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28 Days Later

28 Days Later

Zombie films, despite being popular staples with amateur low-budget (and low-talent) filmmakers, are always a Catch-22 subgenre of horror since George Romero essentially said everything there is to say with his Living Dead films, but occasionally a fresh idea or two pops to the surface. Here, Danny Boyle makes his contagion a man-made virus that doesn’t necessarily kill the victim, but makes him or her so consumed with rage that it must be acted out until the person is put out of their misery. Indeed, the opening moments, while reminiscent of other apocalyptic movies, are quite effective, as Cillian Murphy’s bicycle courier with a head injury wanders around the deserted streets of London before running into some of the “infected”. As he finally meets other survivors, the film is taut and tense, and Naomie Harris as the female he teams with manages to be both sexy and tough. It gets better when they meet a father and daughter (Brenden Gleeson and Megan Burns) who share their instinct for survival. Gleeson is actually the coolest and most well-rounded turn here as the quartet embark in his taxi cab to leave the city for an apparent military outpost. Sadly, the film never recovers after Gleeson’s exit from the story, as the others come to that outpost in a remote mansion. For one thing, the soldiers are portrayed as complete idiots, right down to the apron-wearing effeminate one who cooks all their meals. When it comes out that they and their leader (Christopher Eccleston) care only about bringing women to their compound so that they may rape the shit out of them to bring about children, it truly gets ridiculous, especially since this well-armed and equipped unit are AWARE that the area is merely quarantined, and instead of trying to make a break for civilization, they choose to stay there and try to play sex games with the girls (though the way they laughably hesitate and just stand there and stare at them most of the time makes the viewer wonder what they are waiting for, Christmas perhaps?). Then there is the change in Murphy’s character in the second half: going from being scared and cynical to being a one-man killing machine that would give John Rambo pause, whether it be leaping from the ceiling like Spiderman to ambush the hapless soldiers, to stealthily leading the infected hordes back to the compound to do his dirty work, to basically outsmarting and outfighting the entire trained unit while barely breaking a sweat. Any sense of subtext and wonder goes straight out the window, and the film becomes a walking joke, capped off with a cheap “will he live or won’t he?” climax and a maudlin happy ending that would make Romero shit himself with disgust. In the end, half a good movie that completely loses its way at the midway mark…

5/10

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