When Danny Boyle‘s first entry into the zombie horror genre hit theaters, it was unlike anything audiences had seen before on multiple fronts. Firstly, the portrayal of the zombie. Before 28 Days Later (2002), zombies had a rather consistent portrayal due in large part to Pittsburgh legend George A. Romero, whose integral work Night of the Living Dead (1968) solidified not just the genre, but its benchmarks. What followed was a number of zombie flicks in the 70’s and 80’s who largely kept to a set of “rules” established by Romero in his film and its later sequels Dawn of the Dead and Day of the Dead. The undead were rising from the graves, they feasted on human flesh, and were a slow, but impeding force of menace and inevitable death encroaching on what life was still cornered and hiding away. Some other films pinpointed other elements that became synonymous with the zombie, such as The Return of the Living Dead (1985) making them hunger specifically for brains. But in general the ruleset for the fictional creature’s existence had been set and hardly deviated from: undead, walks slow, eats brains/flesh, and their bites turn you into one of them. Also, a headshot or any manner of destroying the brain is the only real way to kill them.
With Danny Boyle and screenwriter Alex Garland dipping their toes into the bloody genre, they flipped the script. Despite going back to the roots of the genre with Romero’s films for inspiration, the take was entirely new and fresh. The zombies were no longer a slow moving herd you weave through and dodge with enough careful maneuvering. Now, they sprinted at you full speed. Survival was still a marathon, but the pace goes from 0 to 60 now. Also, they’re not technically undead. Rather, they are humans who have been infected by a rage virus, turning the zombie infestation from an invasion from hell into a health epidemic, and the virus is transmitted not by a bite but by fluids. This is almost more in line with something like the xenomorph in Alien (1979), where its blood is just as, if not more dangerous, than its fangs or tail. Despite not having acid for blood, these infected are just that: infected, sick humans. Manic, violent, and uncontrollable, but still technically alive.
It’s important to recall this distinction not only for what new ground Boyle and Garland tread over two decades ago, but for where they build upon it in this new iteration of the world. Both the 28 Days world and our own have seen sharp changes, forward and backward, since 2002. Even though his story is relegated to the UK, where it seems the rage virus has been contained, it has since become a global allegory for our own experienced isolation from the COVID pandemic and subsequent lockdown at its peak. Simultaneously, it is also an unmistakable comment on Brexit and its isolating of class, culture, and a warped sense of national pride. Horror is no stranger to being a reflection to the times we’re living in, but sometimes the shlock and gore centric flicks don’t have nearly as much to say (which is absolutely ok and arguably important). But movies are inherently political even if not intentionally made to be, such was the case with Romero’s first Dead film. The film was a distinct critique of America’s culture art the time, in the wake of the Cold War, politics, racism, and a society notably dividing amongst itself between class, color, and generations.
Unfortunately, these all ring very familiar in our current state. Despite decades of progress, in spite of continued adversity and hurdles in the name of civil rights, people across the world have endured some of the most unsettling periods in modern history. And it is on the heels of this 28 Years Later arrives with a cracked mirror to hold up to us for its 115 minute runtime. But even a broken mirror can still reflect back something beautiful, if we look hard enough.
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One can see a lot of beauty in many of the frames of the picture, even when what’s being presented is often violent, dark, or simply old. A sequence of characters running from an Alpha (an infected that has evolved and become a de-facto pack leader for other infected) on a causeway connecting the mainland of infected to their outpost island is breathtaking not just in pacing but presentation as well. A sky full of stars illuminating the water barely low enough to walk across, but high enough to slow them down while in pursuit, crashes with each hurried lunge; the elements and nature of the world reminding us of its beauty while in the face of its equally impactful terror. There’s also a revival in spirit of the technical aspect which made 28 Days Later so novel. Shot heavily on a Canon XL 1 camera, the original film was an early purveyor of digital video filmmaking, and its harsh, handheld style was a perfect mode of delivery for the visceral and up close nature of the story. It also became a necessity of convenience, pulling off many shots of normally crowded areas in London to be deserted, with an easy to carry camcorder making shooting on the fly for short periods possible. With this latest entry, Danny Boyle and team have translated the approach in the modern age, where digital is now the standard, utilizing iPhones for a majority of the film’s setups, including a circular rig mounting up to twenty iPhone cameras to create a bullet time effect for certain zombie sequences. This setup also was elected in part for the freedom of editing options come post-production.
It’s something Boyle clearly has an affinity for. Every film ultimately comes together in the edit, where it truly takes shape as an editor, director, and more make sense of the shots at their disposal. And much of Boyle’s work is very particular in his edit. T2 Trainspotting (2017), a feature length epilogue bookending the exploits of heroin addicted Scots in 1996’s Trainspotting, was full of memories, football tapes, music videos, and more are all projected on walls, moving cars, and the subjects of the picture; it was like a living photo book, where there’s no separation between the physical taxing of endless days and the enduring sentiment of tenderness and heartache. There’s an identity in a film’s edit. 28 Years finds its own in a sort of twisted national pride, showcasing its DNA of the UK and “God Save the Queen” energy while also amplifying its history, both old and new, as something terrifying. Instead of a photo album, it’s more like a collage, where newspaper headlines, Laurence Olivier’s Henry V, and the naked perspective (both figuratively and literally) are not shielding truth like a man behind the curtain, but connecting the dots with bloody red threads where nothing can be hidden. Like the emptiness of a canvas or cork board filling the space between the tearings of clippings and images, or like the long piece of land connecting the survivors to the infected mainland, it is the visual metaphor of a gravestone dash between our open and close.
