It has now been 23 years since the release of Danny Boyle and Alex Garland's seminal work, 28 Days Later, and 18 years since its less beloved follow-up, 28 Weeks Later, was released in theaters. During that time the once cult fanbase of the original film has turned into outright adoration and cemented the film series within the horror pantheon as a masterwork of the genre, sitting right up there with horror classics like George Romero's Dawn of the Dead and Stanley Kubrick's The Shining. 28 Days Later has gone on to inspire the zombie subgenre immensely since its release and is debatably one of the most influential films of the 21st century. So it stands to reason that a sequel would eventually come out, the only real question is: would it be as soulless and rotten as the infected it portrays?

So I'll get it out of the way up front: I enjoyed this movie. It's an excellent and layered film that builds upon the themes of the first movie, while also feeling entirely modern in its own right. It is also interestingly enough, sits among a trend of mainstream big-budget movies that have come out this year that have all had intensely political themes at their center. Without taking too much time away from the review, it's refreshing to see genre fiction have such a firm position on prescient issues rather than a general hand wave and a gesture towards deeper themes.

The film centers on Alfie Williams' Spike and his ever-growing relationship with his parents as he exits adolescence in a post-apocalyptic, infected-ridden Britain that's been blocked off from the rest of the world. While the film's trailers would have you believe that the central relationship of the film would be between Spike and that of Aaron Taylor-Johnson's Jamie, it's Spike's mother, Isla, portrayed by the fantastic Jodie Comer, that is placed firmly as the core of the film.

It's a good decision as the film turns away from being a predictable coming of age story with Spike in the first half of the movie into something more sad and well...soulful. Isla is suffering from an unknown disease that is affecting her cognition immensely, making it so Spike is forced to care for his mother in the way that she is meant to care for him. It's deeply distressing to see Spike be thrust into this role, especially at such a tender age, and it adds to the feeling of danger in the world as you throw your hands up in despair and disbelief as he makes decisions you very much disagree with. I imagine a lot of internet-pilled reviewers and film fans will be very annoyed with this movie, as characters often don't make "logical" choices but instead ones rooted in emotion. I would never say that Spike in this film makes a decision that feels unrealistic or untrue to who he is as a character; instead, I would say that his humanity is on full display. While being at risk of being too personal here, I've seen firsthand the decisions family members will make when dealing with a member of the family suffering from a serious illness. As much as we want to believe we are rational beings, we are not, and Spike and Isla's story in this is meaningful because of the acknowledgment of that.

Now let's talk about filmmaking real quick. One of my biggest problems with modern filmmaking is how the language of film itself is something that is being perpetually lost over the years. We often rely too much on exposition through dialogue or characters explaining things to the audience rather than conveying it through the imagery on screen. Blocking, cinematography, color, music, etc, are all being undervalued as we analyze a script's worth more than what we're seeing on the screen itself. A good script is important, and this film does have a good script, but what's arguably more important is how you are utilizing the rest of the tools cinema affords you, rather than just words on the page. Danny Boyle and cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle, as the kids say, understood the assignment because (forgive me for this) goddamn, is this film beautiful, kinetic, and utterly captivating to watch. Everything from the shot composition to the colors to the editing is pitch-perfect for this film, emphasizing the raw adrenaline you're going to be feeling watching some of these chase scenes and the beauty of a world reclaimed by nature. Characters themselves don't need to say much for you to understand the relationships between them. Whether that's the physical closeness of Spike and Isla or the distance on screen between Spike and Jamie in their scenes together, film is an audio-visual medium, and they understood that. It is easily the most beautiful film I've seen this year, as its creativity sometimes just overflows from the movie and straight into your soul. The "bullet time" infected kills are also just spectacular to witness and feel, as the whiplash of the moment disorients you in the same way the characters are probably feeling.

The cast of the film is also fantastic, each delivering their lines with the requisite amount of pain and sorrow. This is a world where something is always taken from you, and that's reflected in the people we meet along the way. While everyone is great in the film, and the appropriate amount of flowers need to be given to Jodie Comer and Alfie Williams for carrying the movie on their backs, as the film would not work without their believable and loving relationship grounding the work, the two performances that stood out the most to me were that of Aaron Taylor Johnson as Jamie and Ralph Fiennes as Dr. Kelson. Both of them give layered performances that add immense depth to their characters. These characters in another actor's (writer's and director's) could easily be one-dimensional and antagonistic. The distant father and the mad scientist are well-worn tropes that are often there to add conflict to a story and not much else, not so much the case here. Jamie is a distant father, but the film portrays him almost kindly. He's not abusive, not mean to Spike, and is very forgiving of his mistakes. There is a warm, fatherly love that pours out from Jamie towards his son, even if he is unsure of the specifics of their relationship and where they stand. Johnson gives Jamie this feeling of being very genuine and father-like, despite the archetype the character represents. Meanwhile, Fiennes' Dr. Kelson is also a highlight for the exact same reasons. Kelson could easily have been a villain figure in this movie, as he is set up at the beginning to be this mysterious and slightly hostile figure. One who collects and burns bodies for an unknown reason, but when we meet him, he also radiates nothing but kindness. He is without a doubt a broken man, but that doesn't make him a vile one. He creates a temple to remember the dead and their lives (and lives by the motto of "Memento Amoris", remember love or remember life). The bone temple seemed to be something scary and otherworldly in the trailers, but when we get to it, it's quite beautiful. It's as grim as anything in this universe is, but it portrays something deeply human. Our need to remember, and our predilection to contextualize and grow from pain. 

This movie represents a very difficult problem for a critic and for me regarding this blog. As I love this movie as is already apparent from the lengths to which I've talked about its themes and merits, there is a problem of expectation. The film got glowing reviews from critics, and everyone I've talked to has loved it, but one cursory glance at the online reception to the film tells a different story. Lots of complaints about its out-of-left-field cliffhanger ending (which is shocking and funny), and it not being more focused on the infected themselves are extremely prevalent. A complaint that I can't really fault fans too much for, as the trailers made the movie out to be a much more generic zombie picture. This all being said, I think this movie is far better than the movie people wanted going into it, and if you meet it on its level, it's a fantastic exploration of what it means to be human in a time of strife and conflict....something maybe more relatable than ever for the audiences of today.