Thursday, June 07, 2007

28 Weeks Later

28 weeks after the beginning of 28 days later (which would make it 224 days after the first infection, but that just isn’t as catchy enough a title) all the zombies- ehr, infected- have starved and died out. A repopulation effort begins, spearheaded by the US military, in a cordoned-off area of London. Of course, it goes to hit and the infection starts up again and you get hordes of infected running around acting all spooky and feral and eating non-infected repatriates and soldiers alike, and a small group of people band up to survive both them and the US military, who are trying to contain the spread of the infection.
Extremely visceral and surprisingly intelligent, I have to admit I liked this movie much better than I liked the first part (which I liked a great deal). It goes out in all sort of random, wonderfully unexpected ways; the characters, while stereotypical, have unexpected reactions which make them feel very well rounded out and involving; it’s got flat out great action scenes which don’t work against the horror and suspense, and it’s the rare kind of horror movie that actually works for its scares. Oh, it sneaks in some biting political commentary, and the gore is pretty magnificent.
And yes, most of the action scenes are muddied up with trendy, overly jumpy editing. And you could say the three standout scenes are a bit derivative, (the best scene, and first runner up for Best. Use. Of. Helicopter. Ever., was used in a throwaway line in the book World War Z, and the other two are a bit too close to Creep and The Descent for comfort), and that the script has a few holes here and there. (Nothing major, though) But it’s still a thrill to see a movie that not only uses something a bit more elaborate than the cheap shocks and gross-outs most horror movies these days manage, but isn’t afraid to evoke grander things- be it as large as parallels with a certain current middle eastern conflict, or as small and intimate as the way guilt makes us desire to violently put out an accusing stare- even after we’ve been undeservedly forgiven.