Danny Boyle and Alex Garland’s long-awaited reunion is filled with powerful, polarizing creative energy that’s sometimes hindered by being a franchise reboot
28 years have passed since the Rage Virus infected Britain. With mainland Europe having successfully pushed back against global exposure, the British Isles have deteriorated under strict quarantine enforced by an international military coalition by land and sea. Life continues, however, in small, self-regulated pockets—most notably the thriving village on Holy Island/Lindisfarne off the coast of Northumberland. Naturally shielded by a rocky causeway that disappears with the morning and evening tides, those on Holy Island prosper under strict isolationist measures to safeguard their vibrant community.
With community comes contribution and ritual, such as young Spike’s (Alfie Williams) first day hunting for supplies on the mainland under the watchful eye of his father Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson). It’s a terrifying ordeal as Jamie teaches Spike what he can only learn from experience: not just to navigate the overgrown urban wilderness of England, but also to hide from and ultimately kill the roaming hordes of Infected still teeming everywhere. With his mother, Isla (Jodie Comer), suffering from an unknown illness and Jamie seeming resigned to her fate, Spike and Isla embark on a perilous, life-threatening journey to a rumored Doctor (Ralph Fiennes) who may hold the answers they desperately seek.
Twenty-three years after their genre-imploding original film 28 Days Later, Danny Boyle and Alex Garland finally reunite for the start of a new trilogy that many believed (including the creatives themselves) wouldn’t rise again. This resurrected sequel, however, demonstrates that the 28…Later franchise is still viscerally alive. 28 Years Later offers a rich and provocative new exploration of Boyle and Garland’s signature style of intimate apocalyptic chaos, made even more impactful (and polarizing) by how both filmmakers’ tastes and interests have evolved over the past two decades (not to mention a real-life global pandemic). Nevertheless, Boyle and Garland’s daring vision is sometimes hindered by their even more ambitious plan to deliver two additional films; they present a collection of captivating yet ultimately not fully realized ideas that struggle to resonate as an equally satisfying standalone experience. Still, 28 Years Later remains an enticing and dazzling first course, even if audiences may be craving a bit more meat on the bone by the end of this film.
Right out of the gate, Boyle and Garland are at home returning to this universe, opening with an intimate yet bloody massacre that upends one life before comfortably settling into how an entire community adapts and rebounds from the apocalypse. The world of Lindisfarne is impeccably realized, filled with George Miller-esque repurposing of found objects without any of the inherent nihilistic savagery one might assume is necessary for survival. This is a community that helps, rebuilds, and loves—where archery practice on rage zombies and manning a watchtower are simply parts of growing up and coming of age. While the community maintains strict rules against venturing out to search for those who don’t return, that doesn’t stop them from preparing a “welcome back” party during their immediate absence. One can’t thrive or hope for a better life under such immense dread; to paraphrase a banner on the island, “fail we might, continue we must.”
It’s an ethos that distinguishes this particular franchise from other zombie and apocalypse films. While the scope of these films can be massive within a given sequence, Boyle and Garland don’t concentrate on the spectacle of societal suffering; rather, they focus on the nitty-gritty of individual ways to just get by and survive another damn day. There are few grandiose illusions of bringing the world back from the brink or of radical personal reinvention on the level of The Road Warrior’s Lord Humungous. Instead, the beautifully bleak honesty of the 28…Later films lies in the reality that this is the world now, and the true challenge is how much of yourself you can preserve even as day-to-day life strips away another part of your personality. Even if you’re not yet afflicted by the Rage virus, how long can you stave off more insidious moral infections?
14-year-old Alfie Williams expertly bears this complex emotional burden, holding his own against seasoned genre veterans like Taylor-Johnson, Comer, and Fiennes. Spike’s soulful eyes, steeling with resolve throughout the film, reflect an innocence that thrives in this deeply disturbing world simply because he lacks a frame of reference for life being any other way. His fellow cast members are equally committed and get their gnarly moments to shine. Still, without revealing spoilers, they simply don’t receive the same platform as Williams to showcase an effective range for their characters. This confined approach to character is something both Boyle and Garland know well, seen in films like the patchwork narrative of Boyle’s Slumdog Millionaire and Garland’s sprawling ensemble cast in this year’s Warfare. However, while it can be refreshing to see these impressive modern talents strut their stuff in a pulse-pounding apocalypse thriller, it’s equally frustrating when their characters are kept at such an emotional distance.
