wenty-eight years have passed since the Rage Virus first escaped into the population, quickly decimating the British mainland. Outlying areas have been left to fend for themselves, including The Snook, a small island protected from the rampage of infected monstrosities by a lengthy causeway that remains submerged during high tide. Inhabitant Jaime (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) decides to take his son Spike (Alfie Williams) – an initially eager, enthusiastic twelve-year-old – on a fraught, ritualistic journey into the mainland to kill his first afflicted subject. Upon seeing the belligerent and sometimes cunningly intelligent hunters up close, Spike quickly realizes he’s in over his head. But when his ailing mother’s (Jodie Comer) mysterious condition worsens, the young boy determines to brave the terrors that roam the forests on a desperate quest to find answers and aid.

Once again, the introduction begins with a serene setting that suddenly shifts into pandemonium as a gathering of children must contend with their guardians becoming infected and lashing out erratically – and violently. With choppy cuts, jerky cinematographic movements, and filtered imagery, director Danny Boyle’s vision of zombie mayhem takes hold; the tone, the title designs, the locations, the ironic music, and the aggressive twitches of the undead are all familiar, bringing back to life one of the most influential takes on these particular movie monsters. Though the original “28 Days Later” would lend its concepts to countless subsequent zombie flicks, including “The Walking Dead,” those properties have essentially eclipsed the content from Boyle’s first foray, which means that he’ll have to come up with plenty of fresh ideas to stay relevant in an oversaturated market of postapocalyptic flesh-eating humanoids.

The start, however, is a touch shaky; it’s not exactly new to see a rough-around-the-edges, primitive society of scraggly survivors holed up in a walled-off sanctuary. And grizzled leaders forewarning of the dangers beyond as a young child is whisked away for a rite-of-passage adventure in the anarchic wilderness isn’t exactly unprecedented. Yet the amplified background noises and the unsettling recitation of a Kipling poem (also featured in the theatrical trailer) are surely helpful, establishing discomfort and unease early on, which steadily ramp up as the major landmass is surveyed. “Let’s go get your first kill.”

The film doesn’t address the diseased dying off from starvation after so many years have passed (something noted in the previous sequel), but the special makeup effects have undoubtedly gotten goopier and gorier, as if the reanimated have rotted for a remarkable time. The amount of nudity has increased as well, which works rather nicely to complement the distressing nature of unfeeling, spasmodic killers lusting for blood. The sound effects and jump scares are comparably escalated, often ignoring geographical sense and spatial awareness for the sake of jittery moments; it’s a constant assault on the senses. But when it becomes clear that youthful Spike is the primary perspective, it’s disappointing at first, since the film doesn’t shy away from the typical scenarios in which incapable children generate needless risks – as if drama and trauma are heightened just because it should be more terrifying that a child is involved. In this way, it’s almost Spielbergian, as the world on the other side of the raised footpath is explored and navigated through the viewpoint of a young (occasionally stupid) boy; it’s through his eyes that audiences grow acquainted with unknown hazards and obstacles.

Nevertheless, “28 Years Later” doesn’t rely solely on this aspect for its thrills. In fact, it tends to move away from zombie tropes to touch upon themes that could exist in any normal tragedy, investigating the damage of secrets and lies, the notion of a fallen idol, the responsibilities and lessons in tracking and defending, and the many ways that people deal with life and death – including religion, existential dread, paying tribute to or honoring the past, preserving memories, denying or pleading with reality, and coming to terms with loss. It’s quite engaging for what could have been a mere bloodbath of gruesome slaughters and stunt-filled melees (of which this picture boasts plenty). Stylistically, this third part in the series is right in line thanks to its odd camera angles, its observations on background details, its discolored flashes of complementary footage (and a few really bad flashbacks), and its knack for brutality. And it also boasts a few exchanges of exceptional humor and some creative ways to deviate from standard expectations for zombie shocks. But the deeply emotional elements – which work not because of zombie activities but in spite of them – are perhaps the most rewarding surprises in this largely satisfying follow-up to an enduring horror franchise.

– The Massie Twins