12 hours ago
Film of the Week: '28 Years Later' - Bold, brilliant and Brexity
When we left the 28 (pick your time span) Later franchise in 2007, the protocol-breaching actions of two misguided siblings led to the carpetbombing of London's no-longer-safe zone.
Kids... What can you do?
28 Weeks Later, Juan Carlos Fresnadillo's surprisingly effective follow up to director Danny Boyle and screenwriter Alex Garland's 2002 zombie genre revitalizing horror experience, ended with a devilish final stinger that had audiences saying 'Et, merde' at the sight of the Rage Virus-infected emerging from a Paris Métro.
18 years later (in the real world) and 28 years later (in the Rage-infested world), Boyle and Garland are back, and they're not keen to simply rest on their laurels.
We quickly learn that the terrifying pandemic has been beaten back from mainland Europe (the French presumably shrugged off the infestation and dusted off the guillotines) and that Rage is contained to Blighty.
They really can't catch a break... And in many ways, that's the point.
While the infected are still out and about, there exists a safe space – an island within an island. Its name is Lindisfarne, aka: Holy Island, and it's in this isolationist community, only connected to the UK mainland via a causeway crossable at low tide, where we meet 12-year-old Spike (newcomer Alfie Williams). His scavenger father Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) is keen to make a man out of him and so decides to embark on a coming-of-age ritual of sorts: take him inland for the first time in search of his first kill.
As Spike's bedbound and mysteriously sick mother Isla (Jodie Comer) foretells in a fit of expletives, it's a really dumb idea...
28 Years Later doesn't look or feel like 28 Days Later. Or 28 Weeks Later, for that matter. So those wanting more of the same may end up disappointed.
Ditching the lo-fi, punk rawness of the first brush with sprinting nightmare fuel and the equally lean-and-mean feel of the second, 28 Years Later is crisper and more expensive-looking. While that may frustrate some audiences, what's clear is that Boyle and Garland didn't come back to simply cash in and play it safe.
It couldn't be any other way. 28 Days Later breathed new life into a horror mainstay by having the sprinting Rage-infected replacing traditional reanimated corpses. More than two decades later, zombies have invaded the screens and become ubiquitous – to the point of exhaustion. From the big screen offerings of the Rec franchise, Shaun of the Dead, Zombieland and Planet Terror (to mention only the high points) to the zeitgeist-capturing small screen hits The Walking Dead and The Last Of Us, civilisation-threatening outbreaks featuring ravenous walkers, crawlers and biters have become mainstream.
The only way was forward. And a lot has happened since 2007's 28 Weeks Later – namely Brexit and a worldwide pandemic. Both of these resonate in 28 Years Later, especially the self-inflicted isolationist wound. The nationalist and seclusionist subtext becomes text: Saint George's Cross flying above the community; the banner reading 'Fail we may but go we must'; the sea patrol keeping the infection contained to the UK; the 'us' and 'them'-ness of looking backwards to a past of the England that once was... It all makes for a simple but effective Brexit analogy.
It's not particularly subtle; but then again, no allegory-infused zombie movie ever was. And neither was Brexit.
The obviousness of certain thematical strands is countered by some far more surprising choices, like the teasing-and-ditching of The Wicker Man motifs and the Summerisle setting in favour of exploring the evolution of the infected.
Of course, the introduction of various kinds of berserkers ('slow-lows' or the terrifying 'Alphas' with Predator penchants for spine-yanking) will lead to inescapable comparisons with The Last Of Us. But the script does enough to explore the potential of its ideas without toppling into déjà vu – particularly when one initially grating yet radical element is introduced...
Then there are unpredictably profound moments in the second half of the film, culminating in the Memento Mori / Memento Amori dichotomy, which is brilliantly delivered by the show's last act MVP Dr. Kelson, played to perfection by Ralph Fiennes. His scenes with Spike have an emotional resonance that elevates the material and make it hard to fathom how Alfie Williams is so accomplished for a first-time actor.
We'll hopefully be seeing both Boy Meets World and the iodine-covered Colonel Kurtz again soon, as 28 Years Later was filmed back-to-back with the first sequel in a planned new trilogy, titled 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple, which is slated to hit theaters in January 2026. Let's pray Young Fathers return too, as their terrific soundtrack is not worth ignoring.
From the Teletubbies opening to a heroically bizarre finale which scoffers will likely liken to The Village, via a three-act structure that makes a young hero's odyssey evolve from a father-son adventure to a mother-son rescue mission to a young father figure spreading his wings, 28 Years Later's strange verve is exhilarating.
While there are some pacing issues, as well as surplus to requirement CGI moments involving swarms of birds and deer, Boyle and Garland have truly outdone themselves. Without skimping on the edge-of-your-seat tension and gruesome viscera that made the first two instalments so pant-browningly effective, their belated sequel is a radical revival that eschews the obvious at every turn.
It may not satisfy everyone, but give us daring over safe any day / week / year of the Rage pandemic.
28 Years Later is out in cinemas now.
"Wake up, wake up" is the chorus of the Felix Flavour music that Jeny BSG choreographed for the Dance4Refugees campaign on Instagram and at the Bozar arts venue in Brussels.
It's also the call to action for people everywhere to speak out and show their support for refugees.
"Everyone needs to wake up. It's time to talk about it, it's time to help, it's time to react. We can't stay silent, we have to speak out for the oppressed and that's what I'm doing," she told Euronews.
Jenybsg (@jenybsg)'in paylaştığı bir gönderi
The social media campaign challenges people to post their versions of the choreography on Instagram and donate funds. It is aimed primarily at young people, who Jeny works with at her dance school and when she travels abroad.
'I try to reach out to the younger generation because for me they are the change, they can make a difference in this world. Dance was, for me, a great way to bring attention and change the narrative, to celebrate the strength, potential and resilience of refugees,' Jeny said.
The dancer and choreographer was born in Belgium, where her family sought refuge from the decades-long conflict in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). A background that left its mark on the artist and led her to activism in collaboration with the UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR).
"My family fled violence in the 1990s. My elder brothers spent time in a refugee camp. My mother and my father have experienced displacement, violence, fear, struggle", she recalls.
More than 6.9 million people are internally displaced across the DRC, with an additional one million refugees and asylum-seekers in neighbouring countries, according to the UNHCR.
This 'legacy' brought additional self-imposed responsibilities for Jeny, who set herself the task of 'not failing' and being a voice for the Congolese diaspora: 'Today I am living proof that the origin of refugees does not define the limits of refugees, but rather their strengths.'
Jeny uses her platform to promote marginalized voices, having founded the AfroHouseBelgium, a Brussels-based dance school. She's also been working with the UNHCR since last year to amplify the stories of those forced to flee.
"Dance is universal and the refugee cause today is also universal. We know that refugees come from all around the world: Ukraine, Afghanistan, Syria, DRC and other countries. But they are not only statistics or numbers. Their lives matter, and they are like us", she says.
The UN says there are currently 123 million forcibly displaced people worldwide, twice more than a decade ago. Almost 37 million of them are refugees. The organisation warns that recent drastic cuts in humanitarian aid funding are putting their lives at risk.
Funding for the agency is now roughly at the same level as a decade ago, said Filippo Grandi, UN High Commissioner for Refugees, at the launch of the annual Global Trends Report on 12 June.
'We are living in a time of intense volatility in international relations, with modern warfare creating a fragile, harrowing landscape marked by acute human suffering", Grandi highlighted.
The report found that, contrary to widespread perceptions in wealthier regions, 67 per cent of refugees stay in neighbouring countries, with low and middle-income countries hosting 73 per cent of the world's refugees.
