It’s been over two decades since 28 Days Later jolted the zombie genre awake — yes, yes, they’re technically “infected”, but let’s not split undead hairs. Now Danny Boyle and Alex Garland are back, steering the rage virus saga into stranger, bolder territory. 28 Years Later is a curious beast: part coming-of-age tale, part dystopian survival epic, part sociopolitical fable. It’s often gripping, occasionally frustrating, and unmistakably the work of artists aiming for something more than zombie mayhem.

We’re dropped into a new era — or perhaps several at once. The film opens in an isolated island community that feels more medieval than post-apocalyptic — think archery lessons and mead-hall dinners. The focus is on Spike, a boy on the edge of adolescence, and his gruff father Jamie. Their story of survival and tradition gradually gives way to a second arc involving Spike’s ailing mother and a desperate journey to the mainland in search of help. It’s sweeping and emotional, but the tones don’t always click. It’s a little like two films stitched together.

Still, there’s ambition here — especially in how the infected have evolved into something more unpredictable. Some are faster, meaner, and disturbingly naked. Others, dubbed “Slow-Lows,” crawl grotesquely through the muck, slurping up worms. It’s grotesque in the best way. A standout addition: a hulking infected named Samson, hinting at a deeper, more unnerving intelligence behind the chaos. The lore expansion is somewhat messy, but undeniably intriguing.

Anchoring it all is young Alfie Williams, a standout as Spike. He carries the film with a sincerity and weight well beyond his years, making him a compelling new emotional centre for the franchise. Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Jodie Comer also deliver strong, affecting turns, each tapping into the film’s broader themes of survival and emotional inheritance. And then there’s Ralph Fiennes, who arrives in the third act with a character who is as compelling as he is strange. The sequence involving Fiennes, Spike, and a key parent figure takes a surprisingly emotional turn — one that’s likely to catch viewers off guard. It’s touching and thematically ambitious, but it unfolds so quickly, and with such tonal whiplash, that it doesn’t entirely feel earned. Still, it’s a bold swing — and one of the film’s more memorable gambles.

Visually, this is a Danny Boyle film through and through. He shoots much of it on iPhones (yes, really), albeit with plenty of professional rigging and post-production polish. There are freeze frames, wild cuts, and stylistic flourishes that don’t always work — but when they do, they heighten the tension and sense of unease. And while the sociopolitical themes — British isolationism, nationalism, even some Brexit allegory — are worn a bit too obviously on the film’s sleeve (complete with blunt archive footage), you can’t fault Boyle and Garland for trying to inject meaning into the madness.

And then there’s the franchise angle. As the first chapter in a planned trilogy, the film leans into its setup role — and it feels like it. While some threads do reach a sense of closure, it’s hard to escape the “part one” energy. The final moment lands with a tonal thud: unexpected, oddly silly, and at odds with what came before. Still, credit where it’s due — it’s not the safe choice, and that at least keeps things interesting.

So where does that leave 28 Years Later? It’s a mixed bag — messy in parts, bold in others — but rarely dull. Boyle and Garland are clearly building toward something larger, and while this opening chapter stumbles, it sparks enough curiosity to stay invested. Not everything lands, and some choices will likely divide viewers, but there’s enough ambition, craft, and intrigue here to make me want to see where it goes next.