Zombie stories are, for many reasons, a mess. Despite the fact that zombie lore originated with enslaved Haitians who feared that they would be forced to labor even after they died, many contemporary zombie stories focus on white people and their desire to run amok in a world disturbingly devoid of people of color. Not so, however, with the subject of this month’s Korean drama review: Kingdom. The Netflix original series, which released its entire first season in January of this year, transports zombies to medieval Joseon Korea and adds its own twists to the lore, utilizing it to deliver a commentary on the horrific consequences of poverty and inequality. (Warning for minor spoilers ahead.)
Kingdom opens with political intrigue: the king is ill and Crown Prince Yi Chang’s own life hangs in the balance. If Chang’s father dies before the queen (who is not Chang’s mother) gives birth, Chang (Ju Ji Hoon) will become king and secure his safety; however, if the queen gives birth to a son before the king dies, her family will depose Chang and name his half brother the new Crown Prince instead. The queen has forbidden Chang to visit his father, but that doesn’t stop him from snooping around to find out what exactly is ailing the king—and in so doing, he discovers a plague that threatens the entire country.
First of all, a warning: there is cannibalism in this series. It shows up early and it is a very prominent part of the plot. Do I think that it serves a purpose other than shocking the viewer? Yes. Did it still make me lose my appetite for several days? Also yes. That being said, I enjoyed this series much more than I initially thought I would. It doesn’t reinvent the zombie genre—zombies are still walking undead who eat the living—but it does add new characteristics and rules for the zombies to play by.
They’re fast, for one. There are no lumbering, clumsy zombies in Kingdom. They all run like they’re professional sprinters. They’re also seemingly averse to sunlight, a fact which leads to some of the series’ most disturbing imagery: hundreds of rotting, bloated corpses diving under verandas and into wells as the sun rises, there to lie inert and tangled in a bloody mass until night falls again. You would think that giving the characters a few hours of respite would lessen the suspense of the show, but it only heightens it: it’s eerie to watch the characters pass by these silent corpses, holding your breath as you wait for the first hand to twitch. And unlike zombie stories set in contemporary times, there aren’t many places to take shelter in. Much of Kingdom takes place in the open countryside, where the characters are small and vulnerable figures in a sweeping expanse of grass and trees.
And vulnerable they are indeed. Kingdom’s characters aren’t swashbuckling heroes, ready to display their martial prowess, because the series isn’t interested in depicting the harrowing adventure of a band of plucky survivors. Instead, what it shows us is a world that was already blighted and bleak before the first zombie ever rose to feed on the living. Only it’s not everyone who suffers at first; it’s the commoners who shiver in inadequate clothing and starve as winter approaches. The outbreak only highlights how blatant the inequality is between commoners and nobles, from the food that they eat to the avenues of escape they have once danger descends.
My major reservation with the series thus far is that Chang is undoubtedly the main character. He’s joined by physician’s assistant Seo Bi (Bae Doo Na of Sense8 fame) and the mysterious Yeong Shin (Kim Sung Gyu), both of whom are commoners, but we see most of the series through Chang’s privileged lenses. I’m cautiously curious about where the series will take his character development. Season two of Kingdom is already in the midst of being filmed, and hopefully it will show us whether Chang will dismantle the system of inequality that created the zombie disaster in the first place, or whether he’ll simply replace those currently in power and wrap a bandage over the problems.