Comer, in particular, feels underutilized, as her character’s illness causes Isla to function more like a prop for Spike than as a character in her own right, although Isla’s moments of lucidity make for Comer’s most arresting sequences. Despite his limited screen time, Fiennes is wonderfully bonkers as Dr. Kelson, an iodine-saturated medical madman who is far more sane than the Holy Islanders who maintain their judgmental distance. He not only provides some answers or closure for Spike and Isla but also imparts a sense of validation and absolution regarding their experiences–that even while adapting to the ravages of this world, one can still acknowledge that they shouldn’t have to endure such horrors in the first place. Edvin Ryding also deserves recognition as NATO Soldier Erik, who provides much-needed humor during Spike and Isla’s journey as a stranded outsider, illustrating how much the world has evolved without Britain over nearly three decades.
While fans of Boyle and Garland’s first outing will be more than rewarded by the goopy gore of this long-awaited follow-up, I cannot stress how exciting (and maddening) it is that this film is very much by the Danny Boyle and Alex Garland of today. Though there are sparse, cheeky nods to the films that came before, 28 Years Later is definitely not Star Wars: The Force Awakens–right from its bloody opening involving some very unfortunate kids, 28 Years Later isn’t here to deliver on expectations or, frankly, please a mass theatergoing audience. Amidst the spine-ripping carnage and bloated corpses are writing and directorial choices that range from inspiring to nearly infuriating, but all of which are distinctly ones that creatives like Boyle and Garland would be bold enough to make. Reuniting with DP Anthony Dod Mantle, 28 Years Later immerses audiences in blisteringly creative camerawork, evolving the gritty DV of 28 Days Later into sleek yet still digitally nightmarish iPhone cinematography. The machinations of Lindisfarne are intercut with footage from old Medieval epics and World War I marches, suggesting a fierce isolationist protectionism against the wide-eyed wonders of the unknown world beyond; a red-soaked night vision featuring the indiscernible glowing eyes of humans and Infected alike (Infect-o-Vision?) evokes the surreal terror of Jonathan Glazer’s The Fall; a bonkers bullet-time rig captures the split-second intricacies of a gory-as-hell moment. Some sequences, in particular, are truly stunning, such as cueing Wagner’s Vorspiel as Jamie and Spike flee down a flooded causeway from Infected amidst a galaxy-strewn starscape, evoking Terrence Malick or Lars Von Trier with far more blood and guts. And as much as I lament some characters’ limited presence, the build-up to a climactic sequence involving dazzling fiery will-o-the-wisps not only made me so damn pleased that Danny Boyle is back making films, but also made me mourn his six film-less years since 2019’s Yesterday.
At the same time, however, Boyle and Garland spend only so much time on a tantalizing idea before succumbing to frantic pressure to move forward. For one example, part of the terror of the Infected in 28 Years Later was their Romero-esque combination of familiarity and anonymity–that their rage became their singular defining characteristic, yet still carried enough slight personality to tragically reveal the humans who remain inside. Some recurring Infected, details of which I’ll keep mum, nearly have too much presence–like one particular character in 28 Weeks Later–without providing more detailed interrogation of these elements beyond what convenient antagonism they provide moment-to-moment in what ultimately unfolds as a forest-filled road movie.
At other moments, it feels like 28 Years Later is lucky to have such strong-willed and charismatic performers like Williams and Comer, as they must make up for the film’s frenetic pacing and the subsequent emotional shortfall of the film’s briefer, unresolved elements. The appearances of Erik, Dr. Kelson, and others are intended to suggest a wider world we’ll hopefully explore further as this trilogy continues–but ultimately detract from the standalone nature of the film that Boyle and Garland have expressed a desire to maintain, even as they lay the groundwork for future installments.
I’m confident that this director-writer team has enough creative energy to fuel this trilogy–but at times, it felt like 28 Years Later alternated between having either too many ideas to make particular moments impactful or not enough satisfying ones to sustain a single feature, let alone three. For all its propulsive energy and mostly successful attempts at emotional closure, Boyle and Garland are clear about closing out 28 Years Later as very much a “first film”–a risk that, coupled with the polarizing yet commendable choices throughout the film (up to the final scene), makes me worry if we’ll see this series’ final entry, even with its sequel, Nia DaCosta’s 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple, already in the can from a back-to-back production.
That said, I couldn’t be more thrilled to tentatively get The Bone Temple in January. It took way too long for us to get another Danny Boyle and Alex Garland collaboration, and even though this is a film that’s both the third in a franchise and the start of a trilogy, 28 Years Later remains a terrifyingly original piece of horror in its weakest moments as much as its overwhelmingly stronger ones. It’s laid an effective groundwork that, amid my reservations, desperately deserves to be seen on the big screen to its eagerly awaited conclusion.
28 Years Later hits theaters on June 20th courtesy of Sony and Columbia Pictures.
