28 Years Later (2025)

I’ll be honest—when I heard Danny Boyle and Alex Garland were finally making another film in the 28 Days Later universe, nearly two decades after the last one, I was genuinely excited but wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Would they play it safe with familiar zombie mayhem or try something completely different? Well, they absolutely exceeded all my expectations in ways I never could’ve imagined, delivering something that’s both a worthy successor and an entirely fresh take on this world.

28 Years Later follows Spike (Alfie Williams), a twelve-year-old living on what’s basically a fortified island with his dad, Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), and mum, Isla (Jodie Comer), who’s slowly dying from some mysterious illness. When the time comes for Spike’s rite of passage—travelling with his father to the mainland for his first zombie kill—everything goes sideways in ways that’ll challenge everything you think you know about survival and family. The infected have evolved, the survivors have adapted, and this coming-of-age journey becomes something far more complex than anyone anticipated.

Here’s the thing that threw me off—this isn’t really a zombie film. Not in the way you’d expect, anyway. Boyle’s turned it into something closer to a dark fairy tale, complete with moral dilemmas that’ll keep you up at night. The opening scene has kids watching Teletubbies before chaos erupts, which should tell you everything about how this film approaches its material. It’s weird, it’s unexpected, and somehow it works.

What really got me was how beautiful this film looks. Anthony Dod Mantle shot most of it on iPhones—yes, iPhones—and somehow managed to make post-apocalyptic Britain look absolutely stunning. There are moments where you forget you’re watching a horror film because the countryside looks so lush and inviting. Then someone gets their face ripped off, and you remember where you are. It’s this constant push and pull that keeps you engaged.

Alfie Williams is a revelation as Spike. The kid’s never been in a major film before, and here he is carrying scenes opposite seasoned actors like it’s nothing. He’s got this quality where he can be vulnerable and tough in the same breath, which is exactly what this role needed. His dad, played by Taylor-Johnson, feels a bit undercooked by comparison—not the actor’s fault, mind you, the script just doesn’t give him enough to work with.

Jodie Comer doesn’t get nearly enough screen time, but she makes every minute count. Her character’s illness hangs over the entire film like a cloud, and Comer plays it with just the right amount of dignity and desperation. You can feel how much this family loves each other, even when they’re not sharing scenes.

Ralph Fiennes, though? He’s having an absolute ball as an eccentric doctor who’s somehow maintained his sense of humour after nearly three decades of apocalypse. Watching him deliver exposition that would sound ridiculous in anyone else’s mouth whilst keeping a straight face is masterful. There’s a scene where he’s explaining the virus’s evolution, and he delivers it like he’s discussing the weather. Brilliant stuff.

The infected themselves have become something… different. Not just mindless rage monsters anymore, but something more complex. There’s one encounter with a pregnant infected woman that’s simultaneously terrifying and heartbreaking. Boyle’s suggesting these creatures might be developing beyond pure aggression, which raises all sorts of uncomfortable questions about what we consider “human.”

Now, the film’s not perfect. The middle section drags a bit—there’s a whole subplot that feels like it belongs in a different movie entirely. Boyle sets up these big themes about religion and military intervention, then sort of… forgets about them? It’s frustrating because you can see the potential for something even more profound lurking beneath the surface.

The soundtrack by Young Fathers is all over the place, and I mean that both positively and negatively. Sometimes their experimental approach creates some incredible moments of emotional resonance. Other times, you’re wondering what they were thinking. It’s bold, I’ll give them that, but bold doesn’t always mean effective.

The production design deserves credit for creating a world that feels lived-in rather than constructed. The island community looks like people have actually been surviving there for years, not like a film set dressed to look post-apocalyptic. When the action moves to the mainland, those overgrown ruins feel genuinely eerie rather than artificially spooky.

Then there’s the ending, which introduces a cult called the “Jimmies” that’s clearly modelled after Jimmy Savile. It’s a bold choice that completely shifts the film’s tone, and I’m still processing it. Part of me admires the audacity, but another part wonders if it fits with everything that came before. Your guess is as good as mine on that one.

What struck me most about 28 Years Later is how little it cares about being a traditional zombie film. Boyle’s more interested in exploring how people maintain their humanity in impossible circumstances, and what it means to grow up when the world’s already ended. Some viewers are going to hate this approach—if you’re expecting wall-to-wall zombie action, you’ll be disappointed. But if you’re open to something that uses horror trappings to explore deeper themes, you’re in for a treat.

The film’s shot with a handheld intimacy that puts you right there with the characters. No glossy Hollywood sheen here—everything feels immediate and urgent, even in the quieter moments. There’s something refreshing about a big-budget film that’s willing to feel this raw and unpolished.

Despite its flaws—and there are definitely some pacing issues and underdeveloped plot threads—28 Years Later succeeds in ways I didn’t expect. It’s both a worthy continuation of the franchise and something entirely its own. The upcoming sequel, 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple, has a lot to live up to.

Bottom line: If you appreciate horror that prioritises character and theme over cheap thrills, this movie is essential viewing. It’s not perfect, but it’s ambitious in ways that most genre films wouldn’t dare attempt. Fair warning though—don’t expect traditional zombie mayhem. This is something altogether more complex and more interesting than that. Just prepare yourself for a film that’ll have you discussing it long after the credits roll, whether you loved it or not.