28 Years Later ★★★★

Released: 19 June 2025

Director: Danny Boyle

Starring: Alfie Williams, Jodie Comer, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Ralph Fiennes

I still remember watching 28 Days Later back in 2001, wide-eyed, mouth agape, completely unprepared for the chaos Danny Boyle unleashed on screen. Then came 28 Weeks Later, raising the stakes with its chilling opening sequence and a whole new level of tension. Now, nearly three decades after the original, 28 Years Later storms onto our screens.

28 years after the original outbreak, the rage virus has mutated — and the infection zone has grown far beyond what anyone ever imagined. Britain, once isolated, is now fractured across survivor territories, military lockdowns, and rogue factions trying to play god. When whispers of a resurgence spark a desperate mission into the heart of a newly overrun quarantine zone, a group of survivors must confront the terrifying possibility that the virus was never dormant… just waiting. Old ghosts return. New horrors rise. And the rules of survival? Thrown out the window.

This is no longer just about escape — it’s about endurance. And trust me, no one is safe.

Directed by the legendary Danny Boyle, and written once again by Alex Garland, the original dream team is back — and they’re not here to play it safe. With a gripping story that refuses to hold your hand, and bold creative direction, 28 Years Later doesn’t just revive the rage — it redefines what a modern horror sequel can be.

The camera work, from Oscar-winner Anthony Dod Mantle, is nothing short of revolutionary. His boots-on-the-ground cinematography plants you right in the middle of the chaos. Whether you’re bolting through back alleys or huddled in dim safe houses with trembling survivors, the lens never lets up. It’s visceral, raw, and sweat-inducingly immersive.

And then there’s the gore — oh yes, the film absolutely goes there. You want blood? You’ll get a river. But none of it feels exploitative — every scene of carnage is punctuated with meaning, driven by fear and desperation. Boyle balances character and carnage so masterfully you forget to breathe.

It is soaked — no, drenched — in dread. From the howling wind across infected wastelands to the eerie silence of a once-busy village, every moment makes your skin prickle. And credit to the art direction, production design, and prosthetic teams — the attention to decayed detail and the nightmare fuel-level infected designs are some of the best I’ve seen in the genre.

But what really ties it all together is the score, delivered by the brilliant and unexpected powerhouse that is Young Fathers. Their sound is edgy, hypnotic, and aggressive — flipping from pulsing percussive heartbeats to ambient melancholy in a heartbeat. The music is the dread, the urgency, the heartbeat of the infected. Every chase is supercharged by their sonic energy, making scenes hit with even more force. It’s one of the boldest musical choices in horror in years — and it works.

Now to the cast, led by an ensemble that delivers performances packed with soul, scars, and survival instinct. Aaron Taylor-Johnson is magnetic as Jamie, carrying grit and emotional weight. Letitia Wright is raw and resilient as a survivor who’s seen too much. And Jodie Comer steps in with fire and fragility in equal measure, grounding the human side of this apocalypse. A surprise but welcome return from Cillian Murphy as an executive producer also cements a poetic connection to the original film’s heart.

And then there’s THE scene — the zombie chase that will be etched in my mind forever. I mean wow! I thought The Walking Dead had fast walkers, but these rage-infected would smoke Usain Bolt on his best day. One chase sequence in particular had the whole audience holding its breath. It’s chaotic, perfectly edited by Jon Harris, and choreographed to perfection.

Now let me take you out of the cinema and into my own post-film horror: on the way home, my bus broke down in the middle of the road. No warning, just sudden darkness and confusion. The passengers were evacuated, standing eerily in the night like something was about to leap from the shadows. And then I saw it — plastered across the side of the bus was a giant 28 Years Later billboard. I nearly screamed. The timing was so mad, so perfectly bizarre, I had to laugh and snap a photo. Life was imitating art, and for one brief moment, I thought the rage virus had followed me home.

28 Years Later is a blood-slicked, heart-pounding, nerve-shredding triumph. Danny Boyle proves he’s still got the bite, Alex Garland’s script cuts deep, and with incredible turns from its cast, plus that bold Young Fathers score, this is horror at full sprint.

It honours the legacy of its predecessors while pushing the genre forward in terrifying new directions. This isn’t just another sequel — it’s an evolution. The rage is back. And it’s faster, louder, and more soul-piercing than ever.