopes he can help before he relocates abroad with his new wife, whose contact is lovingly saved in his phone as “my better half,” establishing that no lingering attraction exists between the exes. After hearing an eminent CEO’s presentation on “collective intelligence,” “yellow slime mold,” and “organic semiconductors,” Se-jeong is encouraged to introduce herself and, with any luck, secure a coveted gig in her field.
But the conference’s findings quickly go from conceptual to contagious. Se-jeong never gets to schmooze with the CEO, because shortly after leaving the stage, he’s confronted by Seo Young-cheol (Koo Kyo-hwan), whose crazed eyes loudly broadcast an unstable psyche. Declaring that the presentation directly plagiarized his research, Young-cheol procures a syringe loaded with Midori-colored liquid and stabs the executive in the neck. Within minutes, he’s covered in blood and sticky white mucus—and is hell-bent on transmitting whatever he’s been injected with to as many other people as possible. The conference center and its adjoining shopping mall are immediately quarantined, leaving everyone inside left to fend off an ever-increasing number of slimy, quick-crawling infected. (Their twitchy, frenetic movements, choreographed by Busan collaborator Jeon Young alongside a team of dancers, are a major highlight.)
As the title suggests—and as the CEO plainly elucidates in his presentation—the blueprint for these gnarly ghouls comes from the social structure of ants. Perhaps because they just sat through a finely detailed explanation of the origins of the bioweapon they’re dealing with, Se-jeong and Gyu-seong, soon joined by a motley crew of survivors, begin to outsmart the creatures’ swarm intelligence, which they transmit through an inbred mycelial network. They use the infected’s poor eyesight to trick them with billboards and mannequins; they chemically mask their human pheromones, which the ant-like zombies can easily sniff out; and they use water to wash away thick layers of slime mold. But their initial inroads are thwarted by the lingering presence of Young-cheol, who is perfectly cognizant despite having also injected himself with the mold. Not only that, but the diseased monsters seem to avoid him entirely.
An overwhelming sense of confusion courses through Colony, and not only among the protagonists. The bioweaponry aspect is flimsy, with the constant scientific sidebars (including one scene that involves hundreds of contaminated monkeys on the loose in a laboratory) distracting from the film’s central thesis: the importance of human connection. Unlike with Train To Busan, the dynamic between these individuals doesn’t meaningfully develop over the course of the film. This makes each kill almost trivial, certainly void of the emotional resonance found in that movie’s climax. The closest we get is a brother and his wheelchair-using sister in a scene that feels insultingly crafted to tug on heartstrings. Not only are viewers left scratching our heads about the science behind this outbreak (overt homages to Contagion don’t help), but we’re left wondering exactly why we should care if any of these people live or die. Preprogrammed desires to see the human race endure don’t quite cut it.
The convolution continues when it’s revealed that Se-jeong and Young-cheol share a connection in their past—meant to strengthen the “imperfect communication” theme, albeit ham-fistedly—as well as when the contagion breaks free from the building and spills onto bustling city streets. There’s too much going on here, and it’s surprising that Yeon didn’t keep this story intentionally pared-down in order to replicate what has worked so well for him in the past. This doesn’t even pertain strictly to Busan, but also his earlier films, particularly his debut The King Of Pigs, a semi-autobiographical, intensely psychological animated film that helped put him on the map. In a marked departure from these projects, Colony is utterly unsure of its own identity—an ironic fate for a film about the importance of clear messaging.
Director: Yeon Sang-ho
Writer: Yeon Sang-ho
Starring: Jun Ji-hyun, Koo Kyo-hwan, Ji Chang-wook, Kim Shin-rok, Shin Hyun-been, Go Soo
Release Date: August 28, 2026