The zombie horror movie has, at this point, been fused with every other conceivable film genre and subgenre, so it almost goes without saying that there’s nothing 100% new under the sun when it comes to the walking dead. “Martial arts zombie movie,” for instance, is a crossover that goes back at least as far as 1981’s Hong Kong comedy Kung Fu Zombie, and also includes prominent entries such as Ryuhei Kitamura’s classic year 2001 stylistic fever dream Versus, or even wide release fare like Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. But still, there’s a streak of novelty remaining in a film that both takes the idea of its zombies seriously–the horror of the returned, living dead, with an insatiable demand for living flesh–and presents a solution as straightforward as “just punch and kick them until they fall over.” This is the oddball crevice that new Thai zombie action flick Ziam (newly premiered on Netflix in the U.S.) has crammed itself into, and the results are entertainingly lurid and absurd enough to kill 90 minutes. Can you ask much more from the “muay thai vs. zombies” conceit?
Well, yes, actually–I suppose you could ask for a bit more, because Ziam (the fusion of “zombie” and “Siam”) doesn’t reach or even aspire to the bone-cracking satisfaction of either muay thai classics like Ong-Bak, or modern zombie greats such as Train to Busan, which appears to be an obvious inspiration. One can actually imagine this movie being pitched as something like “Train to Busan meets The Raid,” but again, Ziam can’t boast the constant stakes-raising action and formidable adversaries of Indonesian action classic The Raid, or the empathetic supporting characters and impressive set pieces of the Japanese Train to Busan. What Ziam does have is mostly solid technical fundamentals, some decently choreographed action, a zest for bloodletting and some very odd zombies. And hey, that’s plenty for a night on the couch!
The setting of Ziam is a near future, mid-apocalyptic Thailand, set amid global famine produced by a climate crisis, wherein the totalitarian Thai government has staved off destruction through isolation and the development of tasty looking, insect-based nutrition bars, ‘a la Snowpiercer. Like so much classical zombie cinema before it, Ziam draws the expected parallel between the haves and have-nots in this society, making the point as unmissable as possible via a hilariously unsubtle cross-cutting sequence that flips back and forth between dirty peons scrounging for bugs and chortling fat cats and their hired goons enjoying impossible-to-source seafood delicacies. But ah, the fish will in fact be their undoing: Imported by a wealthy but desperate industrialist (the guy who created the insect bars) thanks to its supposed potential to somehow heal his ailing wife, the fish instead contains a pathogen that unleashes a rapidly spreading zombie plague within a local hospital. This hospital setting is our Nakatomi Tower, the playground for all the fists, feet, knees and elbows to connect with zombie skulls.
Who’s doing the smashing? That would be our leading man Singh (Mark Prin Suparat), a smuggler who makes a bare-bones living by escorting shipments of precious resources (in this case, tainted fish) to powerful clients while defending his cargo from roving, Road Warrior-style gangs with his overwhelming fighting prowess, as demonstrated in Ziam’s propulsive opening moments. In the city, he lives with girlfriend Rin (Nuttanicha Dungwattanawanich), a doctor who happens to be on shift when the outbreak begins. What’s left to do but to fight, hand and claw, through the hordes of snarling and blood-drooling dead in order to save his lady love? Oh, and there’s a plucky kid in the mix as well–we learn next to nothing about Singh’s character in the film, but the fact that he’s willing to fight to protect an asthmatic child is clearly meant to convey his protagonist bonafides.
There is a strain of absurdity throughout that creates some detachment from immersion, coming down to the fact that unlike pretty much any other zombie movie ever made, Singh’s go-to fallback for fighting the dead is, well, just to punch them in the face, over and over. And kick them in the face, and elbow them in the face, and occasionally to knee them in the face. This inherently rubs against Romero-esque zombie precedent because it’s far too intimate and close quarters for characters to typically survive such an encounter in this style of fiction: Traditionally, in a zombie film if someone is fighting the undead with their bare hands it’s in the final seconds before they’re dragged to the ground and devoured by the horde. We are, after all, talking about creatures that spread the contagion through any bite or scratch–how are you supposed to pop one in the mouth without becoming a zombie yourself? Ziam, believe it or not, is unconcerned with such trivialities–you might expect its screenwriter (there are somehow FIVE writers listed) to come up with some kind of exemption from infection for Singh, or a clever way to get around the obvious threat of transmitting the pathogen, but you’d be expecting too much of this production. The man doesn’t even put on a pair of gloves. Suffice to say, he’s simply wearing an impenetrable coat of plot armor around his body at all times, which does rob the film of much genuine potential for suspense.
As for the action, though, this is the red meat that a viewer of Ziam is actually apt to care about, and its delivery is perfectly competent if never genuinely inspired. Solid martial arts choreography is undone here and there by hyperactive editing that obfuscates what the performers are actually doing; staccato bursts of incomprehensibility that briefly make you momentarily narrow your eyes in confusion. Suffice to say, this isn’t vintage Tony Jaa, but most of the fight scenes–particularly when Singh has a human opponent to square off against rather than just a zombie charging him–are satisfyingly and unsparingly brutal. Granted, most of those fights are taking place in identical series of hospital hallways or parking garages, but we’ll take what we can get. One thing that is never spared is the blood effects, which are sticky and effusive, in a good way.
Ziam also manages to stand out for its notably kooky zombie designs, seemingly drawing inspiration at moments from the deep sea fish that first spurred the transformation, as the ghouls eventually sprout decidedly inhuman jaws that give them a unique and offputting look. It’s telling that I can point out at least a few details here that I’ve never seen in a zombie film before, given the sheer number of them I’ve watched over the years at Paste, but never have I seen sights such as “quadriplegic zombie with spine injury headgear confined to a wheelchair,” or “children’s ward Easter bunny zombie” in the past. Credit where credit is due; this is a subgenre where fresh ideas of any kind are a particularly valuable currency.
Ziam even attempts to make sweeping, emotional gestures now and then, though they’re hamstrung to some degree by familiarity, and it doesn’t pay to act as if the intended audience is truly interested in much more than the film delivering on the simplicity of its “muay thai vs. zombies” premise. Indeed, the truly ideal way to consume Ziam would no doubt be in a theater rather than sitting at home, as part of a crowd full of hooting genre movie geeks ready to indulge in a little good-spirited stupidity. But whether you’re couchbound or attending a midnight screening, Ziam delivers just enough comforting genre delight to surpass the B-movie median–and for streaming horror geeks, that’s all we ultimately need to hear.
Director: Kulp Kaljareuk
Writer: Vathanyu Ingkawiwat, Kulp Kaljareuk, Nut Nualpang, Chonnatee Pimnam, Weerasu Worrapot
Stars: Mark Prin Suparat, Nuttanicha Dungwattanawanich, Johnny Anfone
Release date: July 9, 2025 (Netflix)
Jim Vorel is Paste’s Movies editor and resident genre geek. You can follow him on Twitter or on Bluesky for more film writing.
