Review: 28 Years Later

Danny Boyle and Alex Garland reunite in 28 Years Later, a long‑awaited return to the beloved world they created in their 2002 digital cult hit. Nearly three decades after the original Rage virus outbreak, the film places us among a survivors’ colony on Holy Island, where society teeters between folk‑medieval ritual and post‑pandemic survivalism. When dying Isla’s (Jodie Comer) only hope lies in a mainland doctor, her husband Jamie (Aaron Taylor‑Johnson) and their son Spike (Alfie Williams) venture across the tide‑cut causeway into a Britain reclaimed by nature and horror.

Spike — played with a remarkable, precocious emotional clarity by Williams — is the film’s anchor. Williams, an impressive find, gives the film genuine emotional weight. Aaron Taylor‑Johnson’s Jamie is physically imposing and protective — but his accent slips and his character feels somewhat underwritten, more a guide for Spike’s journey than a part of its soul.

Otherworldly landscapes are beautifully captured; Northumberland, Fountains Abbey, and Kielder Forest serve as imposingly beautiful backdrops in their emptiness. Reuniting with cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle, who proved master of early digital in the first instalment, Boyle continues with a preference for innovation. The film is shot extensively on iPhone 15 Pro Max using multi‑camera rigs and drones, delivering wide‑angle, fluid, frames and bullet time action sequences in turn, heightening unease and unpredictability.

Stealing the show in his iodine body paint is Ralph Fiennes as Dr Kelson. Forebodingly introduced through snatches of his creation of the infamous bone temple, he becomes the film’s magnetic cipher — part guru, part scientist, part poetic madman. Stealing every scene he appears in, he crafts an unsettling, powerful presence that suggests a post‑pandemic Brando in Apocalypse Now. Even in a supporting role, he elevates the material significantly and keeps us hungering for more Fiennes action in the next instalment.

The first half of the film crackles with energy: frenetic editing, pulsing gore, new infected types like the “Alphas” and “Slow‑Lows,” and violent set‑pieces that recapture the original’s horror pulse. Sound design punctuates each brutal attack with animalistic shrieks and metallic cacophonies. But as the second half unfolds, the pacing loosens. The film pivots toward symbolic encounters and internal conflict, exploring themes of isolationism, pandemic trauma and frontline folk myth. At times this tonal shift risks dullness, and the editing—especially when it jumps abruptly—feels overly quick, even jarring, causing some middle stretches to lag.

While there’s much to admire — the landscape, direction, performances — the core story doesn’t always land with the emotional clarity needed. The mix of allegory and horror sometimes dilutes both. Nonetheless, the ambition is welcome, as Boyle and Garland push beyond mere spectacle into a darker, more philosophical space.

The writing occasionally leans towards the symbolic over the character‑driven, and some CGI effects (the herd of deer comes to mind) feel undercooked. The score, composed by Young Fathers, blends industrial noise with emotive motifs — but sometimes overstates the film’s intended gravitas.

28 Years Later is a bold, visually striking experiment that offers moments of horror brilliance and standout performances — especially from Fiennes and Williams — and stunning cinematography. But its heart is sometimes obscured by pace issues, tonal ambition that overshoots, and a story that struggles to grip through its shifting identity. With the sequel film, The Bone Temple, already on the way for January 2026 (I believe 28 weeks later!), there is more to look forward to. In a sentence I never thought I'd write, bring on Jack O'Connell and his gang of Jimmy Savilles.