10:30 am, 1:00, 4:00, 6:30, 9:00 11:05 am, 12:10, 1:40, 2:50, 4:20, 5:25, 7:05, 8:15, 9:40 11:40 am, 12:40, 2:10, 3:10, 4:40, 5:40, 7:10, 8:10, 9:40, 10:40 11:35 am, 2:10, 5:00, 7:30, 10:30 10:35 am, 1:25, 4:35, 7:50, 10:25 11:00 am, 2:00, 4:50, 7:50, 10:20 Zombies on the run - again. Grade: C- Rated: R Call it Attack of the Hand-held Cameras. We're talking 28 Weeks Later, a whirling/swirling zombie movie that seems more interested in rattling nervous systems than in developing a real plot.
The main contention here is that chaos is terrifying - and there's plenty of it. If you want an idea about what it feels like to watch 28 Weeks Later, which follows Danny Boyle's well-received 28 Days Later, you might want to sit in front of a flashing strobe for an hour, crank the sound system and pour on the metal. 28 Weeks Later has been infected by the same rage virus that afflicts many of its characters.
An hour and a half of high-voltage bombardment, 28 Weeks Later doesn't really match the novelty of its predecessor. Basically, the movie's new director - Juan Carlos Fresnadillo - turns up the volume, which already was pretty high. I wasn't an especially big fan of the first movie, but this one tends to create an even bigger blur with many of the scenes so darkly lit, you may not always be sure what's happening.
Fresnadillo (Intacto) races through a plot in which all humans are fair game for the rage virus that turns them into zombies, which, in turn, means they want to chomp their fellow citizens to pieces. And, yes, they're very sloppy eaters who all could benefit from some tidying up: Maybe blood bibs would help. The movie begins six months after the original.
A small group of survivors - including a character played by Robert Carlyle - are hiding from the zombies in a secluded farm house. This rural seclusion doesn't last long because the zombies stage a full-scale assault. Carlyle escapes, after leaving his wife (Catherine McCormack) behind.
He'll have to explain this craven move to his children later; they soon turn up in London, and so does he. Seems they've been away on a trip, and missed the zombification of England - a result of the spreading virus, of course. Fresnadillo serves up as many eerie shots of vacated London streets as Boyle, and he has an eye for strange urbanscapes.
But he indiscriminately piles on the mayhem. An example: The movie's gross-out high point arrives when a helicopter pilot aims his chopper at zombies, and blood and flesh begin to splatter. The movie plays on current fears about the possibility of ever exerting control over a situation - that and a widespread desire for security.
A section of London has been cordoned off by NATO forces. Survivors live in this protected zone where they're guarded by soldiers who believe the worst may be behind them. The script ups the ante when a U.
S. general (Idris Elba) orders his troops to fire on everyone. Zombies are loose.
(What, you thought the threat actually was over?) In cramped urban quarters, it's impossible for rooftop snipers to distinguish the zombies from the rest of the population. Condition Code Red calls for complete annihilation.
It falls to an Army sergeant (Jeremy Renner) to try to rescue a small group of people, including a doctor and Carlyle's character's children (Imogen Poots and Mackintosh Muggleton) from the dual zombie and military threat. Fresnadillo tries for a bit of surprise: Characters who normally might survive such horror shows frequently are chomped or burned to death. And some of the movie's sequences may put you in mind of Alfonso Cuaron's Children of Men, but this movie doesn't have Cuaron's wit, cynicism and deeply disturbing sense about the future.
Mostly, 28 Weeks Later comes off as an often-incoherent helping of angst that evokes contemporary issues. It probably will connect with the folks who got all shook up by the first installment. If this one does well, look for more - weeks followed by months followed by years until we reach 28 Decades Later.
But even detractors will have to marvel at one thing: These zombie-like creatures are in awfully good shape. Instead of lumbering through graveyards, they race through the streets of London, screaming at the top of their recently dead lungs and lusting for blood.
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