28 Years Later

So, 28 years have passed since a rabid virus ravaged the United Kingdom... and 23 years since we film viewers were first introduced to one of the most gruesome zombie films ever made. Danny Boyle and Alex Garland have once again joined forces to deliver a brand new story set in the abandoned British Isles. This time, we follow a twelve-year-old boy and his journey with his father (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) to the mainland, a quarantine zone where the living dead have mutated into something much worse...

I'll begin by saying that it didn't start very well, in its first five minutes. The opening scene is unexpectedly slack and ill-conceived. But once we fast-forward in time, it feels like we film viewers are back home again, and the establishment of the isolated community in the British Isles feels realistic and the editing feels cocky and feverish in just the right way. This is just the beginning of a violent and bizarre journey into the heart of the mainland, where our protagonist not only learns to survive the worst nightmarish creatures imaginable, but also learns things about himself and his father that set his entire future in motion.

28 Years Later is not particularly scary. It is a peculiar sequel that is not so interested in capturing the claustrophobic horror of the original and is more interested in taking the series in a new direction, something I really enjoyed. At its core, the film is a sad coming-of-age story about breaking free from uncomfortable constraints and daring to forge your own path - a path that happens to be lined with nasty zombies of various kinds. But the film is also more than just a sloppy zombie flick: it is also a kind of study in how the living dead have become integrated into our ecosystem and thus become part of our life cycle. Aside from this, the film is also refreshingly Boyle-punk in its storytelling, with a soundtrack that is out of this world.

However, it is when the film turns into a contemplative death hymn in its very last act that it shines at its best. This part is as pale as it is poetic, beautiful, and slightly ingenious in its inevitable tragedy. It's just a shame that the last three minutes are so poor and detract a little from the magic that the film managed to build up, but at least it points to the fact that there will definitely be a sequel to this British post-apocalypse effort, apparently as early as next year.

It is a strangely composed film that wants to say so much that it almost bursts with ideas. Petrol station explosions, scenic zombie-infested views, the philosophy of death, a Swedish NATO soldier who becomes the film's comic relief, a giant naked alpha zombie who rips out spines like Predator, parenthood, and sects consisting of acrobats in blonde wigs are some of the ingredients that shouldn't work together, but even though 28 Years Later sprawls in all directions, it is also these creative touches that make it so fascinating, crazy, original, and thought-provoking.