What makes 28 Weeks Later so amazing is how it takes the time to establish atmosphere, exploring the survivors, their surroundings, and their new way of life. It’s up to the ever-diminishing group of survivors to find a way out of the forbidden zone before they’re annihilated by either the new infected or the trigger-happy military. The infected once again run rampant through the city streets so the panicked armed forces do the only thing they know: Blow the shit out of everything in sight. No sooner do they settle into their new digs than a sudden outbreak of the virus finds its way back into the populace. Survivors are screened through rigorous medical tests and herded into military “ safe zones” in the heart of London, among them family man Don (Robert Carlyle) and his two children. All the infected have starved to death, and authorities have begun repopulating the cities. The story picks up twenty-eight weeks (duh!) after the initial outbreak of the rage virus. Much like Dawn of the Dead or Aliens, this is the very model of what a sequel should be: a film that expands on the universe of the first without rehashing it. Ready for another shocker? 28 Weeks Later is a bloodier, scarier, and arguably better film than the original.
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The film’s anti-climax didn’t exactly cry out for a sequel, but you can thank the movie gods that we got one anyway. It was far from perfect with a plot that rehashed George Romero’s Dead series (complete with third act Rhodes and Bub clones), but it was still a major achievement in the realm of indie horror.
The original 28 Days Later was a stylish and intelligent film that gave a welcome focus on characters while re-inventing the whole zombie movie aesthetic.
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