is a reporter focusing on film, TV, and pop culture. Before The Verge, he wrote about comic books, labor, race, and more at io9 and Gizmodo for almost five years.
While it wasn’t the first film to feature fast-moving ghouls, there is no denying how much of an impact 28 Days Later had on modern zombie movies. It was a gripping and nauseating wonder, whose action felt uniquely visceral thanks, in part, to director Danny Boyle’s inspired use of a digital video camera. And there was a gut-wrenching sense of hopelessness baked into writer Alex Garland’s script that made 28 Days Later feel far more grounded than most of the zombie films that inspired it.
Boyle and Garland stepped back from the franchise as it continued with a graphic novel and director Juan Carlos Fresnadillo’s 28 Weeks Later in 2007, but they are back together again for 28 Years Later. Though it’s set in the same world and calls back to the original, the new film hits very differently because of how much more overrun pop culture is with zombie-themed horror. You can feel Boyle and Garland trying not to echo other big pieces of zombie IP as they weave a new tale about how the world has changed almost three decades after the outbreak of a deadly virus. And in a couple of the movie’s pivotal moments, the filmmakers manage to avoid being too derivative.
Many of this story’s smaller beats feel overly familiar, though — so much so that it almost seems intentional. That wouldn’t be a huge knock against 28 Years Later if it could conjure the same kind of pulse-quickening scares that made the first film such an instant classic. But the most terrifying thing about the franchise’s latest chapter is how oddly conservative and, at times, nationalistic its story winds up becoming.
Though 28 Years Later opens with an arresting reminder of how people had no idea how to defend themselves against those infected with the rage virus in the outbreak’s early days, it revolves around a community that has learned what it takes to survive. Like everyone else holed up on a tiny island in northern England, Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) knows how dangerous the infected are and how easily their virus is spread. He also understands that, were it not for the island’s unique geography — it connects to the mainland with a causeway that vanishes with the tides — his life of relative comfort wouldn’t be possible.
Jamie and his sickly wife Isla (Jodie Comer) work hard to impress upon their son Spike (Alfie Williams) how important it is to adhere to their community’s rules. People can leave the island to collect wood or hunt for whatever food they can find. But they do so knowing that no one will come to save them if they can’t make it back to the island on their own.
Everyone also knows that, while Great Britain is still quarantined, the rage virus has been all but eradicated everywhere else in the world. And because other countries have essentially left the British to fend for themselves, there’s a current of resentment (particularly toward the French) coursing through Jamie’s community.
One of the first things that jumps out about 28 Years Later is its overwhelmingly white cast. Some of that can be attributed to the idea that these are all people who just happened to already live on the island when the virus first got out. But Boyle also makes a point of emphasizing how capital B British all of the film’s characters are, with closeups of photos of Queen Elizabeth II and moments where people remind each other that it’s time for tea. The film frequently cuts to archival black-and-white footage of British soldiers marching during World War I and scenes from Laurence Olivier’s Henry V in a way that makes British identity feel like it’s meant to be understood as a crucial part of the story. This is also true of the way 28 Years Later prominently features a recording of “Boots,” Rudyard Kipling’s famous poem about a British soldier’s participation in the Second Boer War. But all of that imagery becomes charged with a very pointed, Brexit-y energy when 28 Years Later juxtaposes it with shots of the writhing, naked infected who have become the mainland’s dominant population.
The racial homogeneity of Jamie’s community is that last thing on anyone’s mind as he prepares Spike to go on his first trip to the mainland — an experience that’s supposed to help them bond and show the boy what it’s like to kill an infected. Isla’s terrified at the idea of her son leaving, but it excites Jamie, who almost seems to enjoy his forays into danger. Spike, too, is thrilled to finally get a chance to see parts of the world that he’s never had access to. But it’s not long before they encounter the infected and are forced to spend the night hiding rather than returning home.
Columbia Pictures
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