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Humanity cannot be truly isolated. There lies within the desire to meet or even tempt death on our own terms. Masters of our fate, whether in ignorant defiance and out of spite or determination in the abandonment of fear, even in the face of annihilation, it is something we ultimately wish to arrive with, not at. Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) and his twelve-year-old son Spike (Alfie Williams) enter the mainland to scavenge and hunt, a sort of coming-of-age ritual for Spike, perhaps a few years shy of a proper age to be venturing out. Things get hairy in some run-ins with the infected, as Jamie must take up the brunt of shooting when Alfie’s nerves get the best of him. Their return to the outpost, narrowly surviving with an Alpha on their heels, is celebrated with drinks and cheers. But Alfie doesn’t feel the joy in the moment, as Jamie talks his son up to the community, exaggerating his performance and handling despite his struggles to land a single shot (the bow and arrow being their weapon of choice). Alfie is further encouraged with drinking and later discovers his father cheating on his mother Isla (Jodie Comer), bedridden from an unknown illness, with another, much healthier woman, and disappears into the night. The day was supposed to be a trial and transition into adulthood, becoming a man. But instead, it has been a fracturing and handicapping of his innocence. One could say there’s not much innocence to be had in a life under constant threat of extinction, but it is those moments of lingering adolescence which truly matter, and are all the more tragic when they are snuffed out by the times one inhabits, and its disregard for any hold or pause among the trials endured.
Alfie, on the precipice of it all, chooses to take on the role on his own terms. Hearing tale of a doctor on the mainland, he sneaks out of the outpost with his ailing mother to find him and hopefully cure her illness. It’s not clear the kind of education system being implemented on the island. But a lack of a single doctor hints at either the prioritization for weaponry and training, or utter disregard for science. Perhaps both. And again, the parallels to our own world are noted, without having to explicitly spell them out. Aflie goes through a much more dangerous trek on the mainland than before, coming directly in contact with a swarm of infected and an Alpha without the aid of his dad to ensure more safe passage. Despite Isla’s condition, she is not simply a burden, showing she will protect her son just as well as she smashes the head of a bloated, crawling infected. But Alfie is determined in every step of the way for her, stopping to rest when she needs it and comforting her in her moments of delusion and her mind slipping into memories. Even if he doesn’t fully understand what’s going on with her, he never makes her feel ashamed for it, nor does she ever cut short Alfie’s capabilities to keep her safe, even if it were coming from a place of love. A clear difference from Jamie who could not speak of Alfie honestly while keeping the party going, despite clearly caring for him as well and wanting him to succeed.
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There is a Nature vs Nuture aspect to Alfie’s journey, along with the picture as a whole. The aspects of his life and upbringing are at odds with what he’s come to face on the mainland. And yet it is due to these coming to a head they in fact become in tandem, running parallel with each other. After being rescued by Swedish marine Erik (Edvin Ryding) separated from his troop, they have a run-in with a pregnant infected woman. It is clear she is in labor, taking a swipe or two at them but also rendered defenseless from what the body is ultimately having happen here and now. Again, life gives no time to pause. And without a second thought, Isla offers her hands, as the infected grips them for support as she gives birth to an otherwise healthy and seemingly uninfected baby. It’s not long after this the Alpha comes running, once quick trigger finger Erik kills the infected woman upon another lunge at them, looking to pull some heads and spines out, and perhaps retrieve his baby too. Though if it’s uninfected, would he still care for it? Can an infected care for a child? Or does the extent of the infected’s still natural inclinations end at procreation?
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We don’t get to see, as they thankfully stumble upon Dr. Kelson (Ralph Fiennes), who sedates the Alpha, but chooses not to kill it (even later with a second close call attack by it). We soon see his madness, often rumored by those on the island who once knew him, is in fact a combination of the preservation of life and the dignity of death. The Bone Temple, constructed from countless bodies, most assumingely the skulls of infected or ones killed by the infected. And yet, there is no discernible difference to be made from one skull to the next. Whether a rage monster or a human living amongst them, they all look the same in the grave. This, along with witnessing infected still able to create life, speaks much to the idea of othering, and that perhaps just like deadly zombies in a field of gorgeous yellow flowers, there is beauty to be found in death, and it is not separate from life, but connected, like the other side of your hand, and life (and that dash) is merely a turning of the wrist, like extending a hand as you invite one for a dance, or ask for food from a parent. It is a gesture of creation, and a commitment to memorialize it.
Much like Dr. Kelson advises Alfie “Memento mori“, so too does he impart upon him “Memento amoris“, or “remember love”. Interesting that in Latin, a “dead language”, both death and love are nearly the same in spelling when following the word “remember”. Perhaps Dr. Kelson’s advice is the pause for us all in these granite, marble dashes, to breath and take in, before the “Boots” of Rudyard Kipling drown it all out.
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