When Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later appeared in 2002, it was celebrated as a frightening, gore-filled, innovative new take on what were becoming familiar zombie tropes. I disagreed, and gave it two stars. I’ve not seen it since. The sequel, 28 Weeks Later, appeared in 2007, and I liked it better, awarding it three stars. Now the third one has arrived, with a fourth on the way next year. Danny Boyle is back at the helm again (after just producing the second one) and he seems determined to mix things up and try different things with this entry. I wish I could report that his efforts were worthwhile.
Danny Boyle’s tale begins back when the Rage virus first enveloped Britain, as a young boy named Jimmy barely escapes with his life. Flash forward to the present, in which an island of survivors is located just off the British coast, connected by a walkway that submerges with the tides. Jamie (Aaron-Taylor Johnson) accompanies his 12-year old son Spike (Alfie Williams) on his first mainland trip, to hunt and kill one of the infected who still roam isolated Great Britain. Their hunt is scary but successful, emboldening the boy to bring his sick mother (Jodie Comer) to the mainland in search of a doctor whose fire is always burning some miles away. That trek changes their lives completely.
Sorry, but it’s hard to write about this film without giving away its sentient points. Instead of being a “zombies run wild” struggle for survival, this film wants to study the ways the survivors live with the terror that lies so close. To explore humanity in a forest full of inhumanity is intriguing, yet this premise does not dive very deep. Spike’s method of bringing his mother out of their enclave is seditious and his arrogance in the face of horrifying death is appalling. When the two finally meet the doctor (Ralph Fiennes) the situation goes from dire to bizarre and remains there for a long while. And then at the end, Jimmy reappears, and I didn’t even know it was him (thanks, IMDb for straightening that out for me). This story is a bit bonkers, perhaps because it is British; but perhaps not.
It is also quite repellent. That has become a Danny Boyle trademark of sorts, one which definitely turns me away. Characters having to deal with grime and excrement populate his stories all too often; here we are witness to a Rage victim giving birth, all sorts of horrifying death and a doctor whose life work seems to be cleansing the dead of their flesh and stacking their skulls in a tower of tribute, all of which is revealed in graphic detail. Morticians may be interested in his methodology but I don’t feel the need to see it. The story seems to wallow in its own muck and I’m not sure what the point of it all is. ☆ ☆. 30 November 2025.