Waking up in a hospital bed and discovering the world has been devastated by a Rage virus is an opening scene that’s hard to beat. That set of images from the 2002 film 28 Days Later’s intro passage may make some film fans eager to see this third chapter’s beginning.
With that in mind, you wonder what was going through the head of screenwriter Alex Garland as he contemplated taking this legacy forward and devising its beginning: In Scotland, little Jimmy is shocked when zombies are everywhere and turning his town into chaos. Biting, gnawing and changing humans into rabid, rampaging beasts who chase all in sight. That sequence ends, then there’s a 180-degree turn.
Somewhere, on an isolated island off mainland Scotland, a village of survivors live a life both raucous and fearful. Drinking, dancing and joking around like pagans—but afraid to go outside their fortified gate. What scares them? Someone says what’s on all their minds: “There are strange people on the mainland. That’s why our village is so precious.” The strange people are aggressive zombies infecting all who aren’t. Fiends raging just across a fragile stone causeway that can only be traversed during low tides.
If the world outside is so dangerous, why does the dad Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Nocturnal Animals) take his 12-year-old son Spike (Alfie Williams) into zombie land—with nothing more than bows and a limited supply of arrows? The trip is against the wishes of the boy’s mom (Jodie Comer), who’s already suffering from fits of disabling anxiety. Why is this necessary?
The screenwriter and director Danny Boyle keep their audience guessing. Nothing is predicable in this coming-of-age film, where a kid is pushed into adulthood into being a savior. In the process, what he sees, hears, runs from and into defies all the guesses any audience would make. At some point viewers will stop questioning and let this tale wash over them.
In the meantime, Boyle, aided by cinematographer Anthony Dod, peppers the screen with cryptic images—fuzzy black and white footage displaying years long gone. There are herds of deer running thunderously over hill and dale (with a great assist from telltale CGI effects). There are ghouls sprinting around nude and dirty; a mountain of skulls that reach to the sky; dazzling shots of sea water consuming a footbridge as people run for their lives. Entrancing, well-interspersed visuals set this drama horror film apart from the pack. Think Oppenheimer, but less static.
Boyle does well with action scenes. He also pulls solid performances from his cast, who deftly portray people in constant peril. The director’s efforts get a major assist from the musical score, with its eccentric mix of rock ‘n’ roll songs, especially ‘Lowly’ by the group Young Fathers. There’s a progressive hip hop collective comprised of Alloysious Massaquoi, Kayus Bankole and Graham ‘G’ Hastings. Add editor Jon Harris, special makeup effects artist Sally Alcott and production designers Carson McColl and Gareth Pugh into the mix and it’s no wonder the footage is fun to watch and listen to.
Although this is just a movie, what dad with half a brain takes his 12-year-old out to shoot angry, whacked out and ex-human beings? This is child abuse. When dad says: “We’re going back, you got your kill—that’s what we came for,” it’s so cold and cruel, shocking and dismal. As their relationship changes, the film finds its footing. What was shaky before, in terms of plotting, dissipates and a compelling and spiritual adventure story emerges.
Taylor-Johnson portrays a troubled man’s immoral ways with just the right amount of selfishness. Comer as the mother adds complex layers of mental anguish to her character—especially in a surprisingly humanizing scene when she confronts one of the female beasts. It’s a primal moment. Warfare is set aside and humanity prevails.
That scene is in direct contrast to the snarling mayhem brought on by the alpha zombie Sampson, as played by former MMA fighter Chi Lewis-Parry. His demonic antics are diametrically opposed to the controlled calmness of the shaman-like character Ian Kelson, played by Ralph Fiennes. Kelson is a stoic man who espouses heady beliefs. If the film has a peak, it’s when the philosophical Fiennes explains, like his words come from above, what the Latin phrase ‘Memento mori’ means.
For a kid, Williams paces his dialogue like a pro—never rushing, always emphasizing the right words with his phrasing. The camera likes his face and captures his emotions well. It’s a performance that should bring him more opportunities. It’s so good audiences will attach their hopes to him. He must endure. He must be the one who can make sense of it all.
An alarming but undistinguished beginning is bookended by an awkward ending. One where characters, who aren’t supernatural, do almost supernatural things. There’s no viable reason for their powers. It throws off the reverent scenes that came before it. Like a misguided afterthought. This may make some viewers yearn for the original and near flawless 28 Days Later. Proving years later aren’t necessarily years better.
There is classy, arty, horror; good enough for genre fans; advanced enough for grownups; more than enough.
