28 Years Later (2025) Review

In 2002, Danny Boyle’s ‘28 Days Later’ stormed into cinemas like a blood-soaked bolt of lightning, electrifying a genre that had begun to shuffle aimlessly through a graveyard of clichés. It didn’t just bring zombies back- it made them run. Fast. Ferocious. Terrifying. Suddenly, the apocalypse had a pulse again. Five years later, Juan Carlos Fresnadillo’s ‘28 Weeks Later’ picked up the baton, and, although a little more breathless and a little less graceful, it still managed to keep the infection alive without entirely dropping the ball.

Two decades on, the franchise rises again with ‘28 Years Later.’ With Boyle once again at the helm, the film picks up in a United Kingdom where the Rage Virus, long thought to have burned itself out, erupts back into brutal life. The story centres on Spike, a young boy living in the relative safety of Holy Island, off the coast of Northumberland- one of the last outposts untouched by the infection. Circumstances demand that he travel to the mainland with his mother, where he discovers that the infected aren’t the only things to fear.

Engaging, visceral and tense, the film more than lives up to the legacy of the original. Alex Garland’s narrative grips from the outset, weaving a story feeling both expansive and deeply personal. While it may not deliver nonstop action or relentless chase sequences, it’s a powerful film nevertheless. The world-building is rich and immersive, painting a UK that’s both eerily familiar and terrifyingly altered, while the characters- flawed and believable- anchor the chaos in something real. It’s a film that not only reignites the infection but recaptures the pulse-pounding immediacy that made the franchise so impactful in the first place.

Thematically, the film taps into familiar territory but with fresh urgency. At its core, it’s a story about family- the fierce, messy bonds that drive people to risk everything. Spike’s relationship with his mother Isla provides the film’s emotional backbone, grounding the horror in something painfully human. Grief also looms large, both on a personal and societal scale: this is a world haunted by its own history, where the scars of the original outbreak never truly healed.

Further, and without ever feeling heavy-handed, ‘28 Years Later’ ripples with quiet political undercurrents. In a post-Brexit Britain still grappling with the consequences of division and isolation, the film’s focus on borders, quarantines and the illusion of safety feels sharply relevant. Holy Island’s precarious safety speaks to a country trying to wall itself off from a world it can’t fully control, while the return of the Rage Virus becomes a grim reminder that no border is truly impenetrable.

In addition, the film’s mood is charged with a contemporary resonance, tapping into the collective anxiety born from the Covid-19 pandemic. This undercurrent of real-world fear intensifies the claustrophobic tension and heightens the stakes, making the Rage Virus outbreak feel not only terrifyingly plausible but painfully urgent. It’s a stark reminder of humanity’s fragility and the thin line between order and chaos.

Visually, the film is as striking as its narrative. Anthony Dod Mantle’s cinematography crackles with raw energy, blending the immediacy of handheld footage with moments of stark, unsettling beauty. Reportedly shot on iPhones, the film has a jagged, almost documentary-like texture, heightening the sense of chaos and panic. It’s crisp, kinetic and unafraid to get messy, with a muted, desaturated colour palette contrasting chillingly against sudden bursts of blood red. The vast, windswept British countryside is used to great effect- its open spaces amplifying the isolation and vulnerability of the survivors, turning nature itself into both refuge and threat.

The production design further immerses viewers in a world that feels palpably lived-in, from abandoned towns to makeshift shelters, every detail grounding the story in harsh reality. Complementing this is an evocative, eclectic score from Young Fathers that pulses beneath the tension, shifting seamlessly between haunting melodies and adrenaline-fueled beats. The makeup and practical effects are equally impressive, delivering gruesome realism that never slips into gore for its own sake, but always serves the story’s relentless urgency.

Moreover, Jon Harris’s editing is taut and purposeful, maintaining a rhythm that keeps the tension consistently high without ever feeling hurried. Quick cuts during frantic sequences contrast with longer, more contemplative moments, allowing both chaos and character to breathe. This dynamic rhythm keeps one on edge, perfectly balancing bursts of visceral horror with emotional depth. Moreover, the action sequences- though sparse in comparison to other films of the genre- are gory, nail-biting masterpieces of choreography.

In addition, all in the cast perform admirably. Alfie Williams does strong work as Spike, whose portrayal of youthful vulnerability and growing resilience feels authentic. Jodie Comer is typically excellent as Isla, imbuing the part with emotional depth, while Aaron Taylor-Johnson also impresses, adding intensity and complexity to his role as Spike’s father Jamie, enriching the film’s tense dynamic. Further, Edvin Ryding does fine work as a cocky soldier, and the always-reliable Ralph Fiennes brings a dash of gravitas to proceedings, delivering a nuanced, subtle performance.

Ultimately, Danny Boyle’s ‘28 Years Later’ is a powerful revival of a franchise that helped redefine modern horror. It honours the legacy of its predecessors while injecting fresh energy and contemporary relevance. With its unflinching portrayal of human fragility amidst chaos, compelling characters and striking visual storytelling, the film stands as both a gripping thriller and a timely reflection on a world still reckoning with fear and uncertainty. In short: it’s frighteningly good.