Netflix’s latest foray into the one-man-army genre, Ziam, delivers a kinetic, blood-soaked romp that thrives in its unapologetic embrace of zombie flick conventions. Directed by Kulp Kaljareuk, this Thai action-horror hybrid wields Muay Thai as its weapon of choice, carving a niche in a crowded post-apocalyptic landscape. While it never aspires to redefine the genre, Ziam offers enough bone-crunching spectacle to satisfy fans, even if its narrative ambitions occasionally stumble.
A Familiar Apocalypse with a Muay Thai Twist
Ziam treads familiar ground, drawing inspiration from the visceral intensity of Ong-Bak and the relentless undead hordes of countless zombie classics. Mark Prin Suparat stars as Singh, a Muay Thai maestro whose fists and feet become instruments of survival in a world unraveling under a zombie outbreak. Opposite him, Nychaa Nuttanicha’s Rin provides the emotional anchor, a nurse trapped in a hospital-turned-charnel house. The setup is straightforward: Singh must battle through waves of the undead to save his beloved, a premise that prioritizes action over introspection.
From its opening sequence, Ziam showcases Suparat’s martial prowess with a flurry of elbows and knees, setting the tone for a film that revels in its physicality. The Muay Thai choreography, while not revolutionary, is executed with precision, lending a tactile authenticity to the carnage. Yet, the film’s reliance on genre tropes—greedy elites, a vague virus born of fishy origins—feels perfunctory, as if the script is checking boxes rather than exploring its potential for satire or depth.
Strengths in Containment, Weaknesses in Depth
Kaljareuk makes savvy use of the film’s contained setting, a dilapidated hospital that becomes a claustrophobic battleground. The environment is a character in itself, with its flickering lights and makeshift weapons—scalpels, IV stands—adding texture to the relentless action. The escalating stakes, from isolated skirmishes to chaotic melees, keep the pacing taut, ensuring that even the most jaded viewer remains engaged.
However, Ziam falters when it reaches for emotional resonance. Singh, though a formidable fighter, is a cipher, defined solely by his combat skills and devotion to Rin. This lack of depth renders him more avatar than protagonist, a vessel for violence rather than a fully realized character. Rin fares better, her vulnerability lending weight to the narrative, but the film’s attempts at pathos often feel forced, undercut by a script that prioritizes spectacle over substance.
Thematic elements, such as the implied corruption of a totalitarian regime or the privatization of survival, are tantalizing but underexplored. Ziam gestures toward social commentary but retreats into safer, action-driven territory, missing an opportunity to elevate its stakes beyond the visceral.
A Thrill Ride That Stops Short of Transcendence
At a lean 90 minutes, Ziam doesn’t overstay its welcome, making it an ideal summer distraction for those craving unpretentious mayhem. The zombie designs, while suitably grotesque, struggle to stand out in an era where the undead are ubiquitous, and the film’s antagonists—both human and infected—rarely push Singh to his limits. A standout human-versus-human brawl hints at what could have been, but the action, while competent, lacks the innovation to leave a lasting mark.
Ultimately, Ziam is a love letter to the zombie and martial arts genres, crafted with enough verve to entertain but not enough audacity to innovate. It’s a film that knows its strengths—tight pacing, a claustrophobic setting, and Suparat’s physical charisma—and leans into them with gusto. Yet, its reluctance to probe deeper into its themes or push its action to genre-defining heights leaves it as a satisfying, if fleeting, diversion. For those seeking a bloody, bone-breaking escape, Ziam delivers; just don’t expect it to linger in your mind once the credits roll.
Ziam is streaming on Netflix from today, July 9, 2025
