Review: 28 Years Later – Teletubbies, Zombies and HUGE, floppy dongs! oh my...
Spoiler-Free
Zombies. Coming of age. Themes of family. Secret societies. Teletubbies. Britpop haircuts. Giant wangs.
Yes, this film has all of that, and yet somehow it works. Danny Boyle returns to the rage-ravaged UK with 28 Years Later, the latest chapter in his iconic zombie saga. But rather than opting for explosive spectacle or cheap nostalgia, Boyle offers something far more unsettling: a slow-burning, Law-soaked exploration of legacy, identity, and the monstrous things we inherit.
The story centres on a young boy, Spike (Alfie Williams), as he makes his way to the mainland with his father (played by Aaron Taylor-Johnson), leaving behind the eerie comfort of a strange island settlement. They're off to kill some rage-infected humans in a perfectly normal tradition that signifies one's journey into manhood.
The island, only reachable by land bridge during low tide, seems quaint and safe… If you ask me, it feels too safe and too normal, and something is seriously up. Children wear creepy masks, archery lessons are commonplace, and there's a not-so-subtle undercurrent of something sinister. That horrible "I can't get my finger on it, but something is up" feeling. You can't help but draw comparisons to The Wicker Man or Midsommer. Like, what is everyone hiding?
At its heart, the film explores themes of family and control, and Spike's journey is as much internal as it is external. His mother, played by Jodie Comer, is gravely ill, suffering from dementia or possibly worse, and the only hope lies with a doctor rumoured to be on the mainland, spoken about with the tone of hushed superstition.
The UK has been sealed off from the world since the outbreak, left to rot in its own rage. It's frozen in time, still stuck somewhere in the early 2000s, which is hinted at throughout the film with CD players, VHS tapes, Britpop haircuts, and, yes, Teletubbies (Way scarier than any rage-infected zombie). The world has moved on, leaving the UK to fend for itself. They aren't even sending in care packages of walkers, crisps, cigarettes, and Carlsberg. It's really dark times for everyone involved.
All jokes aside. The film succeeds because it leans into this grime and despair. It doesn't try to be sleek or expensive. Boyle embraces low-budget aesthetics with sharp, resourceful direction; some scenes are shot on iPhones, and it works. The tone echoes 28 Days Later without trying to clone it. It's local, grubby, and it's super tense.
All the music by Young Fathers elevates the whole film. The tracks are edgy and reminiscent of the early 2000s. There is a chilling use of Rudyard Kipling's "Boots" poem that builds atmosphere in unexpected ways. Visually, the film combines handheld realism with occasional Matrix-style shots. Boyle breaks up the linear narrative by splicing these jarring scenes of introspection that pull you up into your seat.
It's not really a spoiler, but the ending sets the stage for a trilogy, with the second film due early next year and a final movie rumoured to bring back Cillian Murphy. And honestly? I'm invested in whatever comes next.
Spoiler Section Begins — Proceed with Caution
If you've seen the trailer, you already know quite a bit. There is a giant bone temple thing, a lone mad doctor smeared in iodine, and zombies that are far more varied than ever before.
The doctor, played brilliantly by Ralph Fiennes, doesn't kill the infected. Instead, he puts them to sleep with blow darts laced with morphine. He's less a zombie slayer and more a strange prophet nudging the story forward. His presence is magnetic, but Spike remains the heart of the film, caught between his mother's gentleness and his father's quiet brutality.
We're already seeing the seeds of bigger themes. Writer Alex Garland has stated that the next film will delve into the concept of evil, exploring how it's created and how it's passed down. You can feel those ideas sprouting here, especially in Aaron Taylor-Johnson's father figure, who radiates a kind of bubbling, generational rage.
The Rage Virus has evolved! We're not just dealing with sprinting rage monsters. We've got new "castes" of infected:
Crawlers are grotesque, bloated zombies that drag themselves along the ground, feeding on worms.
Alphas are giant, muscular rage monsters leading the infected hordes, some of them hilariously and horrifically endowed. Is this a weird nod to primal aggression, perhaps?
One infected even gives birth on screen. That's right! A rage zombie giving birth raises all kinds of questions. Can the infected now breed? Are they evolving? Could some be carriers or even immune? I don't know, so stop asking!
Spike's journey is deeply tied to his mother's illness. After discovering his dad is cheating on her, he takes her to the doctor, hoping for a cure. Instead, he learns she has terminal cancer. What follows is a surprisingly tender sequence: euthanasia, cremation, and then the doctor stripping the flesh from her skull to add to a grotesque yet beautiful monument of the dead. It's macabre, sure, but it's also strangely moving.
There's also a foreign soldier who washes up on the shores, a minor but interesting character who offers a glimpse of life outside the UK's quarantine zone. His time in the story is brief, but the dynamic he brings is fun while it lasts.
The runtime is lean, about 90 minutes, and it flies by. It gives you just enough intrigue to keep thinking after the credits roll, particularly about that island Spike leaves behind. That secret society vibe. The masks, the rituals, and the parties - it all feels off. Too perfect. Too controlled.
However, the real twist comes at the end. Spike is now alone after fleeing the island for the final time. He is exploring the mainland on his own, carving his own path in a rage-infected UK, when he stumbles across a new gang that offers to save him from an oncoming horde. that seems normal, yes? WRONG! Their entire identity is built around none other than the late Jimmy Savile.
Yeah... That Jimmy Savile.
It's a moment that's already divided audiences. Some are horrified. Some are fascinated. Some think it's genius. After hearing interviews with Boyle and Alex Garland, it seems the goal is to explore evil. Not just the zombies or just the societal collapse of the UK, but real evil in a cultural and human sense.
When the outbreak happened, before we knew what Savile had done, he was still a beloved British icon (yeah, I know it hurts to think about that). So the question is: are these worshippers genuinely evil? Or are they just relics of a time that hadn't yet seen the truth? Could this gang be a red herring? Is the real evil still hiding on that seemingly peaceful island?
We'll have to wait for the sequel to find out.
Final Thoughts
I didn't expect to enjoy this film as much as I did. It's not flashy. It's not loud. It's not trying to dazzle with CGI or save the world in a big-budget climax. It stays grounded. Focused. Human. It's a horror story, yes, but also a character story.
It's about family. About grief. About growing up in a broken world. And about what gets passed down. Whether it's love, violence, or the virus itself.
I'm looking forward to part two. And if the rumours are true about Killian Murphy returning for the third film? I'll be there, front row.
Until next time...