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Zombie films are generally bleaker than other horror films. Some have speculated that they are ultimately about the inevitability of death, which is certainly reflected in the manner in which most of them end. 28 Weeks Later chooses to add to this inevitability the fact that it can strike suddenly, and without warning. In this film, death sprints.
In 28 Days Later, Danny Boyle's 2002 film, animal rights activists unwittingly release the "Rage" virus from a British laboratory into the general population. The film follows a few scattered survivors and their attempts to alternatingly avoid and kill "the infected," who attack and consume everything living with stunning ferocity and singlemindedness.
As 28 Weeks Later opens, the infection has apparently stabilized. An American-led NATO force has setup a "safe zone" in the city, and most of the infected have starved to death. Britons are slowly admitted back to their country after a rigorous screening process. It goes without saying that something manages to breach this security, the specifics of which I will leave to the viewer to discover.
Technically, the film is impressive. Camera angles successfully invoke a sense of claustrophobia, the music is mournful and droning (though a little too prominent), the sound is superb, and all of the performances are believable. However, director Juan Carlos Fresnadillo's propensity for the infamous "shaky cam" manuever invokes more confusion than excitement.
The story is passable for the first 30 minutes, and the picture it paints is chilling and believable. But when faced with another outbreak, the reaction of the U.S. military is utterly laughable. To be sure, one of the things that makes the Rage virus so terrifying is how difficult it is to contain. Nevertheless, any military force would know this, and the idea that there'd be any kind of rebuilding without a multi-tiered containment system just doesn't past any test of realism.
This failure of planning requires that U.S. soldiers and commanders make a number of excruciating moral choices, especially in situations where it is difficult (and, sometimes, impossible) to tell the innocent from the infected. There are some hazy political messages here, but Fresnadillo and his co-writers (Enrique Lopez Lavigne, Rowan Joffe, and Jesus Olmo) wisely avoid anything overt.
The buildup of tension is often fantastic, but the film offers little in the way of meaningful payoff. The ending is not definitive -- though open-endings are par for the course in this genre -- and the fate of multiple characters is left completely ambiguous, with little to no hint as to what may have taken place.
28 Weeks Later doesn't end, it stops. And it stops in such a way that a continuation of the story is quite likely. Despite this shortcoming, one can't help but look forward to the next installment, if only because it will presumably spend more time on the outside world's response to the epidemic; perhaps with an actual denouement this time.
In 28 Days Later, Danny Boyle's 2002 film, animal rights activists unwittingly release the "Rage" virus from a British laboratory into the general population. The film follows a few scattered survivors and their attempts to alternatingly avoid and kill "the infected," who attack and consume everything living with stunning ferocity and singlemindedness.
As 28 Weeks Later opens, the infection has apparently stabilized. An American-led NATO force has setup a "safe zone" in the city, and most of the infected have starved to death. Britons are slowly admitted back to their country after a rigorous screening process. It goes without saying that something manages to breach this security, the specifics of which I will leave to the viewer to discover.
Technically, the film is impressive. Camera angles successfully invoke a sense of claustrophobia, the music is mournful and droning (though a little too prominent), the sound is superb, and all of the performances are believable. However, director Juan Carlos Fresnadillo's propensity for the infamous "shaky cam" manuever invokes more confusion than excitement.
The story is passable for the first 30 minutes, and the picture it paints is chilling and believable. But when faced with another outbreak, the reaction of the U.S. military is utterly laughable. To be sure, one of the things that makes the Rage virus so terrifying is how difficult it is to contain. Nevertheless, any military force would know this, and the idea that there'd be any kind of rebuilding without a multi-tiered containment system just doesn't past any test of realism.
This failure of planning requires that U.S. soldiers and commanders make a number of excruciating moral choices, especially in situations where it is difficult (and, sometimes, impossible) to tell the innocent from the infected. There are some hazy political messages here, but Fresnadillo and his co-writers (Enrique Lopez Lavigne, Rowan Joffe, and Jesus Olmo) wisely avoid anything overt.
The buildup of tension is often fantastic, but the film offers little in the way of meaningful payoff. The ending is not definitive -- though open-endings are par for the course in this genre -- and the fate of multiple characters is left completely ambiguous, with little to no hint as to what may have taken place.
28 Weeks Later doesn't end, it stops. And it stops in such a way that a continuation of the story is quite likely. Despite this shortcoming, one can't help but look forward to the next installment, if only because it will presumably spend more time on the outside world's response to the epidemic; perhaps with an actual denouement this time.