It’s been 25 years since 28 Days Later, so the math almost checks out on 28 Years Later, the second sequel to the “fast zombies” masterpiece, which also marks the return of Danny Boyle and Alex Garland, director and writer of the original film. In the years since the original, Boyle has directed a Best Picture winner and taken home Oscar gold for direction, while OG star Cillian Murphy is now a Best Actor winner to boot. Garland, while not an Oscar winner (yet), has made the jump to directing, and has become a reliable and consistently interesting storyteller, with films that quite notably touch upon hot button issues.
This powerful trio of talent and prestige is likely what helped purchase the goodwill and creative freedom for there to be a new movie in the 28 saga, and it’s a freedom that was fully capitalized upon by the filmmakers. 28 Years Later is not at all the movie any reasonable filmgoer would expect. It’s a profoundly weird film.
For my money, that’s the best type of film there is.
(I should clarify that Cillian Murphy is not in this movie, but his face is inextricably tied with the series).
In the 28 years since the events of the original film, the UK has been completely quarantined. No one is allowed in or out, and whatever happens within its borders is nobody’s business. Just off the coast is a small island connected to the mainland by a thin land bridge that can only be traversed during low tide. It’s called Hope Island, and the folks who live there have managed to stay free of infection for, well, 28 years. But given the quarantine, their only hope for survival is to obtain supplies from the neighboring region. As such, trips into the UK proper have become a a rite of passage for the men of the Hope Island Project, and our film begins, —after a short, terrifying prologue — on the day that Spike (Alfie Williams, in his second film role ever), a boy of 10, is going to make his first journey into the wild. He will be traveling alongside his father (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), much to the dismay of his ailing mother (Jodie Comer).
Most viewers would think that they know exactly what to expect from the film at this point, but they would be wrong. This guarded plot synopsis I’ve offered is only the film’s first act (which itself has a climax that elevates the franchise imagery into the realm of high art), and I’d be a real sonofabitch to divulge anything further.
The filmmakers could’ve easily gotten away with dipping into the series’ established tone and style for a third time, delivering a fast-paced zombie survival flick, and it would’ve been a perfectly satisfying affair, but they’ve instead set their ambitions much higher with this entry, which is itself the first part of a new trilogy set within the 28 world. The one area where the film falters is based in this fact. While there is a complete and terrifically moving emotional arc, the film ends on a bit of a cliffhanger (not a perilous one, mind you, but a quite curious one). This, however, is a vanishingly small complaint amidst the bold feat of atypical world-building which is accomplished prior to the non-conclusion.
The story is primarily concerned with Spike, who has never lived in a world without the rage virus. He was born on Hope Island and is unaware of the “before” world that the generation before him experienced the functional end of. His trek to the mainland awakens adolescent rebellion within him matched only by the duty he feels toward his ailing mother. The rage virus acts quickly and decisively, but her ailment is a slow one, and it’s robbing her of her sanity and intellect. It’s Spike’s first time reckoning with the concept of loss, and it’s through this angle that 28 Years Later proves to be a coming-of-age tale. During the film’s middle section, which features a brilliant and instantly iconic performance from Ralph Fiennes, I was stuck on the phrase “Dark Amblin.” Spielberg this is not, but it features the same thematic ideas that the legendary filmmaker frequently wrestles with involving the loss of innocence and acceptance of responsibility. He just doesn’t do it with rage zombies.
Boyle, a legend in his own right, does.
Not enough can be said about how tuned-in to the material Boyle is here. He’s always been an effective and idiosyncratic filmmaker, but he’s digging deep for this one, juxtaposing horrifying images with peppy music, lighting intense action sequences with aurora borealis, and making breathtaking painterly images out of a literal fort of bones. The raw, digital nature of the cinematography that has become a series standard is still there (this film was shot on tricked out cell phones), as is Boyle’s highly kinetic camera work and aggressive directorial presence (not a single zombie gets dispatched without a showy edit that downright announces that this is a movie). Yet for all the audacious craft, a spell remains cast over the viewer. There’s no distance — no artifice. Boyle’s signature edges remain, but they have been expertly softened, making stunning even the most garish visuals.
If Days and Weeks were about disaster response, post-9/11 paranoia, and a world consumed by rage, Years is about post-COVID/post-internet isolation. It’s about our current appetite for division and niche groupthink at the expense of logic and truth. It’s about me getting mine and everyone else can go screw. But it’s also about looking directly into the face of imminent destruction and choosing dignity. In a world replete with nostalgia-fueled cash-in projects, it feels like this film is committing some sort of beautiful crime, tricking the powers that be into eating their veggies when they clearly ordered ice cream.
Directed by Danny Boyle
Written by Alex Garland
Starring Jodie Comer, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Ralph Fiennes, Alfie Williams
Rated R, 115 minutes
